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  1. You can blame Invincible for getting me into superhero stuff. So I decided to come up with a few of my own and make them crap their pants. And I'd like to thank the one and only Leaky Panties for making so much fantastic art for this story! Additionally, credit for the costume designs goes to Leaky, as well. Hope you guys enjoy! Sally Hayes had no idea what was going on. Or rather, she had a pretty decent idea, but the adrenaline and terror choked up her senses, and turned a lot of it into a big blur. People, guns, shooting, screaming. She had the pieces, but beyond that was chaos to her at the moment. They hadn’t seen her, yet. She knew that much. Deep breaths, focus. People were attacking the market, she knew that. They were shooting, but Sally couldn’t see any bodies, so it must’ve been warning shots. People were on the ground, but not slumped over, on their knees, with their hands up. She’d seen three gunmen, and they had mean-looking rifles. They wore uniforms, and she guessed that they must’ve belonged to the New World terrorists, the ones all over the news. One of them only had a handgun, but could shoot fire out of his hands; he was a super. And twenty-two year-old Sally Hayes was hiding behind a shelf, trying to choose which one of many impulses to listen to. Currently, it was tied between giving herself up and surrendering; trying to run; or just wetting herself and fainting. Thinking about it, she supposed that fainting and then wetting herself was also on the table. Voices sounded out, almost clear enough for her to make out. She realized it had gotten very quiet. The hostages had been told to shut up, she hoped. There were lights outside, flashing red and blue. Voices from outside, clashing with the ones inside. But they had hostages, the police would be little help. She dared to poke out from her hiding spot again, and saw that one of the terrorists had been sent to scour the building for any more potential hostages. Like her. She hid down low once again, covering her mouth with her hand. Footsteps got close while the voices continued to argue and shout. She heard a whimper, and thought it had come from her own mouth, but it was slightly distant. The footsteps heard it, too. “Come out!” Hissed an angry man’s voice. More whimpers answered him. “Come out!” He commanded, and Sally could hear the sounds of a scuffle. She looked out once again, seeing a violent-looking man grabbing a woman by her arm and trying to drag her out of her space between two aisles. She writhed in his grip, finally slithering her arm out of his hand, and falling onto the floor, landing on her rear. “Looks like we’re about to have our first example, huh?” He growled, retrieving his rifle and pointing it at the woman. She froze, stock still, as a pool of urine enveloped her butt and spread out around her. “There you go, see? Much simpler to be scared and do what you’re told, isn’t it?” But despite her will to fight clearly being broken, he wasn’t done. He turned his gun around, and prepared to smash its stock into her. He could well have still planned to kill her. And at that moment, all of Sally’s careful observation and attempts to think went out the window. Suddenly, she knew only a few things. She was Sally Hayes, a twenty-two year-old woman with dark skin and black hair. She was wearing a nice pink shirt with a brown leather jacket, and some comfortable baggy jeans. She was somewhat athletic, and probably stronger than the average person, but her physicality wasn’t anything too impressive. She worked as a saleswoman and had no combat experience, and yet she was diving forward to tackle an armed terrorist. And she was going to die. She landed on his back, and he stumbled forward, almost toppling. She didn’t quite know where to go from there, so she tried to wrap her arm around his neck, like she’d seen on TV. He didn’t seem to be getting choked out, but he was pissed off. He reached back and struck at her wildly, trying to throw her from his back. She held on with all her might. After a lot of twisting and grappling, he finally managed to jam his elbow into her ribs, knocking her back, and away from him. With the speed and precision of a practiced killer, he turned, readied his weapon, aimed squarely between her eyes, and fired. As he’d gone through these motions, Sally had been holding out her hands, preparing to scream. As he fired, she closed her eyes, feeling a cold, iron-like weight of fear in her stomach. After a few seconds, she wondered why the afterlife felt so normal, only to hear two more gunshots. She finally opened her eyes, and wasn’t certain what to make of what she saw. In front of her, there were little ripples in the air, with bullets floating in the middle of them. They’d been stopped mid-air. She thought it must’ve been the miraculously timely work of a superhero, but the gunner was confused as well. She knew, then, that she had been the one to stop the bullets. The adrenaline returned, expanding her focus. Unfortunately for her, that meant that she finally noticed that the iron-like weight in her stomach had begun filling her panties. Her underwear grew tight as it was pushed and stretched by her mess, then began to sag down, having ample room inside of her baggy jeans. The generous amount of fabric made it so her large soiling wasn’t obvious, but there was something shameful about knowing just how large the hidden accident in her pants was. Despite the humiliation she was sure to feel if she survived, she tried to focus on the mortal danger she was in. Something had begun to click inside of her. She didn’t know how she knew to do it, but she flicked her wrists and the magical wall in front of her launched forward. It slammed into the gunman like a truck, flinging him backwards. Her instincts, continuing to awaken to this new sensation, propelled her forward. Extending one hand, she made a beckoning gesture with the other. The rifle flew to her open hand. That was as far as her power got her, though, leaving her to figure out the next step for herself. She didn’t want to kill anyone, even if they probably had it coming, so she just bashed him over the head with the weapon while he was still recovering from the psychic blast. He went out like a light. Then there were more gunshots, and the aisle between her and the other terrorists was perforated with a dozen bullet holes. Cringing in fear once again, she held out her hands to form a protective barrier. She’d fully voided her bowels the first time, so at least she didn’t ruin her underwear any further. Once again, her instincts had served her well, as about seven bullets that would’ve been her end were embedded in her psychic barrier. Thank you, magical brain, she thought. The onslaught of gunfire must’ve given the forces outside all the motivation they needed to make their move. Silhouettes outside the entrance grew closer, the shouting grew louder. Glass shattered. And then, stone shattered? Peering over the aisle, Sally beheld the imposing form of a superhero, freshly crashed through the roof of the building. Dizzy, a famous hero who’d been saving the day everywhere for a few years, had arrived. Tall, muscular, light skin, and short, golden, windblown hair. Her hero outfit was simple, a forest green bodysuit with some angular, orange designs. The most complex part of her outfit was the vast array of cuts, burns, and damage that Dizzy refused to get patched up. “Oh, they are fucked,” Sally muttered involuntarily. Dizzy was a powerful and renowned hero. It must’ve been a slow day for her to be available to respond to a threat of only three gunmen. The leader, the super who could shoot fire, took his shot. A large burst of fire washed over the superhero. Terrifyingly, her silhouette was still visible within the flame, unflinching and unmoving. When the inferno came to an end, Dizzy was still there, not even lightly charred. “My turn,” she said with a smirk, and faster than an eye-blink, she’d charged forward and delivered a bone-shattering punch to the New World terrorist. He slammed into the wall, and did not move. But the other gunner had not been idle. She held her weapon, a small submachine gun, against the head of a young man. “Back off, hero!” She barked. The good guys had once again been stalled by hostage taking. Only… Sally willed her instincts to tell her something, give her some clue of how she could help. Her mind raced, and finally, she decided to try something. Focusing on the weapon, she held out her hand, palm facing up. Then, in a swift motion, shot her hand upwards. She smiled exuberantly when the gun did as it was told, and rocketed into the air, colliding with the ceiling. Disarmed and in disbelief, the terrorist released her grip on her hostage, and stumbled backwards as Dizzy approached, cracking her knuckles. The gunner’s black pants became host to a sheen of wetness as she piddled herself in fear. Dizzy still taught her a lesson or two. --- Sirens wailed, a helicopter hovered overhead, police and EMTs swarmed the building, apprehending the terrorists and relieving the hostages. Some news crews had arrived, and were interviewing the people involved. Still dazed and in shock, Sally wasn’t quite sure how she’d wound up being filmed and interviewed alongside Dizzy, but there she was. Dizzy had congratulated her for her assistance with the situation, and even called her a hero. The media was eating it up, and wanted footage of the two. Sally, however, didn’t feel like she was worthy to stand beside the likes of the legendary hero, certainly not with loaded pants. Oh dear Lord, I’m on national television and I crapped in my pants, she realized, causing her already awkward and stammering responses to grow even less coherent. Oh, please tell me no one can tell! Can they smell me? “No more questions, guys!” Dizzy called out, to the disappointment of the news crews. She put her hand on Sally’s shoulder, “I think the hero of the day is still kinda shaken, so she should get to a doctor, see if she’s hurt.” “Ah, yeah… ” Sally said. Led inside by the legendary hero, they found their way to a more secluded spot, away from all the noise outside. “Are you hurt? Like, badly?” Dizzy asked, seeming quite sincere. “Um,” Sally inspected herself, patting her own body down (though careful not to pat her butt), “No, I don’t think so.” “Good to hear. You should still get checked out, but I figured you’d like to, y’know, freshen up a bit, first.” It was then that Sally noticed the hero had led her just outside the women’s bathroom. “Oh, uh… I see… ” Dizzy practically read her mind, answering her unspoken question, “Don’t worry, you can’t see it. They just made me stand close to you, and I could, y’know, smell you.” Sally shrunk down, humiliated. “I’m sorry… ” Dizzy shrugged, “Happens to the best of us. It’s happened to tons of heroes, and it’s happened to me. Don’t sweat it.” The proud woman admitted to this without a hint of shame or embarrassment. Sally hardly believed what she’d just heard. She’d always viewed the really famous heroes as just being invincible. To think they’d get so scared that they’d ruin their costumes was wild. “Um, if I can ask you something… ?” “Shoot.” “I just found out I have a power today. What… What do you think of it?” “You did all that with a fresh power?” She sounded genuinely impressed, “Wait, why? Do you want to make something of that power?” “I dunno. I was so scared, but I just moved and… I think I liked it. Being like a hero, that is.” “You weren’t ‘like a hero,’ you were one,” Dizzy said with a smile, “And if you think you have what it takes, I’d be happy to make a pro out of you.” Sally only responded with an excited inhale and wide eyes. “Now go change your pants.” --------------- Five months later… Given the severe need for super-powered individuals in the defence of society, working with Dizzy, even as a trainee, had turned out to be pretty profitable. Sally’s old job had been nowhere near as lucrative, or fun. Her power, some type of telekinesis, was unnaturally strong, and she was a pretty quick study. In only a few weeks, Sally had learned how to handle and wield her power effectively, and had begun joining other heroes on small missions. Mostly simple stuff. Well, “simple” by superhero standards. Most people didn’t consider having guns shoved in their faces to be a simple affair. But Sally’s power made her particularly effective in stopping gunfire and disarming killers; and with the New World growing bolder every day, she was getting plenty of practice in. She’d met lots of big name superheroes, too. From the gravity-defying Flux to the lightning-blasting Thunderhead, Sally had made a few noteworthy acquaintances. For the most part, they seemed impressed with her growing mastery over her power. Although, their most universal critique was over her composure. While she’d managed to avoid having any further accidents, she never quite managed to carry herself like a hero consistently. She wasn’t the comforting, inspiring presence that people like Dizzy were, yet. But nonetheless, she was happy to take on the role of hero, even if it meant that, sometimes, like today, she just sat in the agency building, watching Dizzy face off against a supervillain on a widescreen television. The agency utilized special little drones during missions to record the events from multiple angles, providing higher quality and more versatile viewing than what the news would show the public. And, as she’d learned, frequently something would go wrong on a mission, and it would need to be fully omitted or doctored out of a news broadcast, while the drone footage was not edited at all. The villain had a power that looked like some kind of superspeed, and he’d already gotten the better of two other heroes, elevating his threat class enough that Dizzy was called in. Given that her powers included superspeed along with a variety of other super abilities, the villain was quite simply outmatched. The fight was so fast that Sally could barely even keep up with what was happening, but she was more interested in their surroundings. Flipping between the drones’ views, she finally landed on the other two heroes who had been defeated. Mercifully, they weren’t severely injured. A man who had a power that let him create large wind gusts was unconscious, and his companion, a woman who could teleport short distances, was trying to rouse him. The two had been pretty thoroughly thrashed and… yep. As Sally observed the teleporting female hero, the legs of her dark blue outfit were soaked with pee. Poor thing, she thought. In the scant few moments that she’d looked away, the fight had been settled, and Dizzy stood over the crumpled heap of the supervillain. As expected, she hadn’t even broken a sweat. Sally tried to think of something to say when her teacher returned, and inevitably asked what she’d learned from watching, when the door to the lounge swung open and a suit-wearing woman rushed inside. Andrea, a secretary with the agency, looked around the room in a panic, before settling her gaze on Sally. “Emergency!” She said, “A supervillain is wreaking havoc at Parker University!” “A- a supervillain?!” Sally asked, “I’m not permitted to go against villains yet-” “No time! Lives in danger!” The woman shouted. Despite her orders from Dizzy, Sally obediently bolted upright. Andrea had a frighteningly commanding presence. “Well, what kind of powers do they have?” If she was destined to break the rules, she might as well do her best to live through it. “We aren’t completely certain, but they appear to be able to move the earth around.” Sally nodded dutifully, “I’ll do my best.” An earth-moving power against her telekinesis should be a fairly neutral matchup, with neither side truly able to counter the other, so maybe she did have a chance after all. Donning her hero outfit, a tight, purple and white costume that exposed her legs, she departed the agency. Though strenuous, her power did enable her to fly. It was clunky and inexact, but she could essentially form a bubble around herself and fling it to her destination. While it prevented her cape from fluttering majestically in the breeze, she still thought she looked cool. Zooming through the air, she eventually spotted the university, which turned out to be rather easy as she just had to look for the only place in the city suffering from earthquakes. Her heart raced as she approached, nervousness and fear threatening to make her spill her guts up. She’d never faced off against a supervillain before. The few times one had appeared on one of her missions, Dizzy had made her stay put while she dealt with them. Sally really, really hoped they weren’t as dangerous as her teacher had made them out to be. She would find out soon enough, as she touched down at Parker University. The buildings were shaking, the earth was cracking, and all around people were panicking and trying to run. An area of destruction was moving across the campus, and she could just barely make out a vaguely humanoid shape at its epicenter. Getting as close as she dared, she cleared her throat and shouted in her steeliest voice, “Villain! Surrender now! This is your only chance!” She hoped she sounded intimidating. The living earthquake abated, and the person causing it turned to face her. It was a woman, not wearing any sort of villainous uniform, just a tanktop and a black leather skirt. Her skin was tanned, and her black hair, which hung down to her shoulders, was dyed green about halfway down. She wore sunglasses that hid her eyes completely, but even without seeing them, Sally could tell the villainess was not impressed with her. “Some advice, loser,” The villain began. She stomped her foot, and a line of earthly destruction traced its way from the sole of her shoe to a statue Sally stood next to. The base of the statue evaporated into dust, and it toppled down towards her. Using her power to get a slight boost, she jumped back, narrowly dodging the crumbling debris. She exhaled sharply, eyes wide. “... If you’re gonna pick a fight with someone,” The villain continued, “At least try not to look like you’re about to piss yourself.” Sally swept her arms, generating a wave of force that blew away the statue debris in front of her. While her arms were outstretched to her sides, she swung them forward, catapulting much of the debris at the villain. She clearly hadn’t been expecting the reprisal, and only barely managed to raise a rocky barrier that was shredded to pieces by the barrage, only just durable enough to keep her from being damaged. She panted lightly, and looked up at Sally, now seeming to take her a little more seriously. “Ironic advice,” Sally said smugly, “Since it looks like you’re about to soil yourself.” Heroes were supposed to make puns, right? “All right, freak, you had your chance to run away,” She knelt down low, and drove her fist into the ground. Multiple fractures raced through the disturbed earth, spreading out like cracking glass, but all homing in towards Sally. Her power wouldn’t be anywhere near strong enough to shield her from an attack of literal earthquake magnitude, so she had no choice but to fling herself up into the air. She looked back as she flew upwards, and saw that her old position on the ground had been obliterated, turned to dust, and then swallowed into the depths of the earth. Sally felt a short spurt of urine soak into her briefs. This girl was playing hardball. Sally began to lose altitude, and was rapidly approaching her opponent. As soon as she was pretty sure she was in range to use her power, she threw a wild swing through the air, which translated to an invisible wall of force impacting the villain, and sending her flying. Her landing zone now clear, she touched down almost elegantly, only stumbling a little. Ahead of her, the earth-shifter was getting back onto her feet. Another swipe battered her, then another. As long as Sally kept striking, her enemy wouldn’t have a chance to use her power. Or at least, she’d hoped as much. In the middle of being thrown around by unseen attacks, the villain managed to stomp her foot on the ground once again. There was no clear fault line this time, but there was an unmistakable rumble of something gliding through the ground. Sally couldn’t see it, and could only barely approximate its location by the rumbling. It was slow, and it took ages to reach her, all the while she was trying to divide her focus between the coming attack and her own series of blows. If she let up, then the villain would crush her. Her heart pounded in her ears, wondering when the earthen attack would arrive. She knew that it would be lethal if not handled properly. Her eyes darted, and concentration began to slip. At last, the earth opened up, and a massive stone spike launched forward. It was pointed at her head, and her dodge was so last second that it cut her cheek lightly as it rushed by. She shook and shivered, and her legs gave out. She fell down to her knees, and her bladder emptied itself in a hot gush. Pee saturated the crotch of her costume, then raced down her thighs. Some urine streamed directly to the ground from her pants, noisily creating a large puddle. “Are you finally dead?” The villainess asked, sounding battered and out of breath as she stepped closer to observe her handiwork. “Cause I’d really like to get on with my- Oh! Oh, ha ha ha!” She began laughing as she saw Sally, whose bladder was just about done voiding itself. “Oh my God, you actually did piss your pants!” Sally grit her teeth and glared in response. “I was just making a joke, but wow! I didn’t have to say anything, you are a joke!” She raised her foot to stomp out another attack, “Well don’t worry, dude. By the time they excavate you, no one’s gonna be able to tell how you went out.” As her foot dropped, Sally lunged forward, throwing a perfectly straight punch into the air, aimed at the woman’s midsection. The wind whistled and a tight ball of psychic power impacted her stomach, sending her staggering back. She gasped and gagged, the wind having been driven out of her body. She clutched her stomach in pain, and fell to the ground. Sally looked at her own fist in awe. In all her training, she hadn’t managed a hit like that, yet. She sure wished she knew about it before she wet herself. Speaking of, Sally tried to put all of her focus on the fight, ignoring the wet fabric clinging tightly to her butt and crotch. Her opponent seemed to be fairly incapacitated, but then again, all she had to do was smack the ground with appendage and she’d create a deadly attack. Careful so as not to crush her, Sally lifted her hands, gingerly levitating the villain. “... Fuck you… ” She muttered quietly as she was lifted, “... I win!” Her arm slumped off the side and reached the ground. Before Sally could react, she raked her fingers through the dirt. Five fault lines tore through the earth, speeding towards not Sally, but one of the campus buildings. Once they touched the structure, dirt and glass blasted through the air, it looked as though a missile had struck the building. Sally heard screams. Groaning in frustration, she flung her opponent roughly to the ground while she ran to save whoever was inside. Using her power to boost herself forward, she flew through the new opening that had been carved into the wall. The destruction was more extensive than she feared, as the foundation had been damaged. The structure creaked and moaned, threatening to collapse. Following the sounds of terror and panic, Sally found her way to a room that had been sealed off with debris. With powerful motions, like she was swimming through the air, she telekinetically cleared the rubble, revealing a party of five or so people inside. They stared wide-eyed at the miraculous appearance of a superhero, but they did not move. “Come on! Run! This way!” Sally cried to them, spurring them to action. But as they neared her, the sound of shattering stone and rending metal froze all of them in their tracks. The building was falling. She turned around, and held out her hands to conjure the sturdiest barrier that she could, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. The massive slabs of concrete began to fall, and Sally knew she was going to be crushed, but maybe she could save one or two people. Just like before, with the man and the gun, she knew she was going to die. And just like before, her bodily control slipped. The rear of her costume tented suddenly as her bowels released. With a quiet crackle, more mess spilled out, filling up her now-very-stretched underpants. She could feel the muck covering her backside and she knew the bulge was massive. And with the fabric over her butt being white, it would stain and tint brown, leaving absolutely no question that this superheroine had completely soiled herself. But, just like before, as she closed her eyes and waited for death, nothing came. Daring to take a look. She saw that the crumbling building had been suspended in time and space. Even the little bits of dust had been frozen in mid-air. She’d actually done it. She’d contained the collapse, even if she hadn’t contained the avalanche in her briefs. With it being apparently safe, she ushered the group out of the building, her power fading as the last one made it out. The collapse resumed where it had left off, now free of potential victims. Outside, all of them were panting, and clearly not enjoying the particular odor in the air. “Are all of you okay?” Sally asked, between breaths. “I think so,” One of the people she’d rescued said, “Um, are you?” He asked, looking at her urine-soaked front. Sally was quiet for a moment, trying to keep her tears in. She was absolutely humiliated. “... Yeah.” “Thank you,” Another person intoned, trying to change the subject, “For saving us.” “I’d tell you my superhero name, but… I’d appreciate it more if you all forgot what you saw here today,” Superheroes were supposed to make jokes. Though she still wanted to cry, the slight bit of humor helped make things maybe just a bit less awkward. Besides, she actually hadn’t settled on a superhero name just yet. There was another rumble, and Sally grimaced, remembering that the villain wasn’t defeated yet. “All of you evacuate now! The villain is still active. I’ll handle them,” She didn’t wait for a reply, and she was quite eager to be away from people, so she took off. Still clutching her stomach, the earth-shifter was slowly walking towards a building at the far end of the campus. She wasn’t conjuring a storm of destruction any longer. Whatever she was after must’ve been inside, and the other devastation was just… Sally didn’t know. A show, perhaps. An outlet for frustrations. A message. Villains were crazy like that. Sally landed a short distance behind her, “We’re not done, yet,” She growled. She was trying to seem intimidating, and accordingly was being very careful not to let her backside show to the villainess. The taunting would never end if she saw that Sally had crapped her pants, too. “The fuck… ?” She breathed, still reeling from the blow to her gut, “How are you alive?!” As Sally had come to expect, the woman went for another cheap shot, stomping and sending out an inarticulate pulse throughout the ground. It rattled and cracked, and Sally lost her footing as the earth shook. Aiming as best as she could, she readied another psychic punch. The earth-shifter, meanwhile, readied an attack of her own. They both launched them simultaneously. They would collide mid-air, and the winner’s attack would follow through and hit the opponent. At least, that’s what should have happened. Instead, a green blur fell from the sky like a comet, intercepting both attacks and not even flinching. Dizzy rose from her kneeling position between the two. Fearlessly turning her back to the murderous woman, Dizzy looked at Sally, “Nice work, kid! I’ll take it from here.” Not missing her opportunity to strike while her back was turned, the villain threw a stone spike at Dizzy. It shattered like a clump of sand, and Dizzy didn’t even seem to feel it. The titanically powerful superhero turned around, and smiled. Fault lines raced to her, stones flew. The woman was throwing everything she had at the living legend, but it was to no avail. At best, she’d scratched her outfit a little. After weathering the barrage, the villain’s shoulders slumped. She was beaten, and she could tell. “How? How can you… ? It’s not fair! It isn’t fucking fair!!” Tears welled in the woman’s eyes, like she was about to throw a tantrum. “... My turn,” Dizzy uttered her catchphrase, then rocketed forward at incalculable speed. She stopped just in front of the villain, her fist just inches from her face. Piss sprayed loudly from under her leather skirt, falling to the ground in a strong stream. The stream occasionally clipped the edge of the skirt, and so droplets gathered and fell from its hem. Her bowels audibly emptied as well. The sound was somewhat wet, and matched the mess, as it stained and sagged her skimpy panties. They all sat there in silence, Dizzy being sure to let the villain’s courage completely drain out between her legs. “Give up?” She asked. The woman meekly nodded in reply. ----- “You know,” Dizzy began, as she and Sally were away from all the cameras, “They edit out stuff like you messing yourself.” Sally whirled to look at her, “They do?!” She was still wearing her wet and heavily soiled costume. “Kid, you remember months ago? I told you that this happens to us. We have a bit of an understanding with the media. They’re not supposed to make us look bad.” She poked her head out, glancing at the army of police, firetrucks, ambulances, and news vans and helicopters that had invaded the ruins of the campus in the last several minutes. Thanks to Sally’s timely arrival, there hadn’t been any casualties. “Sooo, if I was recorded during this whole thing, nobody’s gonna know that I had an accident?” “Nope. I mean, y’know, unless somebody just recorded it with like a phone or something, then- ” She looked at Sally’s once-again-distraught face and stopped herself, “But the odds of that are slim to none.” Things got quiet for a second, before Dizzy said, “Fighting Magnitude like that, though. Damn impressive for your first time against a supervillain.” “Magnitude?” “The name HQ came up with for her. Serious power level. For you to take on someone like her, I’m beginning to think I was babying you a bit too much.” “What’s gonna happen to her?” Dizzy shrugged, “Can’t imagine there’s many jails she couldn’t just bust out of. Probably have to set up some special facility for her.” “What was she after? She was gunning for the building over there.” “I asked the same thing. No one knows. The dean’s office is there, but that’s hardly a juicy target for a supervillain. It was probably something personal. Whatever the reason is, they’ll find out in interrogation.” “... Can I go change my pants, now?” Dizzy laughed, “Yeah, sure. I’ll even let you go first.” Sally giggled, then realized what she’d just said, “Wait, what? What do you mean, ‘go first’?” “Look closely,” Dizzy said as she turned her back to her student. It was hard to see if you didn’t know what you were looking for, but there was a flattened mound against her butt. “You… !” “I’ve been out since sunrise fighting the forces of evil. They made me miss the usual bathroom time. I had to go, and I sure wasn’t gonna let the bad guys win just cause of an accident. So, at some point in the day, I just let it happen.” Sally didn’t know what to say. She knew Dizzy was shameless, but this was unprecedented. No wonder she was so experienced and familiar with accidents. “I told you, in this line of work, this kinda thing is beyond your control. Best thing you can do is not let it get to you… And to try and cover it up, but that’s another lesson.”
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  3. These two stories is made by an Ai generator called "Deepstory" but I edited some stuff. Hope you enjoy [SEXUAL WARNING] __________________________________________ Yui wakes up from his sleep and starts to shuffle due to his desperate need for the toilet. He gets up and groggily walks to the bathroom door and and tried to open it but couldn't. "Come on" he begged while grabbing his crotch with one hand "i'm so desperate to pee, i'm going to wet myself" he says, while trying to open the door. "Must be jammed" he grunted and then freezes when he urines starts to leak. Yui blushes profusely, grabs his stained crotch with his other hand to control his uretha. Piss begins to spread across his crotch and down his legs, staining his jeans and forming a puddle underneath him. Yui shivers. He felt so relieved and turned on by it, him looking down at his penis just to see it was erect. He unzips his wet jeans, looking down at his pee soaked member. His pee stained crotch is a mess of the same yellow colored urine as the rest of his jeans. Yui realised he also need to shit, so he zips his pants back up and starts to shit, wanting to know what it feels like. The fecal matter starts to exit his anus and Yui's pants starts to fill up with a nasty fecal. He screams in pleasure. His pants unzip and Yui grabs his pants from behind, as the mixture of fecal matter and urine drips from his pants. Yui stops holding the pants, his stomach is empty, and stares at his boner. He grabs his dick and starts to jerk it frantically. It is also pee stained. Yui begins to moan and moan sexually as he ejaculates. __________________________________________ Yui is stuck in traffic, sitting in his car, in the dark evening. He has to pee urgently. He turns on music to distract his desperation. Even though it turns him on, he doesn't want to make a mess in his car. While driving, he sees a sign that points to a rest stop. He drives in and enters the public bathroom, just to see it was all full. As the restroom becomes less packed, He starts to piss himself a little, making a tennis ball patch on his pants. Yui runs into one of the empty stall and tried to take his belt off. He couldn't hold it anymore and starts to pee in his pants, while grunting. He sighs with relief, taking his pants and briefs off, looking at at the stains. He sniffs the dirty pants and starts masturnating furiously. He wanted to shit himself too, so he puts his back on and stands up, and starts to fart loudly. Suddenly, the lights inside the bathroom flicker on and off, Yui is horrified. "Is someone there? Do they know I'm here, masturbating? Or is it a ghost!?" he mentally asked, trying to stop himself from having another accident just in case someone else knew he was here. It was hopeless though as he starts shitting himself out of fear with loud crackling and grunting sounds. He touches the sagging seat of his pants, unzipped and resumes his furious masturbation, not caring if someone else was in the room anymore, and cumming all over the floor. He opens the door and saw it was just faulty lights. Then a question popped into his brain. How is he gonna get back to the car with anyone seeing his accident. Yui decided to just book it and ran into his car and drove back home. __________________________________________ That's all for now, but I hoped you enjoyed it. Please leave some feedback and please share. I'll definitely make more
  4. So this is a little something I've been quietly working on for a bit, now. With Journey to Arnwick finished, I'll probably have more time to devote to it. I can't say for sure that it's gonna be my next thing, but it's certainly something I enjoy writing, and something I have a lot of ideas for. Oh, and that "hypnosis" tag won't really apply until the second chapter and on, but oh boy will it apply. Hope you enjoy! Chapter 1 - A Desperate Escape There truly is no ideal time to get chased down by the cops, But how did they always manage to turn up when Jenny needed to piss? Speeding down the road, pushing her motorcycle as fast as it would go, she desperately wished the flashing lights and sirens behind her would disappear so she could pull over and relieve herself, but no. The red and blue lights continued to illuminate the forlorn road around her. She was honestly pretty surprised; her bike was fast. The fact that these police cruisers from some broke, no-name town could keep up with her was impressive. “One little arms deal, and they send the whole town after me,” She murmured into her helmet. The road grew rough, creating quite a bumpy ride. As Jenny bounced up and down along with her bike, she cursed each little bump that threatened to make her piss her pants. Ignoring the pressing need of her bladder, she looked around for any detours she could make- anywhere she could try and shake her pursuers. Hope presented itself as a somewhat more narrow road that she turned onto. For a brief but wonderful moment, the headache-inducing red-blue lights of the cruisers vanished, and only simple moonlight illuminated her surroundings. The fleet of cars behind her couldn’t make turns as easily as her lone motorcycle, and the turn put a fair distance between them. Another unexpected turn later, and Jenny felt she had nearly lost her unwanted entourage. Given that her bike was black, and her outfit consisted of a matte black helmet, black leather jacket, and black leather pants, she blended into the nighttime scenery pretty well, too. These wannabe cops had nothing on her, she thought. That is, until a cruiser pulled out in front of her from some unknown nook, nearly causing her to crash into them. She swore loudly, and veered right as hard as she could, finding another empty road. The shock had reached her bladder, and Jenny was sure she felt some wetness at her groin. They are actually gonna make me piss on myself, aren’t they? The howl of sirens behind her grew louder, and she knew it was gonna be a while longer before she was actually safe. She groaned loudly, and shuffled lightly in her seat. She labored to blank her mind, and just keep focused on the road while she emptied her bladder into her pants. Despite its terrible need to urinate, her bladder resisted. With a push, a jet of urine streamed into her panties. Her groin was overtaken by warmth, and Jenny felt her cheeks burn. She inhaled, and pushed again. Another, longer stream met her underwear, soaking them more thoroughly than the first. She felt the sickly wet heat slowly creep down to her butt. “Piece of shit cops,” she muttered disdainfully while she inhaled, and prepared to really let go. At last, her bladder was persuaded to release its contents. Urine flowed freely into her clothes, completely drenching whatever regions of her panties had remained dry. For the first time, that sickly, warm wetness began to crawl down her thighs. Instinctively, she looked down at her groin to inspect the damage, only to remember that she was wearing leather. Nothing showed on the outside of her pants. However, since none of her pee could soak into and be absorbed by her trousers, all of it ran down her legs. She felt the piss reach her ankles, and soak into her socks as it ran into her shoes. What didn’t flow into her shoes spilled out the bottom of her pants, immediately vanishing into the wind, given that she was driving a good few dozen miles over the speed limit. She wondered if the cops behind her were close enough to wonder what the deal was with the sudden, smelly mist. Her stream slowed, and tapered off, bringing an end to the most unpleasant piss she’d ever taken. Man, it’d really suck to get caught, now. She could already imagine the jokes and laughter they’d share if they managed to catch her, and she was still dripping. She pushed those thoughts out of her mind. Since she’d finished wetting herself, her focus could be returned to more practical matters. The last visible cruiser chasing after her was lagging a good distance behind. Barring any further surprises, a few more unexpected turns should completely separate them, and then she’d just need to drive for a while to make sure they lose the trail. She put her plan into action, and made a sharp turn. The longer the chase went on, the more Jenny found herself driving on what she felt had to be completely uncharted roads. The shacks and trailers she passed by could hardly be misconstrued as being signs of civilization. Being so far out in the boonies was supposed to make it easier to evade the police, for fuck’s sake. Cops in little towns like this were supposed to be laid-back. She took another road, hearing the sirens grow ever more distant behind her. She made several more little turns and detours, until she could no longer hear nor see the horrible red-blue lights and sirens. She couldn’t risk stopping just yet, but she did breathe a little easier. Doing so, she noticed a slight salty smell in the air. She was somewhere near the coast. If she could find a town or city on the water, she could well be home free. Coastal cities get a lot more visitors, and she could blend into the crowd more easily. She was forced to make one short stop when her eyes fell upon her nearly depleted gas gauge. The gas station she found actually occupied a rather scenic spot. Along a high coastal road, providing a look at the rocky shoreline below. She’d be a fool to use her credit card when the cops were chasing her, so she’d have to go in to pay. Just as well, as she wanted to visit the bathroom and see if she could clean herself up, just a bit. She parked her bike, and climbed off of it. The interior lining of her pants, along with her panties, were still quite wet, and had grown cold and clammy. Her shoes and socks were wet, too. She didn’t know which one, but something she was wearing produced a humiliating squish sound as she walked. She had to walk quite slowly to prevent it from happening. She lifted the visor on her helmet, and sniffed the air, hoping she didn’t reek of piss. The gas station was quiet. A man who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else in the world than working the graveyard shift at a gas station manned the counter, watching a small TV with the volume on low. His only greeting was a curt nod in her direction, which she returned. If she smelled like a public bathroom, he didn’t let her know. She walked into the ladies’ room, doing her best not to look like a woman who already made a bathroom out of her underwear. As expected, no one else was inside. She took her helmet off, and set it on the counter in front of the mirror. Her tired reflection looked back at her. Her blonde hair was messy, and only barely resembled the ponytail she’d put it in earlier. She entered the biggest stall available, and mentally braced herself to lower her pants. When she did, she grimaced at the sight of her drenched and yellowed panties. They had been white, once, but an hour and a half of riding and soaking in pee had changed that. Weighing her options, she considered going commando, but she knew that her pants wouldn’t be a great deal more comfortable. For the time being, she settled on getting some toilet paper and wiping her legs down. Jenny froze when she heard the door open. Light footsteps sounded through the bathroom. Jenny hastily yanked her pants back up, ignoring how it pressed her wet panties against her. She peered through an all-too-wide gap in the stall door, and internally screamed when she saw a woman in police attire at the mirror. She was inspecting something about her uniform, but Jenny could tell that her gaze found its way to the slick, black motorcycle helmet on the counter. There was no way they hadn’t radioed every cop for a hundred miles and told them to be on the lookout for that helmet. The cop picked up the helmet, and began to inspect it. While her eyes were away from the mirror that afforded her a view of Jenny’s stall, Jenny quietly slid the door open. She opened up her jacket, and withdrew her pistol from an interior pocket. She cocked it loudly to make the weapon’s presence known, and pressed it into the woman’s back. “Don’t make a move!” Jenny ordered in her most stern voice. The officer’s only movements were to drop the helmet onto the counter, put her hands up, and turn her head slightly to look into the mirror’s reflection. That, and an odd shuddering motion. Her legs shifted repeatedly, and Jenny could see the woman’s face scrunch up. An awful smell hit her, and Jenny could only mutter, “Don’t tell me you just… ” Jenny glanced at the woman’s ass, and looked in disbelief at the large and growing bulge there. Her dark blue pants began to stain as the officer’s somewhat wet load was pushed into them. The poor woman well and truly filled her pants up. Jenny, in her wet underwear, could certainly sympathize with having to hold it, but she’d never soiled herself, before. She’d certainly never had an accident out of fear, before. She was made of sterner stuff than that. “Did you really just crap your drawers?” Jenny asked, judging. She saw the woman’s anger in her reflection, “Why do you think I came to the bathroom, bitch?! You just had to pull this little stunt now, didn’t you?” She was glaring at Jenny’s reflection- and thus at Jenny herself- but the officer’s cheeks were burning read, and tears were brimming in her eyes. There was a soft crackling sound, and the bulge on her ass grew. The officer averted her eyes in shame. There was a wet mound across her rear end, and it looked like some of the mess had escaped down her thighs, as well. Jenny thought her own panties looked bad, but there’d be no saving hers. “Fair enough,” Jenny conceded, “Guess this is what I get for pulling a gun on someone in the toilet. Anyway, here’s what we’ll do: I’m gonna take your gun and walkie-talkie, and I’m gonna handcuff you to something in here. If you don’t make a move, I don’t have to shoot. We clear?” Still scowling, but also still blushing and tearing up, she glanced back to Jenny, “... Clear.” “Awesome,” Jenny confiscated the officer’s gun, sticking it in one of her own pockets. She retrieved the handcuffs, and used her pistol to push the woman forward, and down onto the ground. She cuffed her to a pipe under the sink, and then took the walkie-talkie as she stood back up. The cop was clearly trying to find some way to sit that didn’t have her sitting right on top of her mess. Judging her squirming and cringing, she wasn’t very successful. “Now don’t you worry, I’m sure someone’ll find you before too long.” “Soon as somebody finds me, I’m coming for you,” “Girl, if I were you, I’d be way more focused on coming up with an excuse for why I have a load in my pants,” the cop, “Officer Jones,” as a now-visible name tag identified her, continued to glare at her with the most hateful look. Jenny found pockets to stealthily hide the items she’d taken from Officer Jones, put her own gun away, and reclaimed her helmet. As she reached the door, she turned back to the officer, and put a finger up to the front of her helmet, over her mouth. If Jones was smart, she wouldn’t call out for help. Jenny walked by the employee, who looked even closer to falling into a coma than before. With a mute wave, she left the building. She didn’t even get any gas. She’d have to make do with what little she had left. Resuming her driving, Jenny was certain she was going to have the rash of the century. Her legs were still damp, and already stung lightly. She could only take solace in the fact that she hadn’t shat herself like Jones. Everything else about her night had been shit, just mercifully not in a literal sense. When she saw a road sign announcing the town of Ravenwood, Jenny had little choice but to pay it a visit. The morning sun would be up soon enough, and she was exhausted. Surely, there’d be a hotel with a convenient enough place to stash her bike.
  5. Hey, I actually managed to finish this in time for Halloween! This is part 1 of a new story with all sorts of spooky, scary, horror themes. Quick thing to note: the story will feature both male and female accidents, both wetting and messing. All characters are adults. Happy Halloween! I hope you all enjoy! The world lived in fear of the ever capricious Blood Moon, and the horrors it brought with it. In fortunate times, the Blood Moon would set, and would not rise again for months, or even a few years. In the most forsaken of times, it rose weekly. When its crimson light touched the world, madness and paranoia filled the streets, and beasts rampaged unchecked. Frightful rumors said that one day, the Blood Moon shall rise, and it shall never again set; and all mankind will be lost in a tide of insanity and savagery. But despite all the terror it brought, there are none less fortunate than those born under the Blood Moon, condemned to battle the shadow until their last breath. Chapter One: The Barony Sylvia shivered. Through the great, iron-wrought gate she beheld Tarsa, a massive city with a grand castle built atop a hill at its center. Around it, staggeringly tall monasteries and spires rose to meet the sky. And behind them all, casting the entire city in a bloody silhouette, was the Blood Moon. The chill in the air was not what bothered her, rather the knowledge of what the streets of the city would be like. She’d been to towns and villages afflicted by the curses before, but never such a large city. She shuddered because she could not help but imagine the sights she’d seen in smaller settlements magnified and multiplied in this enormous place. She would find no friends in Tarsa, although that was hardly unusual. Sylvia was a Pariah, someone born under the light of the Blood Moon. She could withstand it, and was able to battle the monsters it brought forth, although it meant that most people saw little difference between herself and the nightmares she contended with. She would be alone, fighting for her life, terrified out of her mind, for days. She took a deep breath, and shoved the great gate open. Even the outskirts of the city were very dense, with tall buildings and cramped streets. Sylvia placed a hand on the sword at her hip, ready for anything, as she strolled by the houses. Some were boarded up, others weren’t, others had been deserted. She could hear people inside some of the houses, some crying, some praying. Some laughing. She hated it- the sound of mad laughter. It always disturbed her. There were footsteps close by, but no one would be foolish enough to wander the streets during the Blood Moon. It was no human that walked near, of that much she was certain. She briefly closed her eyes, willed her instincts to take over, and rounded a corner to face the first of many adversities. Awaiting her was a large, mangy hound, big enough to subdue and devour a man. Judging by the blood caking its mouth, it had already done so. To most, a deadly beast; to Sylvia, however, it would be a warm-up. The thing barked and snarled, and lunged for her. With preternatural swiftness, She drew her sword and ran the hound through in mid-air. She flung its body to the side. Glancing down at herself, she looked to see if she’d managed to keep the thing’s foul blood off of herself, and was pleased to see her brown longcoat and black trousers were clean. Of course, Sylvia knew full well that her clothes would be soaked in blood and piss before the long night was over. A bark in the distance, another hound. No one knew where the monsters came from. Some people thought that crazed humans turned into them, or that they descended from the crimson moonlight. Sylvia was confident they were just born in the shadows during a Blood Moon. She moved to put the fiend down before it could do any damage. It was the same breed as the previous one, and it died just the same- leaping for the huntress, only to be skewered and thrown aside. In a way, Sylvia wanted the more dangerous beasts to hurry up and ambush her. She effortlessly and stoically did away with the runts, but waiting for the real threats to arrive was agony. For her, the anticipation of pain was always worse than the pain itself. Can some winged terror or colossal wolf-man descend upon me, already? Another bark, snarling and furious. It would be a long night. Time was muddied and difficult to measure under a Blood Moon. Even for someone who was mostly immune to its effects, Sylvia didn’t know just how long she’d been in Tarsa. A couple hours was her best guess, and thus far she’d only seen the least of what the night had to offer. Death hounds and scary noises in the distance. She was beginning to grow nervous. But when “normality” finally came, in the form of a woman screaming for help as a madman was about to kill her, Sylvia’s focus became razor-sharp, and she sprinted to them with unnatural speed. The woman, who looked to just be some ordinary citizen, had fallen to the ground, as a hunched man wearing an executioner’s hood approached her with an axe. In the split second before she intercepted the killer, Sylvia noticed a puddle spreading underneath the woman, sending tendrils of steam into the night air. The huntress came to a stop between the two, hearing an animalistic grunt of surprise from the killer. He hefted his axe, and swung for her neck. Slightly more on-guard than she was with the hounds, Sylvia drew her sword and parried the hit, gauging the danger. The madman had been given quite a gift of strength, rivaling her own. She was fortunate then, that he was sloppy, uncoordinated, and quite insane. He struck out again, sending furious slashes at her. Strong and deadly though they were, the killer’s mad rage could not compete with Sylvia’s calm precision. With each dodge and parry, she was getting closer, until finally she had studied her opponent enough to place her attack. One final parry, and in an eyeblink, her sword was buried to its hilt in the man’s chest. He gurgled, and collapsed, as Sylvia let him slide off of her sword. She didn’t wish to frighten the woman any further, so Sylvia was careful to sheathe her sword before approaching. The citizen was still sitting in her now cold puddle of urine. She slowly looked up to meet Sylvia’s gaze. “Are… Are you going to… ” “I’m not going to hurt you, miss,” Sylvia answered, in her somewhat low, boyish voice. “But… Aren’t you moonborn?” “I am.” “You’re not gonna k-kill me for being outside?” She asked, in disbelief. “I do not plan to,” Sylvia answered, matter-of-factly. She was accustomed to the rumors and superstitions. “Is your home far from here?” “Uh, no ma’am! It’s right there, I only came out because I heard someone calling… ” “People driven to madness by the Blood Moon often call out to lure victims to them. Go inside, and stay inside. And change your clothes.” Sylvia’s eyes drifted down to the tepid puddle, and the stain that had soaked into the woman’s dress. For the first time, she looked down and noticed her bladder’s failure. She blushed and buried her hands between her thighs, “Oh. Ah, I-” “Go,” The huntress commanded. The woman obeyed, scurrying inside and flinging a trail of droplets behind herself. The encounter had confirmed to her that things were as bad as she feared, and only going to get worse. Madmen being strengthened by the Blood Moon was a terrible indication of things to come. She found herself hoping that another moonborn or two would arrive to help purge the city, but she was rarely so fortunate. More screaming in the distance, more madness and beasts. She took a deep breath, and ran towards the sound. Chapter Two: A Soothing Voice Through confusing, indistinguishable days, hours, or minutes, Sylvia continued to offer battle to the crimson light. She rounded a corner to find a pack of death hounds, and had to carefully dodge each bite as she took them out, one by one. She found another madman, this one armed with a spear and wearing a sack cloth over his head. He went down after a few parries. Though each encounter was growing deadlier, she had not even broken a sweat, and not enemy had come close to hurting her. But when she heard that terrible, dreadful screech, her blood ran cold. She knew that her stoic expression was broken by a brief look of fear. She had heard cries like that before. The thing that made them was a true monster among monsters. Though she wished very dearly not to, she took off running towards the origin of the howl. If she did not kill it then, she would not be able to kill it later. Dashing through gothic structures and grim alleys, she found herself suddenly in an open courtyard, with pleasant trees and flowers blooming happily, apathetic to the doom around them. At the far end of the courtyard stood a tall woman, wearing a lovely dress in hues of red and black, and holding a pink parasol above herself. The courtyard was built overlooking a lower section of the city, which the woman seemed transfixed by. So much so, that she did not seem to notice or care about the massive werewolf that was preparing to attack her. The creature was the stuff of nightmares and myths, at least three times the size of a man, and far stronger than it looked. Sylvia’s legs trembled lightly, her mouth went dry. Any beast could frighten her, but she had felt the wrath of werewolves before, and they terrified her. The beast became wise to her intrusion, and spun around with a snarl. Its mouth was not like a wolf’s, but more like a shark’s- with many rows of needle-like fangs, covered in blood. The black pits that functioned as its eyes locked onto her, and it howled- deafening and horrifying. She fearfully drew her sword, and gritted her teeth. Behind the monster, the strange woman had turned, and now watched them, instead. The werewolf charged forward, delivering a bone-shattering swipe of its massive claw as it moved. Sylvia dodged out of the thing’s way just in time, but just the gust of wind that followed the attack nearly knocked her down. Werewolves grew in size and strength as they killed and fed, and this one had fed quite a bit. With feral speed and cruelty, it swiped again, and again, with Sylvia’s dodges becoming narrower each time. Its body went low to the ground, its gargantuan paws pulling it forward very swiftly. Its great maw opened, the teeth promising a slow and painful death, chomping and gnashing. She could not retreat for long before it caught her, and so delivered a slash across its nose when it was close enough. The beast reeled, howling in pain. It stood on its hind legs, one paw clutching its injured snout as it howled into the night sky. She used the opening, and ran to its side, slashing open one of its back legs. The pained howling intensified, but then the beast decided to use the pain to fuel its assault. Before Sylvia could react, it hit her with a powerful swipe of the back of its paw. To someone weaker than herself, even that likely would’ve been fatal. She flew through the air, colliding with a wall and sliding to the ground. She slumped over onto her right side, lying on the ground. She was in a great deal of pain, and her body did not heed her brain’s demands to get back to her feet. She became aware of the sensation of her bladder emptying, and a creeping warmth between her legs. Her pants were rapidly saturating with her piss, which spread across her right thigh. It ran down both the front and back as she lay on her side, creating a spreading pool on the cobblestone below her. She was sure that her coat was being stained with her water, as well. No, I won’t die like this, pissing my pants like a coward… Mustering her strength, she forced herself upright once again. She stood back up, not minding that the last of her urine was still flowing out of her, allowing a little of the wetness to slip down her left thigh, and prepared to resume the fight. The werewolf had been approaching her slowly and cautiously, not wanting another slash across its nose. With startling agility, it abandoned the careful approach, and lunged for her with both of its forelegs. With the wall behind her preventing her from dodging away, she instead slid under the giant claws, cutting the beast’s belly as she ducked between its hind legs, and emerged behind it. It reared back, turned around, and swiped low. She jumped back, but the werewolf’s claws struck the dirt and stone, sending up a cloud of pulverized earth. In less than the span of a heartbeat, the silhouette of its mouth appeared in the cloud, then emerged on Sylvia’s side of it, bellowing out an unholy roar as the twin beds of needles it called a mouth surged for her. She tried to react, swinging her sword, but she couldn’t even raise it in time. Before it could deliver the decisive blow, a parasol, thrown through the air like a javelin, impacted its eye. Black blood sputtered out, and it began thrashing and throwing itself around in a mad frenzy. Sylvia was standing there dumbstruck, still catching up to the fact that she wasn’t dead. She felt a weight forming in her underwear, and then the sound registered with her. She was loudly soiling herself. She could feel her mess steadily filling her wet panties, spreading across her backside when it met the resistance of her pants. But there was no time to concentrate on her incontinence; by the strange woman’s miraculous intervention, Sylvia had an opening. Her slackened grip on her sword tightened back up, and she charged the beast, Paying no mind to the mass in the seat of her underwear that swayed with each step. The werewolf was once again howling into the sky, standing “upright,” as it were. Instead of going for one of its legs, Sylvia this time chose to jump into the fur of its chest. She stabbed her sword into it for leverage, and climbed higher. When she could reach the space where she reckoned its heart ought to be, she began furiously stabbing and stabbing, plunging her sword as deep as it would go. The monstrosity’s howls grew faint and choked, and it finally slowed. It reached for her, and Sylvia ripped her sword out and jumped off of it. It tried to follow after her, but fell to the ground, still at last. Sylvia was breathing hard, a rarity for the moonborn. The beast was dead, and she was not. She supposed that’s all she could’ve asked for, feeling the chill wind against her wet trousers. She stared at the werewolf’s body for a long while, until approaching footsteps reminded her that she was not alone. “Are you unharmed, madam?” The strange woman asked, stooping to retrieve her parasol. She spoke with an accent Sylvia had trouble placing. “I should be asking you that,” The huntress replied quietly, breathlessly. The woman smiled faintly, very faintly, “I am just fine. You have done well, madam.” It wasn’t that her accent was difficult to place, Sylvia realized, but that her manner of speaking was abnormal. It was slightly stilted, and the words were oddly paced. Even so, they seemed sincere, “Thank you. Is your home far from here?” “Yes. Very far. Why do you ask?” “You should head home. I can see you safely there. Most creatures of the Blood Moon won’t be able to enter your home unless they’re invited, so you’ll be safe there.” The woman stepped closer, still smiling faintly. So close, Sylvia could see that she towered over the huntress. Sylvia was not a short woman, but the stranger before her stood a full head taller. Her pale face had smooth features, and her black hair was tied into an elegant bun. “You are kind to offer, but I do not think we will reach my home,” She said. “Who are you?” She asked with trepidation. She was getting the sensation that this woman might not have been entirely sane and natural. “Ah!” The woman seemed surprised by the question, as if she hadn’t expected to have to give her own name, “... Mary. Call me Mary.” “All right, then,” Sylvia began, “Mary, You need to find somewhere safe. I’ll be killing these creatures for as long as I can. Right now, this city is no place for someone like you.” “Oh, moonborn, you speak bravely,” The mention of her bravery brought the sensations of her cold, wet, and quite full trousers to the forefront of her mind, “But there is no need for that.” “No need for what?” Sylvia’s patience was thinning, “For you to be safe, or for me to kill the monsters?” Mary set her hand gently on the huntress’ shoulder, “For you to pretend. I see that you are afraid, in pain. You do not need to pretend that you are not.” “... It threw me against a wall. It was natural to have… lost control of myself,” She blushed as she defended her wetting, assuming that’s what the other woman was referring to. “You have done so very well, madam. Be proud of that, not ashamed of unimportant failings,” Mary’s voice, even as strange as it was, was so very soothing. And her words… She hadn’t once berated or expressed fear of Sylvia for being a moonborn. “What are you saying?” “That they have asked so very much of you, and you have already given more than that.” “Do you… truly mean that?” Her smile deepened, “I do, madam huntress.” Sylvia didn’t know how to respond; no one had ever said anything so comforting to her, before. “What do you want from me?” “Hm? Do you think I only wish a favor from you?” “Why else would you try to befriend a moonborn?” She paused, collecting her thoughts for a moment. She did not speak first, but rather embraced Sylvia in a gentle hug. The huntress initially tensed in alarm, but calmed down quickly. “You must have seen such hardship, to think even words of kindness will be used to hurt you.” She knew it had to be a ruse, a trap of some kind, but Sylvia was overwhelmed by the embrace, and the reassurance. She had never met anyone who wanted to bring her comfort and kindness. Even knowing that soon enough, the trap would be sprung, Sylvia wrapped her arms around Mary, content to enjoy the human connection for as long as she could pretend it was real. Tears brimmed in her eyes, and she felt her exhaustion catching up to her. In the arms of this stranger, Sylvia felt herself fading into unconsciousness, certain that once her eyes closed, they would never open again. And thus, once lucidity had returned to her, her surprise was palpable. She was alone, in the living room of an unknown home. She was lying upon a cot beside a lit fireplace, pleasantly warm and feeling rested. She inspected herself for damage, but found nothing beyond the welts and bruises she had received from the werewolf. More pressingly, she was dressed only in smallclothes, with her huntress outfit folded neatly beside the cot. Bracing for embarrassment, she groped at her backside, searching for the bulge of her soiling and the urine-soaked fabric, but found nothing of the sort. She was clean. She pushed her folded coat aside, and lifted up her black trousers. Holding them against the fire’s light, she could make out the slightest hint of a stain, and she thought that she could possibly smell something about them, but they were otherwise quite clean. Her sword had been placed into its scabbard and left beside her clothing, as well. She set about dressing herself hastily. She was already ashamed at having voided herself, and then had to contend with the shame of taking a nap during a Blood Moon. I’m a miserable excuse of a huntress, she thought scornfully, as she slid her trousers on, happy to not feel the earthy sensation of her own mess pressed against her. Approaching footsteps, once again, and Mary appeared in the room. “Oh, madam huntress, are you feeling any better, now?” “Where are we?” “An empty house in the streets of Tarsa. We are safe, here.” “Did… did you clean me and my clothes?” “I did. You were wet, and you had soiled yourself badly. I did not want for you to have to again endure that shame when you woke.” “I’m… perfectly aware of the fact that I lost control of my bowels and bladder, Mary,” She said in annoyance, “But still, thank you. You’re right, it was nice to… not wake up to it.” “Would it bring comfort to you if I did the same?” “You did?” Sylvia’s eyes widened in surprise. She hadn’t noticed if Mary had fouled herself, but she supposed it wasn’t impossible, “Uh, I suppose that it does bring me comfort, yes.” “Very well, then,” Mary responded, closing her eyes. Her body tensed for a moment. Sylvia watched her in confusion, then the sound of hissing filled the room. A splotch of wetness darkened the fabric of her red dress, in front of her legs. From the hem of the skirt, streams and droplets fell to the ground, as puddles emerged around her feet. There was a light crackling, and the smell that graced Sylvia’s nose confirmed that Mary had voluntarily soiled herself, as well. “Now the shame can be shared.” Sylvia took a step back as the pool of urine nearly touched her boot, and looked at Mary, completely befuddled. “Mary, that’s not… Why did you… Now we’ll have to clean your clothes, too! I- I need to be back out there, fighting! I don’t have time for… this.” She was certain, then, that the crimson moonlight had driven Mary mad. Mary chuckled, as faint as her characteristic smile, “Ah, madam huntress, it will take no time at all to clean,” She slowly waved her hand over the urine stain on her dress, and the both of them watched as the fabric returned to its normal, un-pissed state. Although, like with her own trousers, Sylvia thought she could see the faint outline of a stain. Mary slowly passed both of her hands in a circle around herself, and the puddle on the ground dissipated, as did the unpleasant odor from the mess in her underwear. “... Mary,” Sylvia began, after a long silence, “You aren’t human, are you?” Before she even spoke, her face gave it away, “Indeed not, madam huntress.” Sylvia’s mind was blank, she had no idea what to do about a creature like Mary- she’d never encountered anything like her. “I… I don’t want to have to hurt you, Mary. I don’t know what you might be, but if you stay here, then I can resume my duty as a moonborn, and I can claim that I never saw you.” “You wish to return to the horror and violence outside already?” “The Blood Moon has been out for a while already. I have to fight the things it spawns before they become too numerous to stop. When the Blood Moon ends, the city has to be safe enough for everyone to emerge from their homes.” “Oh, but madam huntress, don’t you see? There is no need to hurry,” Mary began, with a sympathetic look upon her face, “This Blood Moon will never end.” Chapter Three: Spirit of Discovery The official reason for William’s visit to Tarsa was to study at their robust libraries. And while this was not a lie, strictly speaking, it most certainly was not the whole truth. He had read the omens, the signs in the stars, and he knew that Tarsa would be the epicenter of a Blood Moon- where its effects were strongest and its monsters deadliest. William thought he was clever. He had tried to warn people, but few believed him. He settled instead on preparing himself for his experiments. A number of reagents, blended together and boiled, produced a potion that he believed could inoculate someone to the madness of the Blood Moon. But then, the moonlight had come so much sooner than expected, and William discovered that he was not a brave enough man to step outside the safety of his dwelling and test his potion. Now, it was all he could do to watch from his room in the apothecaries’ tower, looking out the window at the city below, as chaos and destruction engulfed the land. He shook in fear as he beheld giant beasts being birthed from the shadowed places between homes, What was I thinking?! That I could convince everyone?! That I would be safe enough to step outside?! William was a thin man, a little on the short side, and far from being the image of physical fitness. He was not at all qualified to face the horrors that surrounded him. All at once, his plan had gone from genius to profoundly stupid, and he was left wanting to curl up on the ground and wet himself. He had no food in his room, and the Blood Moon could well last long enough that he would starve if he didn’t leave. And of course, if he was wrong, and his potion didn’t work, then stepping out into the crimson moonlight could cause him to lose his mind. No… No, I’ll just wait here for rescue. He went to lie down on his bed, but stopped, and grabbed his flintlock pistol, placing it on the nightstand, first. He lied down, on his back, with his hands on his chest. Only then did he notice that they were shaking terribly. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, willing himself to ignore the howling, screaming, and ethereal wind that flowed in through the window. So focused was he on ignoring the sounds outside, that he did not notice the sound of claws penetrating the stone walls of the tower, climbing closer and closer. Not until the thing climbing had nearly reached his window. His heart practically stopped, and he quietly slipped out of bed, and grabbed his pistol. The stony clack, clack of the beast climbing was extremely close, but he could now discern that it was off to the side, a short distance away from his window. Then it was quiet for a moment. They… they can’t come in unless they’re let in, right? The books said most of the creatures can’t come in! That’s why there’s several kinds that trick you into coming out or opening your door! They can’t come in! For a brief moment, he felt something like relief. Then he heard snarling, and screaming from the room adjacent to his own. Furniture getting thrown and destroyed, and the sounds of a struggle, until all he heard was a monster feasting on meat, and a quiet hissing. The hissing accompanied a heat in his pants, and he looked down to see his brown trousers were host to a slowly spreading stain in the front. He grabbed himself, and forced his bladder to stop its release. Once he regained control of himself, he pulled his wet hand away, and inspected the damage. The piss stain was only slightly larger than his hand, and he didn’t think he had time to change, with the creature so close. No, he would have to tolerate the dampness for a while. He hastily scooped all of his alchemical supplies into his satchel, slid his pistol into a pocket on the inside of his buttoned vest, and guzzled one of his inoculation potions. With as much silence as was possible in his terrified, panicked state, he fled from his room and down the stairs of the tower. Once he reached the bottom, and approached the threshold of the door, he hesitated. Would his potion truly protect him? Would he go insane after leaving the tower? The snarling up above reminded him that he had little choice in the matter, and he threw the door open. Whether the potion worked or not, the sensation of being outside was alien and unpleasant. He could feel the moonlight, caressing his slightly dark skin, wrapping around him. He could hear it, too; a wind that moved slowly, but still howled. But, as he stood there, basking in the unholy glow, waiting to descend into madness, nothing happened. He was still himself, he was pretty sure. He chanced another step, then another; carefully coercing his frightened legs to carry him further into the terrible night. He needed to find another shelter, preferably one with sturdier windows. Any time he heard a rustling, a voice, or footsteps, he froze in his tracks. The city was full of sound, and any thing he heard could be the last thing he heard. But he soldiered on, continuing his trek to anywhere else. He heard movement around a corner, and slowly chanced a peek at the source. He saw a woman, walking and swaying like she was drunk, and clutching a large farming scythe. He knew she was not simply drunk, she had been driven mad. That scythe was meant for people like him, who ventured outside and didn’t lose their minds. He tiptoed by, keeping quiet. Down the street, he spotted a promising house, with strong walls and few windows. He tried the door, but found it locked. He gripped the doorknob and tried to shove and pull on it repeatedly, hoping to overwhelm the lock, but to no avail. He rounded a corner, into an alley, hoping to get behind the house and find an unlocked door. He hopped a small fence into the back garden, and tried his luck with the door there. Locked, again. He cursed under his breath, and turned to seek out another house. Only to bump into the blunt end of a scythe blade. The madwoman was there, standing right behind him, grinning evilly. “Caught you… ” She said in a singsong voice. William gasped in surprise as he hastily drew his pistol. His arms were shaking and inarticulate, and he mistimed his shot. The projectile impacted something behind the madwoman, who didn’t even flinch. She exhaled slowly, then swung her scythe in a wide arc, the blade passing right in front of William’s face. He screamed and fell down, landing on his rear. He scrambled backwards, until his back was pressed flat against the locked door. The woman, swaying and giggling madly, took a step forward, raising her scythe. William heard the hissing again, and looked down to see the piss stain on his pants had grown wet again, and was expanding. The urine rushed downward, washing across his butt and forming a growing pool around him as he sat on the ground. The madwoman’s giggling intensified as she looked at his fear-induced wetting. “Don’t be so scared,” She slurred out, “Soon you’ll get to dance in the moonlight… ” She raised the scythe above her head. William felt tears in his eyes, and one or two rolling down his cheeks. Then suddenly, he fell backwards, into the space the door had blocked. Two powerful hands gripped his shoulders and pulled him inside, merely a second before the scythe cleaved the space his neck had been. He was dragged inside, and the door was closed and locked, to the chagrin of the madwoman, who howled and banged on the door. “Don’t worry, she can’t get in,” Said a woman with a boyish voice. William finally looked up to see his rescuers. A swordswoman in a brown leather longcoat, and a very tall woman in a red dress. “Y-you two s-saved me… T-thank you,” He squeaked out in a quivering voice, smiling as the fear passed. “We heard the gunshot and the screaming, and I figured you hadn’t lost your mind, yet,” The huntress woman said. “Oh dear,” The tall woman began, “He’s wet himself. Shall I help him clean?” William covered his soaked crotch with his hands, blushing hotly. While he was certainly not a romantic nor especially masculine, it still stung his pride quite a bit for these women to see his pissed pants. Before he could answer, the huntress hurried out a response, “No! No… At least, not like you helped me, earlier.” She whispered something else to her friend, which William thought sounded like the words “He doesn’t need to know about that.” “Very well, madam huntress,” The tall woman offered him her hand, and helped him to his feet. “There are facilities down the hallway for you to clean yourself, and I can clean your clothes for you.” “Er, thank you,” William was confused by the strange pair, but at least neither of them was swinging a weapon at him. He wandered down the hall, finding a room with a long-cold bath drawn. Someone must’ve been planning on a relaxing night before the Blood Moon came. He left his stained clothes outside the door, and set about washing himself. Much later, after William had calmed down from the attack, and he and his clothes had been thoroughly cleaned, he sat beside the fire in the living room, grateful for the warmth. Behind him, both women were silent. “Am I… interrupting something? Or are you just trying to keep an eye on me? Because I promise that I’m not one of them! I even made a potion to resist the madness!” “A potion can do that?” The huntress, Sylvia, asked. “It seems to have worked on me.” Sylvia’s eyebrows raised in quiet acknowledgement of the achievement, “Impressive, but… We’re not watching you. I just… ” “She does not know how to proceed,” The tall woman, Mary, explained. “I informed her that this Blood Moon will be without end, and she is distraught.” William whirled around, “This Blood Moon- What?!” “It has come to stay, sir alchemist.” He stared at her, “How can you possibly know that?” Mary looked to Sylvia, who was shaking her head, “I should not say. But my knowledge is correct. But sir alchemist, you say you have created a potion to resist the madness?” “Ah, yes, I have,” He drew one of his extra vials of the bitter drink, showing the yellow-orange mixture to his companions. “Oh! Wonderful!” Mary clapped her hands together, “Madam huntress, this creates new possibilities!” “Such as?” “If we can reach the cathedral at the heart of the city, then the Blood Moon need not last forever.” The stoic huntress’ eyes lit up, “You mean that we can stop it?” Mary nodded, “At the cathedral, if we free those there from the moonlight, without killing them, I believe we can return things to normal.” “Is she… all right?” William asked Sylvia. “Mary can be cryptic, but I think we can trust her,” The huntress stood, and stretched, “Besides, I’m a moonborn, I’ve wasted too much time in here. I might as well fight my way to the cathedral.” “You’re-” William began, but thought better of his statement, “- the person who saved me. I’ll follow you.” “It won’t be safe. That madwoman with the scythe will seem downright friendly when you see the other monsters out there.” “I know, but… I need to help, somehow. I came here to test my potion, but if the Blood Moon never ends, then I can use it to help everyone prepare for the next one. I’m not strong, or very brave, but if I can help you, then I want to!” Mary clapped her hands together again, “This is splendid news! I had worried that I would not find individuals who could save this place, but I have found two very brave souls.” Sylvia thought for a moment, “All right, then. Let’s head for the cathedral.”
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    Support the developers here. Try online version before download. I kept spending my spare time translating games. From now I'll take a rest and actually play my translated games, lol. CommonEvents.json
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  7. This is a fiction about the anime "Mieruko-chan", English isn't my main language so please be compassionate. Attention for those who know the original work: probably except for some events the story will deviate particularly from the original one, just think of the fact that in this version Miko does not have a brother (Kyousuke) but a sister (Keiko), obviously I will try to keep the elements of wetting on the train and of the bed (which I will change into a futon for those interested), good reading. Chapter 1: "True Fear Stories". Contents: Allusions to bedwetting, pissing in the toilet. Main characters: Miko (Stoic future medium), Keiko (Miko's little sister). Note: Low content, you can skip it if you don't care about the storyline. "Eeeyahhh" A girl screamed with tears in her eyes after seeing a kind of ghost similar to the well-known Samara from the Ring novel series come out of the refrigerator. "Scary isn't it?" Said a mustachioed man in traditional clothing. "Oh, a lot!" A girl dressed in pink pajamas next to her answered. "And these things are 100% real, dear viewers, after all the show is called True Scary Stories!" The man said looking into the camera and then continued: "Tell me, what would you do if you were the one who found yourself in that situation?" addressing the girl beside her. "Hmm what a difficult question ... I think I would probably ignore it hoping not to wet myself!" The girl replied, looking up at the camera after reflecting on it with her head down. “Oh ho, a very common answer! well now the next clip, it looks like the next one is going to be so scary that even the cameraman is passed out, so try not to make spots or spoil appear wherever you are sitting! -sschwump- “Miko! Have you clogged the shower drain with your hair again? " Said a girl in a T-shirt and shorts in her early teens after she left the washroom door with the towel still on her head while she rubbed her brown hair. "Huh? I don't think so, however, there is that show you wanted so much to watch on TV, True Scary Stories. ”A yellow-eyed, black-haired teen girl with bizarre purple tips replied, she was wearing teal pajamas thin enough to reveal. the contours of undergarments. "Ah, I wanted to see it," Said the younger girl slinging on the sofa and then adding: "Who are you chatting with?". "I'm chatting with Hana," Miko replied. "Huff! Big sister, you drank both cans of cola ... is it late, are you sure you'll be able to fall asleep? And one of them was mine anyway!" The younger sister said with a tone between angry and playful. "Oh ... sorry, I was lost in thought, do you want me to go to the vending machines on the corner?" The older girl apologized. "No, it doesn't matter, I wasn't thirsty anyway, I was saying it for you, anyway ... very hydrated and with the thought of the ghost program ... you don't want to wet the sheets while you sleep?" Said the younger sister in a more playful tone. “Eeeeh, thanks for the concern Keiko but no need to worry, rather how is YOUR bed-wetting problem? Ah sorry sorry Keiko I was lost in thought ”Miko with an amused tone replied to her teasing with another and then apologized immediately knowing that it was bothering her. “I haven't wet the bed in years! You should know ... "Keiko said after blushing strongly, Her problem was unknown to anyone outside her family but she had stopped wetting the bed only two years before except for some occasional event, which bothered her because she liked being considered great especially by her big sister who always seemed to her so mature and stoic, she had certainly never seen her have an accident. Half an hour after the sisters started watching the broadcast. -Click- The front door opened after being unlocked and a woman very similar to Miko, only older, walked in with an envelope in her hand. "Mom! You scared me!" Keiko said after hugging her older sister. "Moment of tension ruined," Miko thought and then greeted his mother: "Welcome back mom, How was your day at work? "All right except my colleague who kept calling me for every nonsense, he's new but if she keeps calling me Touko from here and Touko dillà I'll think she has a crush on me hahaha ... sorry, you girls instead? Did you eat?" Touko asked hoping not to have bored his daughters. "All right mum, I've finished the essay for sociology!" Keiko replied boasting. "And you Miko?" Touko asked smiling. "Everything ok ... Yawn ..." Miko replies to be interrupted by her own yawn and then said: "ah I'm tired I'm going to sleep because tomorrow I'm going to wake up early and see me with Hana a little before school" And then she got up from the sofa. "Remember to brush your teeth and go to the bathroom, after all, that cola!" The younger sister almost shouted. "Ahaha, Miko looks like you have a new big sister!" The mother said smiling at Keiko and then added "Goodnight darling see you tomorrow!" This time addressing the older sister. -Psssssssssssssss- "Ahhh" Miko sighed after emptying her bladder, as she went she wondered if she ever wets the bed for not going to the bathroom before sleeping, but she stopped thinking about it immediately after drying and pulling up her white panties and pants. pajamas. "Ah, Keiko must have leaned against the mirror ... strange it's very high up, did she do it on purpose?" Miko thought as she erased fingerprints on the bathroom mirror she had distractedly noticed after getting up from the toilet. Weekly Wetting / Messing Incident Statistics: Miko (0/0) Keiko (? /?) Touko (? /?) Supernatural Powers: Miko (?) End of Chapter 1
  8. For the first time ever, I have actually have something done by the time I said I would. Enjoy this extremely long piece, clocking in at over 10k words. It is as creepy and Halloweeny as I could make it, and contains a great many accidents, both wetting and messing, and both male and female. Happy Halloween! __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Despite the loud voices and raucous laughter of her friends, the car ride was surprisingly peaceful. Lily did her utmost to enjoy the relative serenity before they arrived at their destination. A haunted house attraction. A very high-quality, one, too. “Remind me,” came the voice of Emile, who sat behind her, “What makes this place so special?” The young man had a bad habit of not listening to people. “Emmy,” Leroy, Lily’s boyfriend, answered, “If you ask me that again, I’m gonna bury you.” “Like to see you try,” Emile replied, chuckling. “I forgot, all right? Tell me what the big deal is. Really sell it to me.” “Real scary place,” Leroy made sure to speak very slowly, as if he were addressing a toddler, “People died in the house, and these guys made a haunted house trip out of it. The whole thing is so scary, you have to be at least 18 to get in, on account of some kid getting traumatized.” “‘Getting traumatized,’ dude, the kid went missing,” Said May from the back seat. “What?” Lily asked, unable to keep concern out of her voice. She’d heard the bit about it being scary, she didn’t know about a missing kid. “Don’t worry, Lily,” May said reassuringly, “Cops said the kid just got so terrified he ran off. He didn’t, like… die in the house, or anything.” May, despite being the sporty tomboy that she was, always took on this slightly maternal tone with Lily. “Sheesh, May, you’re gonna make her pee herself before we even get there,” Emile intoned. Lily blushed and shrunk in her seat a little bit. Their tradition of visiting a haunted house on Halloween had begun two years ago, and on both previous visits, Lily had had an accident out of fear. On the first year, she simply was overwhelmed by the sounds and atmosphere of the house, and unconsciously piddled down her legs as she walked. Only when Leroy asked if she was okay did she notice the trail she’d left behind her. Mercifully, she’d worn a skirt, so no one could see the wetness. The second year, a man in a particularly good costume burst through a wall and swung a very convincing prop chainsaw at her. She’d run as fast as she could, and only when she stopped did she notice that her jeans were thoroughly soaked in her urine, and her underwear full with her waste. While her friends liked to tease her about it, they were quite helpful in escorting her out of the house before anyone could notice her accidents. “Sorry, Lily, I didn’t mean to worry you,” May said, in her matronly voice again. “And hey,” she began searching through the pockets of her shorts, before finally producing a taser from them, “Anyone actually tries to hurt us, and they’re getting zapped!” May spoke in a joking tone, but Lily knew her friend wouldn’t hesitate to jump to their defense. Emile instinctively leaned away when she drew the taser. He was quite familiar with its electric kiss. When she first bought the thing for self defense, Emile immediately volunteered to be their first test subject to see how well it worked. It worked pretty well. Emile promptly fell down and soiled his pants when the tazing was done. Lily had been secretly happy that they now had someone else to tease about having an accident. “Ladies and gentlemen,” Leroy interjected, “Please put the weapons away, because we are here.” The car came to a stop, and they disembarked. Ahead of them was a fairly downtrodden two-story house. The years had not been kind, and it truly looked like the new owners had done nothing but make sure the place wouldn’t collapse on the guests. Even from such a distance, she could see the decades of dust and dirt along its walls. Many windows were boarded up, and covered on the inside, blocking any view of the horrors lying in wait. They weren’t even inside yet, and Lily was already getting chills. Outside the house, a festive Halloween party was going on. People who worked at the attraction, or who were there to visit it sat around, enjoying drinks, snacks and music. It looked to Lily far more inviting than the fear she was about to subject herself to. She wondered if any of the others were as anxious as she was. Emile was probably the most apprehensive, aside from her. He was bad at not conveying everything he felt through his body language. She could see that her friend was on edge, already. She’d never known Leroy or May to be afraid of much of anything, though, and she couldn’t imagine that was going to change. Except snakes, Leroy had once confided in her that he was terrified of snakes. Just looking at all of them filing out of the car, Lily felt like they belonged in a horror movie. They had her: the, by her own admittance, small and shy woman. She wore an orange sweater with a Jack-o-lantern face on the chest, and a long blue skirt. Her blonde hair hung in ponytail. Then there was Emile. He was the second shortest of all of them, only a few inches taller than she. He was boisterous, loud, and difficult to actually bother. Everything seemed to just bounce right off of him and never leave him too annoyed. He just wore a simple white shirt, black jacket, and some baggy jeans. May walked slightly ahead of him. Her silhouette could honestly have had you mistake her for a male. She was quite tall, athletic, had a rather small chest, and kept her black hair cut short and messy. The cold didn’t bother her, and so she wore a light green tee shirt and green shorts, exposing her dark, well-tanned skin. Leroy headed up the pack. He stood nearly a head taller than Lily. He was quite slender, and tended to wear tight clothes to show it off. A white and red shirt rested underneath a trim, black jacket. He wore tight, dark blue jeans. His face, and indeed, his whole body had a number of sharp, angular features that all complemented his overall figure and were, by Lily’s reckoning, quite handsome. She stole one last look at the car, and then the party, before catching up with the others. Her chances of escape grew slimmer by the second. She walked close to Leroy to help steel herself. They approached the door, and Lily took comfort in the fact that she still had her ace-in-the-hole; and in the fact that Emile and May hadn’t noticed her ace-in-the-hole. Beneath her long skirt, in place of panties, Lily wore a diaper. She’d lost enough pairs of underwear to her fear, and Leroy had suggested she seek some protection. She hoped she wouldn’t need it, but somehow, she doubted she would leave this place without needing a change. -------------------------------------------- There was absolutely no way she was leaving without needing a change. The inside of the house was huge, much bigger than she thought it was. It was like a choose-your-own-fright game inside, with separate wings of the house hosting different scares. They’d been through one of the routes, a zombie themed one, and already Lily could feel a light wetness around her crotch. Their costumes were just good, her brain kept forgetting that is was all just pretend. Emile, and even May were clearly also unsettled by it. As always, Leroy moved as casually as he did at the grocery store. “Didn’t that scare you at least a little?” Lily asked him. “Not a bit. They get you goin’?” “Oh please, when I have ever been scared at one of these?” She joked, trying to ignore how she’d already peed a little. “Next up, let’s go the other set-up on the first floor, then we’ll head upstairs,” Leroy instructed. Crossing through the large, open foyer into the next section, they found themselves in a room that had been so convincingly dolled up to look like a misty, haunted forest that Lily kept expecting a breeze to roll through. If the scare for this room was just its ambience, it would have been enough. Naturally, though, Lily wasn’t that lucky. High pitched laughter, like that of a small girl’s, broke the tense silence of their party. Emile and May spun around, looking for its source. Lily simply grabbed on to Leroy’s arm. There was a rustle in some of the fake bushes near them, rousing all of their attention. As they all watched, ready for something to jump out, footsteps raced behind them. They turned again, but saw nothing. That giggling came again, from a few directions, surrounding them. It was all too much, and Lily’s mind couldn’t reconcile what it saw with what it knew- that it was all pretend. Things became overwhelming, she really was lost in a forest, with fog so thick it was suffocating. Something really was following them, chasing them. Her knees came together, and she felt her crotch warm up once more. Two long releases of urine streamed into her diaper, both of them synced up with that creepy laughter. A silhouette resolved itself in the mist, that of a small girl in a torn dress. “Are you lost, too?” She said in a wispy voice. Lily buried her face in Leroy’s chest, willing the fear to go away. He wrapped his hand around her, and slowly escorted her forward, through the rest of the “forest”. He did his best to interject himself between his girlfriend and whatever other horrors the forest had to offer. The two of them made it out of the forest wing before Emile and May. Lily took a long moment to catch her breath and try to get her heart to stop racing. Leroy had a look of real concern on his face, and she didn’t blame him. She’d never been so scared before. “Lily, are you all right?” “Y-yeah, I think so… ” She was panting and her voice was shaky. “I guess this place is what it’s cracked up to be, huh? Listen, if you want, you and I can just go hang out at the party outside.” “We- we don’t have to… ” She shifted uncomfortably, her wet diaper an ever present reminder of her terror, “But, um… I did have my, y’know… issue, in there.” “No judgments here. That kid was a natural at this. I think I saw a sign for a bathroom upstairs, you can get cleaned up in there.” “That sounds good,” Though she wished he wouldn’t say it so loud. -------------------------------------------- “Did you see where the others went?” Emile asked, having noticed that their party had shrunk. “Huh? Oh.” May took her eyes off the faux forest around them, and noticed their now relative solitude for the first time, “I bet Leroy just got Lily out of here. Did you see how scared the poor thing was?” “Yeah, that’s probably about right. Guessing we’ll find them outside.” The fog from the fog machines grew very thick, and it became difficult to even see the path they were meant to follow. Hazarding a guess, Emile walked forward, passed some of the fake trees. May followed behind him. Both of them nervously looked around as they walked. After a short moment, the fog parted just enough for them to see a door up ahead. Emile opened it, expecting to see the foyer, but the two of them were instead greeted by a series of boxes, stacked high and covered with blankets and tarps. “Ah, shit,” He muttered, “I think we just found a storeroom for the decorations.” “Not likely,” May responded, walking by him and getting a closer look at the boxes. “Look at the dust on some of these. They definitely haven’t been touched in years.” “Huh. So then… what is this place?” “No clue, but hey,” She bent over to pick something up. When she stood again, she was holding a skull, “‘least they decorated a little bit, for us intrepid explorers.” She looked the item over, raising her eyebrows, “shit, this thing looks real. I gotta know where these guys buy this stuff.” Emile lifted one of the covers from a crate, sending up a cloud of dust. He briefly tried to pop open the crate itself, but it was bolted shut. No opening any of them without a crowbar. He looked up and spotted another door, leading further into the house. “We’re already off the beaten path, wanna see if there are any cool secrets off the grid.” May smiled, and the two approached the door. -------------------------------------------- “... I’m sorry,” Lily quietly intoned as she walked beside Leroy. “What for?” “I just, I know you really wanted to see this place, and I’m sorry I couldn’t handle it.” “Silly thing for you to be sorry about,” He looked at her apologetically, “I know these places freak you out, and I keep dragging you to them anyway. I’m sorry.” “Well, at least we made a good call on my, uh, you-know-whats,” Lily put a hand on her hip, feeling the waistband of her diaper. “You see those two back there?” He said with a smile, “Before we get outta here, they’re gonna be wishing they’d worn some, too.” They both laughed at that. Despite lacking in any of the thematic decorations, the upstairs was no less unsettling. Old and rotted wood, covered windows, and boarded up doors were all there was to see. That, and some helpful signage leading them to the bathroom. Once they reached it, they discovered a large, spacious restroom, perfect for changing. “Um, I hate to ask, but… Do you think you could gimme a hand real quick?” She blushed as she asked. “No prob.” She had no idea how she managed to find a boyfriend who didn’t raise any objections when his girlfriend asked for help changing her wet diaper. They stepped inside, and a terrible odor greeted them. Both of them coughed lightly. “Guess we weren’t the first ones to find the bathroom, huh?” Leroy suggested. But Lily felt a growing sense of unease. Looking around them, the whole bathroom was filthy. And not bathroom-filthy, but grime and unidentifiable substance filthy. The little white tiles had what she forgivingly called dirt caked between them. The mirror was cracked severely. She hazarded a look at the toilet, and saw that it was overflowing with a rust colored liquid. “Um, Leroy? I don’t really feel… comfortable in here. Maybe the hosts outside know a better bathroom?” One look at his face told her that he felt the same way, “Yeah, let’s go find a nicer bathroom.” Exiting the bathroom and reentering the hallway, something didn’t quite seem right. After a second, Lily realized that the sounds of the various haunted house attractions were absent. The muffled partying outside had gone silent. Now, only the pitter-patter of rain and the distant rumble of thunder could be heard. “Does it, uh, seem quiet to you?” She asked. “Sounds like rain. Guess the party people packed up.” “Y-yeah. Yeah, I guess so.” She walked closer beside him. They rounded a corner, returning to a longer stretch of the hallway. Lily’s heart nearly stopped when she spotted the figure at the end of the hall. It was an extremely tall woman in a white dress. She looked as though she’d been stretched to nearly cartoonish proportions. She was turned away from them, but Lily could see how pale her skin was. Something in her brain finally clicked; Okay, it said, Those other things were fake. I get that now. But that is real. It didn’t matter how good your costume was, you couldn’t pull off a look like that. Lily covered her mouth to suppress her scream. Wetness and warmth again flooded her diaper as her fear robbed her of her bodily control. The rest of the liquid her bladder had to offer streamed out of her, and she felt the urine soaking into every inch of the diaper’s fabric. Leroy clearly had the same thought, about this thing being the real deal. He quickly pulled her back, putting himself between the creature and her. Taking a very quick stock of their surroundings, he noticed a door that had once been boarded up, but now was open. As quietly as possible, he opened it and ushered her inside. He pushed the door to a silent close, and then scouted out the room they took shelter in. It was only lightly furnished, and left no hiding places for more… things. Lily’s whole body felt stiff, and she realized that she’d clamped her hands over her mouth, and had never released it. Tears stained her cheeks, and her diaper was sagging with urine. “W-w-what was t-that?” She asked through terrified sobs. When Leroy drew near, she quickly embraced him, holding on to try and stop her shaking. “I… I dunno. Trick of the light, maybe.” “No, that, that was… ” She tried to continue, but she really didn’t know what to say. She had no idea what it was. Somewhat forceful footsteps reverberated down the hall, growing fainter. The tall woman was leaving. “Hear that?” Leroy said in a hushed voice, “She left, okay? We’ll just catch our breath here for a sec, and we’ll beeline for the exit. All right, Lily?” “... All right,” she said. -------------------------------------------- Emile gagged slightly when they entered the next room. A musty, rotty smell greeted them in a room with a few more crates, and a large cabinet. “Whoa-ho, you think this is the room where they toss all the pants this place made people shit in?” Emile said, covering his mouth and nose with his sleeve. “Oh fuck… ” Was all May said when she caught a whiff of it. They ventured into the room, and looked around. This room definitely wasn’t part of the experience, but it really could have been. The wallpaper was old and peeling, the room was dark, the floor had odd stains. Walking by the large cabinet, Emile noticed some writing on the wall. In big, bold letters was written: “JUST HIDE. DON’T TRY AND FIGHT LIKE HIM.” ‘Like him’? Emile thought, confused, when a shrill scream almost made him jump out of his skin. Her turned around and saw May stumbling away from something on the ground, looking woozy. He walked around a small stack of crates to look, and nearly threw up when he saw what appeared to be the ruin of a human body on the ground. There was no mistaking it, either, it was real. It had been largely torn to shreds, most of the appendages and the head missing. The torso looked as though an animal had been feeding on it. “What the fuck? What the fuck?” May was clearly suppressing the urge to vomit, too. May continued to panic over the remains when Emile heard the steady thump, thump, thump of approaching footsteps. They were heavy, certainly not Leroy or Lily. Reflexively, he looked back to the graffiti, which urged him to hide. He had to say, hiding sounded like a plan. “May!” He hissed loudly, yet quietly, “May!!” It took her a second to realize he was talking, but when she did, she seemed to notice the footsteps, too. She looked fearfully at the door, then back at Emile. With no other recourse, Emile opened the doors to the large cabinet, and gestured for her to follow him inside. She hurried over, and the two squeezed into the tight space. It was large enough for them to stand, although it was cramped. The door could not be fully closed with both of them inside, leaving a small gap down the length of the doors for them to see through. Emile could feel his hands shaking, his heart pounding in his ears. Someone, inhumanly tall, wandered passed the cabinet, moving with purpose. It searched around, behind the boxes, and in the corners of the room. They heard us! He realized, The killer knows we were here! As the thing approached the cabinet, Emile could see through the gap that it wasn’t simply some killer. It wasn’t even human. The thing’s face was pale gray, and lacked a few features. It had no nose, and its eyes, disproportionately large for its face, were snow white. As it walked towards the cabinet, the final unchecked hiding place in the room, Emile became aware of the warmth spreading in his pants. For a second, he tore his eyes from the tall woman, and looked down, at his groin. A wet stain grew a steady pace, travelling down his thighs. He was utterly powerless to stop his bladder from emptying. He felt the hot urine reach his ankles, and flood into his shoes. The monster stood just in front of the cabinet, and suddenly turned around, its attention shifted to the body on the ground. It crouched low, and began to devour the torso. May and Emile both sighed in relief, the latter still pissing into his pants. It was dark and difficult to see, but he knew by the creeping dampness that his jeans were waterlogged. He looked to May, and noticed with shame that she was looking at his groin, watching the show unfold. The tall woman continued to eat the body, and it seemed as though the two of them would be stuck there for some time, when May began to move her arms frantically. He followed her gesticulations, and saw with dread what she had realized. The puddle that was steadily growing around his feet was still spreading, and had nearly reached the doors. It would leak out, splash to the floor, and alert the monster. Emile grabbed himself with both hands, stopping the flow of his piss with all his might, but it was too late. The puddle would inevitably grow too large and spill out. Watching the puddle that would be their death continue to spread, the rest of his courage drained out from between his legs despite his best efforts, renewing the warmth that begun to grow cold. But then, miraculously, the clang of something metal falling over caught the monster’s attention. With great haste, it ceased eating, stood, and strode from the room. Only seconds later, Emile’s puddle began noisily dripping from the cabinet to the floor below. They stayed in the cramped cabinet for minutes that felt like hours, wondering if it was safe, and trying to ignore the stinging smell of urine. Eventually, both of them looked at each other, and nodded. Very slowly, they pushed open the doors of the cabinet, and stepped outside. “We have to get the fuck out of here,” Emile said. “With gusto,” May replied. He appreciated her not commenting on his wet pants. She took a still wobbly step towards him, and then wrapped her arms around him, muttering “holy shit, dude.” He reciprocated the hug, since he needed the comfort just as much as she did. -------------------------------------------- Back in the foyer, Lily and Leroy hesitantly walked down the steps. Their footsteps seemed deafening in the silence. Leroy cautiously scanned the area for any signs of danger, while Lily frantically looked around, nearly jumping at every shadow. They wasted no time getting to the front door. Click. It was locked. “Ah, come on!” Leroy muttered as he pushed and pulled on the large wooden doors, but the locks held firm. “Piece of shit!” He growled as he rammed his shoulder into the door. The resultant sound made both of them freeze in place, listening for footsteps. They heard none. “What we gonna do?” Was all Lily could think to ask. “Gimme a sec,” Leroy answered, deep in thought. “Uh, hey, Leroy?” Lily called out when she noticed the note left on the wall. A series of arrows had been painted along the walls and floor, directing one’s eyes towards the note. He wandered over, and the two of them examined the slightly yellowed piece of paper. If you’re reading this, then I’m sorry to say that you’re in a very great deal of danger. You may have already seen that ghostly thing- the tall woman. If you’ve seen her, you likely already know that she’s determined to kill you. I’ve been trapped in here for some days, and I’ve determined that the tall woman cannot read. Indeed, she doesn’t seem to be much more than an animal. I’ve left this note to outline your situation, in the hopes that someone might someday escape this place. Wherever we are, it’s not the normal world. No one else is here aside from the people who get pulled in here, somehow. Don’t bother with the door, either. It’s locked, but that doesn’t even matter. I’ve escaped through a gap in the fence in the backyard, but there’s nothing outside. Wandering through the woods will simply return you to the house. Don’t have much more time to write, so I’ll be brief: Make no attempt to fight the tall woman. Another survivor was here with me, and I watched the creature rip him apart like he was made of paper. There is something else, an entity of some kind that sustains this place. If I were to guess, it is situated near or in the well in the backyard, since the tall woman has attacked me whenever I venture too near to it. I do believe the only hope of escape is to destroy this entity in the well. Fortunately, the tall woman’s zealous guardianship of its hiding place leads me to believe that the entity is vulnerable. If you can elude her, make your way to the well, and try to end this. That is where I am headed, now. If you’re reading this, then I did not succeed, and I’m sorry. “This has to be a nightmare… ” Lily intoned, almost inaudibly, “I got so scared I passed out, and I’m just dreaming all of this.” “Calm down, Lil,” Leroy’s stoicism gave way to sympathy. “Any second now, I’ll wake up, and Emile and May will make some jokes, and we’ll laugh.” “Lily,” He said, a bit more sternly. Tears flowed down her cheeks once again, “I don’t wanna die here, Leroy!” “You think I’m gonna let you die here?” He grabbed her hands and squeezed them tightly, “We’re getting out of here, and we’re gonna kick that monster’s ass.” He always spoke with a kind of certainty and conviction; even with the hopelessness of their situation, she kind of believed him. “Okay… Okay,” She squeezed his hands back, “I trust you.” A muffled scream resounded through the walls, and both of them went rigid and quiet. A door creaked open somewhere, and hurried footsteps presaged the arrival of the tall woman, like a bird to a worm. Someone was in danger. Wishing to get out of sight immediately, Leroy and Lily hurried away, running anywhere that wasn’t there. --------------- Passing through a series of doors and halls, they found themselves in a foul kitchen. Pots, pans, and silverware littered the floors and countertops, most of them covered in rust, or stained with something disgusting. “I think we’re good, I think we’re good,” Leroy said. He opened up one of the drawers, and scowled when it only contained old rags, “Help me look for… something sharp. Anything that could be a weapon.” “Okay,” Lily began searching through the drawers, but the ones that weren’t empty were full of trash. Leroy opened the cabinets, hoping to find a heavy pan, a knife, a cleaver; honestly he would’ve settled for a rolling pin. He reached the end of the row, and yanked open the last of the cabinets. He was met with an avalanche of kitchenware. “Shit, shit, shit!” He yelled, spreading his arms out to catch the metal items before they crashed to the ground. He held back some of the avalanche, but too much fell passed his arms, and hit the ground with what felt like the sound of an atom bomb. He spun around, much too frantically, and saw the terrified face of Lily. They both knew that she would be there, and soon. “Uhh, uuuhhhhh… ” His mind raced, trying hard to think of a solution. “There!” He exclaimed, rushing over the cabinets under the kitchen sink. “What?” Lily asked, hurrying over to him. “Get in!” He opened the doors. “What about you?” The space was much too small for him to squeeze into. “I’ll find a spot, just get in, Lil!” He hissed at her. She seemed indecisive for a second, but then crawled inside. “Wait here until the coast is clear, okay?” She nodded. He closed the doors, completing her hiding spot. But now he had no idea what to do with himself. He didn’t see any hiding spots that could actually hold him. He spotted his only hope on the ground, among the pile of things that had spilled out from the cabinet: the handle of a large knife. Out of options, he lifted the weapon, and held it in front of him. He had to hope that the tall woman wasn’t as invincible as the note made her seem. Footsteps. The door would swing open in only a few seconds. He took a deep breath, he steadied his shaking hand. He tried to mentally calculate his swings while he had the chance. The footsteps grew louder and louder. His breathing quickened, and the door finally swung open. When he saw her disturbing, inhuman face, his confidence wavered. She approached him, her full, tremendous height making his knife seem absolutely tiny, certainly too impotent to kill her. She lunged forward, swiping her hand. He dodged to the right as nimbly as his fear would allow, but still her nails raked across his left shoulder. They cut straight though his shirt and jacket, and bit into his flesh. The wounds wept blood, saturating his sleeves. He returned the favor, driving the blade into her torso, just under where he guessed her ribs were. The knife stuck into her, but the wound did not seem to bleed, nor did the tall woman seem particularly fazed by it. He twisted the knife, but she simply drove her fist into his stomach, flinging him over the table in the center of the kitchen. His legs felt weak, and he couldn’t seem to stand. In the back of his mind, he was cognizant of a sensation in his pants, at his rear. He was pretty sure he pooped a little when she punched him. She advanced slowly towards him, savoring in the kill. He ached, and by the time he had started to lift himself back up, she stood directly in front of him. He fell backwards, onto his tailbone, and scrambled back as fast as he could. His back slammed into the wall, and he knew that he was cornered. The tall woman continued her advance. She gripped the knife, and casually ripped it from her flesh, dropping it to the floor. The display of her unholy endurance broke him. Fear strangled his heart, and he felt tears burning his eyes. Weakened by the earlier blow, his bowels failed him, and released themselves into his underpants. A fairly solid mess tented his tight pants, and spread across his rear. The wet crackling was loud enough for him to notice, despite his terror. He had never soiled himself, never had an accident of any kind since he was a toddler. The tall woman seemed to relish his fear. She had slowed her pace, and had not broken eye contact with him. It didn’t notice when the cabinet behind it opened, revealing Lily. Leroy’s breath caught in his throat. What are you doing?! He screamed in his head. The tall woman followed his gaze, and turned around just in time for Lily to jump and smash a glass jar against her face. It recoiled at this, and grabbed its face in pain. No, he noticed, it specifically was trying to get the glass out of its eyes. The rest didn’t seem to bother her. Looking pale as a ghost and horrified out of her mind, Lily sidestepped the tall woman and grabbed Leroy’s arm. With all her might, she hoisted him up. Doing her best to support him and keep him steady, the two of them sped away from the kitchen. They heard the sounds of splintering wood and crushed metal behind them. -------------------------------------------- Right as May and Emile had reached the door and discovered it was locked, the sounds of violent rampage erupted from nearby. They fled to a nearby staircase that led down to the basement. May was taking the steps two at a time. Emile waddled behind her, not enjoying the sensation of his wet pants, evidently. They reached the bottom, but couldn’t see anything- the basement was pitch black. Fumbling around the walls, May soon found a light switch. She mentally thanked the renovators of this place. Flipping it on, the basement was actually less terrible than she was prepared for. She was prepared for blood, bodies, evil symbols on the walls; but instead it was… just a basement. “Whoa!” she exclaimed in shock when her eyes came upon a humanoid figure in the room. It dawned on her that she viewing her own reflection, and that an entire wall of the basement was inexplicably taken up by a mirror. When the shock wore off, she felt a droplet of urine run down her thigh. Inspecting her shorts, she saw they now had a small, wet stain just between her legs. “What? You okay?” Emile asked, looking over at her. “Yeah, just… Mirror scared me.” “Looks like it,” He said, smirking when he noticed the wet spot on her pants. “Hey, you’re one to talk. Your pee almost got us killed.” “It was a calculated move,” He said with his silly smile, “It’s gonna smell my pants and decide to eat you first, giving me time to run away.” “So it was all part of the plan?” “You bet. Now don’t piss yourself, you’ll ruin the plan,” He pointed to some old boxes, “Go crouch and pee over there or something.” “Fine, just stay over there,” She headed for the boxes, since she did need to pee. “You may find this hard to believe, but I actually don’t want to watch you take a leak,” Emile said as he occupied himself with looting the containers around them. May had to walk by the mirror-wall as she approached the boxes. She knew that in horror movies you should never look in the mirror, but she was just confused by its presence. Who puts a mirror in the basement? More importantly, who turns an entire wall into a mirror? That was weird. One of the boxes, the one against the wall, was pushed slightly back, creating a small alcove of privacy. With the mirror-wall in front of her, she’d get a first class seat to watch the show. She leaned a little, to use the mirror to peak at Emile and make sure he was minding his own business. Satisfied that he was, she unbuttoned and unzipped her shorts. Just as she began to crouch and lower her clothes, she noticed a third shape in the mirror. It was a man. Dressed simply, like a farmer, maybe. His face was stretched into a rictus grin, and he stared at the empty center of the room. He carried a bloody axe in one hand. May fell on her butt, peeing forcefully into her shorts. The hissing was loud and a puddle quickly formed underneath her. Her urine washed over her butt, and wet the backs of her thighs. She must have made a noise of some kind, because Emile worriedly asked if she was ok. When she didn’t answer, he rushed over. He peered over the boxes, and was greeted with the dignified sight of her with her fly down and sitting in an expanding pool of piss. “What, did you slip?” He asked, suppressing a laugh. “Emile!” She whispered, while she clamped her legs shut to stop the flow, “Mirror!” He quickly picked up that was serious, and turned around. “What about it?” “You didn’t see that?!” “Something in the mirror? No I didn’t.” Had they not seen a monster just a short while ago, he might’ve been more hesitant to believe her, “What did you see?” “A- A man. With an axe. Didn’t look like he was cutting wood with it.” Emile was perturbed by this information. He scanned the room once again, but apparently saw nothing. “Wonderful… more shit trying to kill us.” He looked at her awkwardly, “So uh, we should probably get goin’,” May blushed and looked away, “... ‘m not finished… ” “Huh?” “Not done peeing.” “Er, well, just go!” He urged her. This time he did not give her much privacy, and stood guard right next to the boxes. It didn’t matter much, there wasn’t any point to not just finishing up in her shorts. With only a slight push, her stream picked back up, returning its wet warmth to her crotch. The puddle grew a little more, and the fresh urine reheated it. After the longest and most awkward few seconds of her life, she was done wetting herself. “... ‘kay,” Was all she said as she stood and zipped up her shorts. Urine dripped from her soaked butt, and cold drops raced down her legs. She stood, and joined Emile on the other side of the boxes. “Look on the bright side,” Emile said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “What fucking bright side?” “Now we match!” He pointed one hand at his urine-stained pants and the other at hers. “Shut up,” May replied, but she couldn’t suppress her smile. But that smile faded when she noticed the writing on the wall next to the stairs- writing that didn’t appear in the mirror’s reflection: THEY’RE IN THE MIRRORS! DON’T LOOK AT THEM! The last bit of urine she didn’t know was left in her suddenly found a new home in her panties. -------------------------------------------- Leroy was limping through the halls. Lily did her best to keep him moving, but he eventually had to stop. He clutched his stomach in pain. He nearly keeled over, and it was then that Lily heard a distinct crackling sound. She could tell then that Leroy had had an accident. “I’m sorry,” his voice was raspy from having the wind (among other things) knocked out of him. “Don’t be.” “It punched me, and then I thought, uh… Thought I was done for. It just kinda came out,” From her position at his side, she could see a growing bulge in the seat of his tight pants. “It got me good, too, now I can’t stop.” “I won’t tell a soul, promise!” Lily gave him a reassuring look. Then she blushed, and added, “You’re actually not alone,” She turned and lifted her skirt, giving him a view of her sagging diaper. The front was yellowed and drenched, and the back was brown and bulging. From the moment she heard the fighting begin, to the moment they ran away, she had been voiding her bowels on herself. When she actually faced the tall woman and attacked her, she knew was when she did the bulk of the soiling. In the few seconds it took for her to register that she wasn’t dead, she positively loaded the thing. Now her diaper was so wet and so full she was worried it was going to fall off of her. “Heh, guess I’m not. ‘Least your underwear was made to be crapped in, though,” He winced in pain, one arm gripping his stomach, the other his shoulder. For the first time, she noticed how badly his shoulder was hurt. “Come on, just a little farther, sweetie. Let’s find a room and see what we can do,” She guided him into a nearby room- once a bedroom. She led him to a soft-looking bed, “Lie down, Leroy,” she ordered, and he did so without complaint, even though she knew his mess made the effort more disgusting than it should have been. She removed his shirt and jacket, and cringed when she saw the massive purple bruise on his belly, and the deep gashes on his shoulder. She lifted the blanket on the bed, exposing the sheets. She struggled with them, attempting to rip them. When she succeeded, she wrapped the cloth around his shoulder, and bound it tightly. Blood quickly soaked into it, but it was the best they had. “How’s it look?” She thought on how best to answer him, “... Like you’ll have a cool scar.” “Awesome,” He sat up, scrunching his face when he felt his mess squishing underneath him. He threw his shirt and jacket back on, and stood. When he felt he could walk, they left the room. They returned to the foyer, making sure the tall woman was nowhere in sight. When they were certain it was safe, they advanced. Crossing by the stairs, the two of them caught sight of something and jumped backwards, Lily muffling a scream with her hands. Some familiar expletives caught her attention, and she saw that they’d bumped into Emile and May, who were equally startled. They had also both peed their pants. “Emile? May?” Lily said, utterly relieved. “Oh shit, you guys are alive!” May called out. The four of them came together with a brief hug. “Man, is it good to see you two,” Emile said. “Less great to smell you, what is that?” May added, kind of ruining the moment. The both of them looked at Lily, both clearly suspecting that she’d messed herself, when Leroy chimed in, “Don’t laugh, but that’s me.” “I don’t buy it,” Emile, narrowing his eyes at them. “No, for real,” He lifted his shirt, revealing the giant bruise, “that monster got me in the gut, made me shit myself.” Both their eyes widened, “You fought that thing?!” Emile asked in disbelief. “Good shit, man. Emmy wet his pants just from seeing it.” “At least I didn’t get scared by my own reflection.” “Guys,” Lily interjected, they stopped talking, “Leroy and I found an old note, and we have an idea how to get out of here.” “You do?” Emile asked, excited. “Yes sir,” Leroy picked up the explanation, “The thing that’s causing all of this apparently at the bottom of a well out back. We have to go find it and kill or break it.” “Sure.” “Okay.” They spoke almost in perfect unison, both readily accepting what Leroy said. “Well, uh, all right. Guess I should’ve known you guys wouldn’t ask any questions. Let’s go.” As they walked, Leroy lead the group, despite his injuries and relatively slow pace. Emile sidled up next to Lily, and spoke, “Don’t take this personally, but I refuse to believe you haven’t had an accident, too.” “Uhh, I went before we came in. Kinda for that exact reason.” He squinted at her, but seemed to accept the answer. The door to the backyard didn’t take too long to find. It opened out to a large patio with some old furniture strewn across it. The rain had subsided, but everything was still wet and dripping. The backyard was very large, and bore a few sheds, a pagoda, and a large well near the center. Lily could understand why the author of the note felt that the entity was in there; just looking at it filled her with dread. “The note we found mentioned that the tall woman knows if you get too close to the well, so stay away from it until we’re ready,” Leroy explained. “You got it,” Emile answered. “Sure, but slight problem,” May pointed to the well, “It’s boarded up.” Lily and Leroy turned to look at it, and sure enough, the top of the well was blocked off. Leroy groaned in mounting frustration, “Okay, so, we improvise! You two,” He pointed to May and Emile, “Hit up that shed, look for anything that might be able to break through. And rope, to climb down. Lily I will check out that shed.” She wasn’t eager to split up again, after they’d just reunited, but at least they wouldn’t be far apart. -------------------------------------------- May couldn’t get the image of the man with the bloody axe out of her head. She knew she didn’t imagine it. She knew it was trouble. As she and Emile slowly pulled open the door of the shed, she drew her taser, ready to stun anything inside. Much to her horror, one of the walls of the shed had also been fitted with a large mirror. “The fuck is up with the mirrors?” She inquired, unable to keep the fear out of her voice. “No idea, but check it out,” Emile walked passed her, and picked up something from an open box, “Rope! Halfway there already!” “Nice. See what else we got in here. A machete or, like… a gun would be cool.” The two of them set about looting the shed. Lots of useless tools filled the various boxes toolkits, things like screwdrivers and pliers. Nothing for breaking and smashing. May shoved a box over, and looked quizzically at the etching on the ground it had covered up. It looked like a circle with a symbol inside of it. Great, there’s the evil runes. There were more, resting underneath the various containers and detritus. She moved them, shoving them wherever they would fit so she could see what someone carved into the floor. Several of the runes had been tampered with, though. They were struck with something in order to damage them, or crossed out with additional carving. Words had been written atop the defaced runes: THEY BROUGHT THEM HERE, THROUGH THE MIRRORS DON’T LOOK As chilling as the message was, she was feeling quite vindicated. “Holy crap, May, look out!!” Emile shouted. May jumped to her feet in alarm. She had a feeling she knew where their attacker was coming from. Looking at the mirror, she saw that same man, with his same axe marching towards them. He dragged his weapon along the ground behind him. His face, still paralyzed in a grotesque smile, almost made her pass out. Her bowels immediately emptied, and with a loud burst of sound, she filled her panties. Wet mush erupted out of her, and created a bulge the size of an orange in her green shorts. She stumbled backwards, bumping into Emile. The two of them both fell down. May’s already wet and now messy backside landed squarely on Emile’s lap. The soft, semi-solid mass in her underwear spread across her rear, flattening out. She knew Emile had felt it, too. The man swung his axe while they both were trying to get away, and the blade landed between their legs, burying itself into the ground only inches away from Emile’s crotch. If he hadn’t already wet himself, she was sure he would’ve then. They tried to pry themselves off of each other, but their frantic and fearful movements just kept getting them stuck further in the mess of limbs and shed debris. The man pulled back, nearly freeing the axe from the ground. In a rare moment of brilliance, Emile brought his legs together, enclosing them around the axe. As the man pulled, Emile pulled back, not relinquishing the weapon. Taking the opportunity she’d been given, May shot forward with her taser. She had no idea if tasers even worked on evil spirits, but she had to try something. She drove the buzzing device into the smiling man’s neck. To her pleasant surprise, he stopped trying to retrieve his axe, and twitched as the electricity did its magic. After several seconds of tazing, the man seemed to dissolve into a sort of black mist. His axe disappeared as well. She supposed that was a victory, probably. She kept her head low, not daring to look into the mirror. The two of them grabbed the rope they would need, and slammed the doors of the shed behind them. Both of them were sweating and panting. “I… I definitely shat myself… ” May said between gasps for breath. “I know… I noticed… ” Emile said, confirming her earlier fear. May reached back and felt the severity of her accident. Her butt was separated from her panties by a layer of mess at least half an inch thick. Drooping down between her legs was a more substantial bulge. Her panties were blue, and she dreaded to think what color they had become. Looking over, she noticed Emile feeling his own bottom. He groaned after a second, clearly dissatisfied with his findings. “You, too?” “A guy almost cleaved my dick in half with an axe. Of course I crapped myself,” He picked up the rope, and half-walked, half-waddled forward, “Let’s go find the others and get this over with.” The back of his jeans bore a large brown stain. It looked like he unloaded quite a bit more than she did, and his mess hadn’t been flattened nearly as much. Consequently, he had a massive, rounded bulge on his butt that was tinged brown. The discoloration streaked a short ways down the backs of his legs, indicating his release was rather wet. Thus far, Emile had most certainly won the gold for accident size. Her own was considerable, but not enormous. She’d taken a look at Leroy’s earlier, and it definitely didn’t compare. She also waddled slightly, but nowhere near as much as Emile had to. -------------------------------------------- “Thanks for covering for me,” Lily said, as she and Leroy searched their shed. “Hm? Oh, about the smell thing? No worries. Technically wasn’t even lying.” “Still, it was nice.” “No it wasn’t. Totally selfish,” He said sarcastically, “I just wanna watch them freak out when they think you’re the only one who didn’t ruin their pants.” They both laughed. They searched in silence for a second more, when Lily asked “What do you think it is, in the well? Another monster?” “Dunno. Guess I’m with the note guy; the tall freak wouldn’t come to defend the well if whatever’s inside could defend itself.” “That’s fair.” She rooted through a container, finding nothing of use. “Leroy, I just… Thanks. If we do manage to get out of this, it’ll be because of you.” “Says the woman who glassed the monster right before it could kill me.” “And who pooped herself doing it!” She laughed, and Leroy chuckled. Her face darkened a little when she continued onto the next thing she needed to say, “And I just wanted to say… If we… If we don’t make it-” “Which we will.” “But if anything goes wrong, I just wanted to say that I love you.” “... I love you, too,” He stopped searching for a second to face her, “And I’ll be saying that to you again, in like, an hour; after we’ve escaped this place.” He returned to searching, and her eyes drifted down to his butt. On any other day, it was a fine butt to look at, but today… Today there was a particular lump there that she didn’t care to observe. She didn’t blame or judge him one bit, though. How could she? She was not only wearing a diaper, but had used it so heavily that she had to frequently pull it back to keep it from falling off of her. Each time she did so, the cold, wet fabric pressed against her womanhood, and her mess once again squished against her rear. It would take a hundred showers before she felt clean again. “Jackpot!” Leroy shouted, as he hefted up a sledgehammer. “That could do the trick.” -------------------------------------------- The four of them had reconvened a short distance from the well. In total, they’d found the rope and sledgehammer they needed, and had scrounged up a small hatchet pocket knife. In addition to May’s taser, that meant one weapon for everyone. Leroy and Lily had also been polite and not commented on May and Emile’s waddling gaits, or the foul smell that followed them. The plan was simple enough, but one mistake could cost all of their lives. All they had to do was smash apart the boards on top of the well, tie the rope to the post above it, and rappel down. At the bottom, well, they would improvise, as Leroy put it. Anything could have been down there waiting for them. Maybe it only wanted them to think it was vulnerable. Maybe it was just… a well. Nothing but water at the bottom. Everyone prepared themselves, readied their weapons, and said their prayers. “Ready, Emmy?” Leroy asked. Emile picked up the long length of rope and nodded. Lily and May took up spots on either side of the well, keeping a lookout for the tall woman. “Go!” In a flash of movement, the guys sprinted forward. Leroy hefted the hammer over his head, and brought it down with all his might upon the boards covering up the well. The head of the hammer smashed clean through them, creating a hammer-sized hole. As quickly as he could, he lifted it, and smashed once again. Striving to avoid Leroy’s swings, Emile set about tying the rope to the post above the well. He knotted, he double-knotted, he triple-knotted. The knot wouldn’t break on his watch. Lily and May were on alert, watching. They both saw the shadow moving passed the windows, the frightening figure of the tall woman. She knew they were attacking the well. She would be there in mere seconds. May’s paranoia of the mirror in the shed endured she kept an eye on it, too. Emile put as much stress on the rope as he could, and neither it nor the post gave way. Their ride down the well was ready. Just in time, too, as Leroy destroyed the final board covering the well, causing its many splintered fragments to descend into the dark pit. “Everyone in!!” He screamed. Emile went first, hatchet on his belt, ready to be drawn in case something was waiting for him below. The ladies ran for the well. Lily grabbed the rope, the makeshift gloves they’d made for everyone protecting them from rope burn. Once she’d gone, May turned to see Leroy standing guard, sledgehammer ready. “See you at the bottom, Lee,” She jumped in, grabbing the rope. The door to the backyard flew off its hinges. The tall woman, who normally moved at a steady stride, now charged at him as fast as it could. It would kill him if he tried to fight it. Once he had waited long enough for May to finish her descent, he turned and began his. Falling down a dark hole into the unknown brought him considerably less fear than being alone with the tall woman. He slid down the rope for some time, far more than he expected. When he finally reached the bottom, he and the others all stood stunned for a moment. At the base of the well was a spacious cavern. Mirrors were embedded in the wall every few feet. At the center of the cavern was a disfigured tree-like growth. Roots branched like veins into the earth above and below it. At the center of the growth, an eerie blue light emanated. There was a crash behind them, and the tall woman landed in the cavern. It hadn’t taken the rope, simply jumped. Once again, the thing’s frightening inhuman nature shook Leroy to his core. Wetness flooded his groin, racing down his legs. He lifted the hammer, preparing to fight, even as piss stung his thighs. May primed her taser, hoping it would work as well on her as it did on the smiling man. The tall woman rushed towards them. Leroy felt his stream of urine grow stronger. It targeted him, and pounced. He had learned to swallow his fear and dodge early after the last attack, and managed to roll out of the way without getting hit. The irregular movement diverted his stream, causing the stain soak the upper areas of his pants more than it should have. It also flung droplets everywhere. His hammer was heavy, and he couldn’t swing it at her before she could swing at him. He backstepped, dodging another feral swipe. He lifted the hammer over his head, brought it down. She grabbed it mid-swing, stopping all his momentum as if it were nothing. He stared in disbelief, and May took the opportunity to rush the tall woman, and tazed her in the back. Meanwhile, Emile and Lily set to work using their hatchet and knife to cut open the strange growth. From one of the mirrors on the wall, Emile saw the smiling man emerge. “Oh come on, fuck off already!” He shouted. Lily screamed when she saw him, having no idea who or what he was. “Lily! Trade!” He plucked the knife from her hands, and gave her the hatchet, “Keep cutting this thing, I’ll keep him busy!” She didn’t have time to object before he ran off to engage the smiling man. The man swung the axe horizontally with unexpected speed, nearly taking Emile’s head off. Unlike the tall woman, he never seemed to move very quickly. Emile danced around him, keeping just out of range of the axe. That is, until the smiling man swung, Emile dodged, and then the man used the new position of his axe to drive the handle into Emile’s face. He yelled in pain and took several dazed, wobbly steps back. May was dismayed to learn that the tall woman was worlds more durable than the smiling man. In only a couple of seconds, she overcame the taser’s shock. She turned quickly, and lashed out, striking May in the side of the head. The attack sent her flying, and she slammed into the cavern’s wall. She found that she did not have the strength to stand back up. At long last, Leroy was able to land a blow with his hammer. The weapon impacted the tall woman in the back, making a sound as though it had hit concrete. She was knocked forward only slightly, and turned to retaliate against him. He could hardly believe it. An attack with every last ounce of his strength didn’t even scratch her. He was completely powerless against her. He had one last idea. He swung the hammer, and she once again grabbed it. When her hand was occupied, he released the hammer, and bent low to scoop up some of the loose gravel along the floor. Remembering how much pain she suffered when Lily hit her in the eyes, he threw the handful of rocks into her face. As he hoped, some of them struck her eyes. Like before, it recoiled in shock and agony. He used the time as an opportunity to make sure May was all right. Lily had continued to use Emile’s hatchet, and had carved away much of the wood. She found something strange inside. At the center of the growth was something like an orb. A perfectly spherical mirror, she realized. She hacked more of the wood away, revealing more of what she hoped was their ultimate target. Emile was losing ground quickly to the smiling man. He dared to steal a look at Lily’s progress, and saw the strange orb. It gave him an idea. May couldn’t move, and Leroy was out of weapons. The tall woman approached him, claws bared. All he could do at this point was give her enough trouble killing him to buy the others enough time. Lily had exposed much of the orb when Emile shoved her out of the way. She didn’t know what he was doing, but he leaned against the growth and the orb, blocking them with his body. The smiling man prepared the killing swing, only for Emile to jump forward and dive under the man’s legs at the last second. The smiling man’s axe shattered the mirrored ball. The tall woman froze suddenly, then began writhing in pain. The root tendrils receded, began to die. The mirrors all cracked, then shattered. The tall woman collapsed, spasming as though she was suffering a seizure. The roots died and died, until the growth was nearly gone. The smiling man’s smile melted away, replaced by a look of horror. When the last of the unholy tree had perished, a blinding light engulfed all of them. -------------------------------------------- They came to in the woods, just a short distance from the house. Morning light was shining through the trees. “Did… Did we do it?” May asked. “I think we made it!” Emile could hardly contain his joy. “Let’s not celebrate just yet,” Leroy cautioned. He took several steps toward the house. The others followed. Emile and May laughed with sheer joy when they all saw people entering and leaving the house, packing up all the decorations and set pieces. “We fuckin’ did it!” Emile cheered. “And we still need clean pants… ” May observed, killing Emile’s happiness a bit. “Oh, by the way, Lily… ” Leroy began, walking towards her. “What is it?” He scooped her up in a tight hug, lifting her off the ground, “Love you, and I told you so,” he said. “Anyway, can we please get out of here; y’know, before some sees or smells us?” “I think that’s a good idea,” Lily agreed. “Dibs on the first shower,” May proclaimed. The argument that ensued was not a pretty one.
  9. So this is just a short little one-off I've been thinking of for a long time, and finally decided to sit down and write. Since I have other stories like this one, I figured I'd lump them together in a big thread. Whenever I have some random one-off idea, odds are it'll go here. Hope you enjoy! With a stretch and a yawn, Lina Altor rose from bed. Her back cracked, she yawned again, and with all the enthusiasm of a snail in a race, set about doing her morning stretches. A big part of her morning routine was also to (begrudgingly) do a set of push-ups and sit-ups, but one look at the inn’s dirty, stained floors was all the persuasion she needed not to. She was certain she’d happened upon the most seedy, vile inn in town. Lina was also confident she was the only person to have spent the night there that didn’t take a companion into their bedroom, if the shouts, moans, and floors creaking was any indication. It was still pretty early, much earlier than she normally awoke; but she was determined to leave this place and find a more… moral place to stay while she took up contracts in the Longmarch. Since she wouldn’t be coming back, she went ahead and put on her armor, since it was difficult to carry otherwise. Dark brown trousers covered her white underwear, and a green tunic covered her chest and arms. Over this went a simple iron breastplate; some small iron shoulderpads; leather gloves with iron plating; and some iron vambraces. All of this covered her dark, tanned skin and lean muscle. Lina knew that many female adventurers and mercenaries were fond of wearing more revealing clothing, or at least shaping their armor to emphasize their more feminine traits, but Lina’s armor was as simple and practical as armor came. Stopping by the mirror briefly to ensure that her long, wavy hair was not a mess, and that she was otherwise presentable, Lina left disgusting inn, feeling like she was holier woman just for stepping away from it. She was eager to spend her time in the more reputable areas of the town. ---------- Nevermind, they’re all crooks, Lina fumed inside her head, Thirteen silvers for breakfast?! Dejectedly, Lina opened up her coin pouch, the somber jingle of the scant few coins inside more than enough indication that it was outside her price range. “Short on coin, lass?” the tavernkeep asked, having also heard the sounds of poverty coming from her coin pouch. “Afraid so… ” She pulled out whatever she had inside. “I don’t suppose you could take this and put the rest on my tab?” She held out her hand, in which she held nine silvers. An angry growling from her stomach betrayed her hunger, which normally would’ve been a little embarrassing, but she could see some sympathy wash over the old man’s face when he heard it. “No tab necessary, lass.” He took the coins from her hand began fixing her a plate of basic foodstuffs, “But take my advice, you might wanna just wanna skip on over to the next town. Reckon any contracts here’ll be taken care of soon enough.” Lina had almost stopped listening, since the plate of food had stolen her attention, “Why’s that?” “Some famous hero just rolled into town. Rumor is she’s one of the most talented sorceresses in Esora,” He explained, setting the breakfast down in front of her. “Half the mercs skipped town when she got here, and I hear the Sentinel’s Guild is reserving any well-paying contracts for her.” “Wonderful… ” Lina groaned, rubbing her eyes. Pushing it out of her mind, and deciding to be thankful for small miracles, she tore into her breakfast. ---------- Lina could hardly see the white stone buildings and cobblestone roads through the throngs of people out and about. It didn’t take long before she caught on to what they were all talking about. “I heard Gleaming Maya killed a wyvern with one arrow!” A young boy shouted to his friends, much to their amazement. “She’s so gorgeous, she can’t walk ten feet without someone proposing!” A girl said, eliciting giggles from her friends. “She knows more about magic than anyone! My uncle told me that every king in the land tries to hire her as their court mage, but she always turns them down!” Some guy said to a large group of travelers. He was talking about this hero like she was already the town’s biggest tourist attraction. I’ve never heard of “Gleaming Maya”, Lina thought, trying to recall any tales about about this legendary hero. After a few more minutes of walking, a brilliant explosion snapped the young knight out of her reverie. Like fireworks, little arrows flew into the air before exploding into magical, glittery dust. After a second, the sparks and colors began rearranging themselves, and resolved into a mosaic-like depiction of a woman with a bow standing before an orc army, ready to trample her. A large audience was gathered around the light show, oooing and awwing at the display, but they gasped and went quiet at the visage of the lone hero facing down certain death. “But, as you may have guessed, this would not be the end of Gleaming Maya!” A young woman called out, evidently the sorceress performing the light show. Lina had no romantic interest in women, but even she had to admit that this woman was beautiful. Her skin, pale and without a single blemish, was lovingly shown off by her rather revealing attire. Her chest was covered only by a tight, blue garment that was only a little more fabric than just a bra. Likewise, her enchanting thighs were bared by her “pants”, which looked to Lina like nothing more than blue panties. From both of these articles, numerous gold bangles hung down, hypnotically swinging and swaying as the mage moved her body in rhythmic motions to keep the magic going. Her hair was the most perfect shade of golden-blonde Lina had ever seen, and her strikingly green eyes were easily visible, even from such a distance. “Indeed,” She continued with her story, “This would only be the beginning of one of my finest adventures!” Ah, Lina realized, So that’s Gleaming Maya in the flesh, huh? The floating sparkles shifted once again, and turned into a scene of Gleaming Maya vanquishing the warlord leading the orc army with only a single, brilliant arrow. “Seeing their leader fall, the orcs were shaken, and I used this opportunity to perform my favorite spell!” She sent up another magical arrow, and in a flash the scene had changed to a vista of orcs running in terror as Maya’s arrows landed on the ground, exploding into gigantic, calamitous fireballs. “The orcs had been driven back, but not defeated. With the city safe, I returned to the king, and said ‘Your majesty! That is twice now I have saved your kingdom from certain destruction! You must listen to me now, and rally your armies, or the orcs will surely be the death of you!’” The crowd cheered. Nothing excited the common people more than a king getting called an idiot. “With an army of knights at my back, I-” She was cut off by the sound of a horrifyingly deep growl, and several people screaming. All eyes looked to the road leading towards a nearby forest, from which a colossal wolf monster had emerged, and was bounding towards the crowd. Lina quickly drew her longsword, and ran to meet the beast. It moved at blinding speeds, and Lina could tell it would be upon the crowd before she could stop it. Could she even stop it? The creature was easily twice her height, and had a jaw that could snap her in half. Lina’s heart pounded with fear. The crowd devolved into a chorus of screaming, fleeing people, each trying to push through the impenetrably thick to get to safety. It had been so densely packed that now, in the chaos, nobody could properly move. At the very least, most of the people who’d been on the outskirts of the audience had pushed in enough to get out of the wolf’s immediate path. All save for one young woman, who’d fallen her butt, paralyzed with terror. A puddle was very rapidly spreading underneath her, soaking the back of her cream colored skirt. It spread around her in unpredictable directions, curving around the cobblestones below her. Pushing herself as hard as she could, Lina managed to reach the woman first, and positioned herself between her and the charging monster. It drew closer and closer, and Lina levelled her sword, preparing to strike. When it saw that it now had a challenger, the wolf howled so loudly it hurt her ears. “Everyone! Shield your eyes!” The familiar voice of Gleaming Maya commanded. Sparing a second to turn and look at the sorceress, Lina saw her floating in the air as if it were the simplest, most natural thing in the world. She held out her hand, and, beckoned from who-knows-where, a spectacular bow materialized from a green light. She quickly but powerfully drew back the string, willing into existence a gleaming green arrow. Letting it loose, it soared through the air at incredible speed, leaving a trail as it flew. Before the wolf even knew what hit it, it was vaporized and reduced to so many glittering sparks in the air. Lina just stood there dumbfounded. If this Gleaming Maya could do that, it was no wonder she was so respected here. “Are you all right, miss?” she heard Maya ask behind her, reminding her that there was a woman she was trying to protect behind her. Turning around, she saw Maya helping the terrified woman to her feet. The poor thing’s face was a mess of tears, and burning bright red. No one could judge her for having lost control of her bladder at a time like that, but she was clearly still humiliated. As the adrenaline rush of being charged by a monster, and then watching that monster explode wore off, the young lady quickly became the center of attention. A number of people snickered, some looked on in sympathy, and many averted their eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” Maya said, placing a hand on the woman’s shoulder, “This kinda thing happens, but I’ve got a fix,” She waved her hand for a second, and then snapped her fingers. With a flash of light, the woman's skirt instantly dried, bearing no trace of the accident. Lina’s mind quickly wandered to many instances throughout her life where a “hide wetting” spell would’ve come in handy. The young woman moved her legs a little, clearly gauging to see if she was truly dry. The look of surprise and disgust on her face answered her question. Maya put her arm around the woman's shoulder, and whispered conspiratorially, “I could only make it look dry, love. You’ll need to get changed before an hour’s up or it’ll wear off,” She nodded in reply, and with a little shove from Maya, sped off towards her home. And then she turned to Lina. “And now, everyone, let’s have a hand for our fearless friend here! If I hadn’t been here, I daresay you would’ve been in good hands!” The audience cheered and clapped appreciatively, even though Lina hadn’t actually done anything. Nonetheless, she smiled and waved at the crowd. She thought she should’ve said something, but Lina had never been good with crowds. Gleaming Maya resumed her performance, the crowd practically showering her with money, now. Lina turned to walk down the path into the forest. It may be dangerous, but she’d need food when she traveled to the next town, and she certainly wasn’t about to buy any here. An uncomfortable feeling graced her privates as she walked, and only then did she realize that Maya’s remark about her being fearless was pretty ironic. Lina hadn’t even noticed, but she’d leaked a good bit of urine into her panties during the whole ordeal. Groaning in annoyance as her day just got worse, she trudged on down the path. Curiously, she noted that the wolf monster had seemingly left no footprints. ---------- Maya was happy to see that her audience had more than doubled after the wolf attack. The entire street was flooded with people excitedly listening to her tales and watching her magical performance. But two whole had passed since the attack, and she was tired, her voice hoarse, her bladder and bowels full. It was time to wrap things up. “Ladies and gentlemen, I thank you dearly for you attention and your donations,” She happily regarded the pile of gold and silver coins littering the area near her stage, “But it’s time for me to get some rest. I’ll be here tomorro-” A terrifying howl cut her off. Her eyes went wide, and her heart nearly stopped. Everyone looked to see a hulking figure, far larger than the last, emerging from the forest. The audience was on edge, murmurs of panic surging through the mass of people. That is, until someone shouted “You’ve got this, Maya!” Just like that, the audience’s fear turned into joyous excitement. They were eager to watch her slay another problem. There was only one complication… This wolf was real. Nobody knew, but Maya was only an illusionist. She only conjured an illusory monster into existence so she could “vanquish” it, and become a hero to the people. Unlike her fake one, this one approached slowly, analyzing its prey. She stepped forward as the crowd took up a position safely behind her. Maya thought she might puke. It’s okay… I’ll think of something. Maybe if I just… Shoot it with a light arrow, it’ll get scared and run off! Suppressing her trembling, she held out her hand, and once more summoned her bow. Drawing back the string, and forming the magic arrow, she loosed it. The people cheered and screamed as the arrow flew, struck the wolf, and created a blinding explosion. The cheers abruptly ended, though, when the light faded and the wolf remained, dazed and angered, but very much unharmed. It resumed its slow trot, stepping closer and closer to Maya. “It’s a demon!” Someone shouted. Maya tried desperately to think of something to do- anything. Her mind was going blank, and her body wouldn’t move. There was a sound of splashing water, and Maya glanced downwards to see a strong stream of urine falling from her skimpy pants. The crotch bore a growing stain, and she was sure she felt it spreading around her butt, too. Some of the urine coursed down her thighs in streams, winding around her legs before running into her shoes. The puddle she was standing in expanded quickly. Her knees buckled inwards, pressing against one another. She bowed her legs slightly, and felt her bowels empty in terror. With a wet crackle, her shorts, which had previously contoured to her butt perfectly, bulged violently. Tinting slightly brown, the bulge grew and grew, until it looked as though she had an apple resting in her underpants. All of this, she was depressingly aware, occurred directly in front of a massive crowd. She could hear cries of shock and insults, but mostly the people seemed to realize that this thing was about to kill them all, and panic set in once more. I’m gonna die, Maya thought, feeling tears sting her cheeks, I messed myself in front of everyone and now I’m gonna die! Taken over by despair, she fell down on her rear, splashing in the cooling puddle of her own pee. Her mess squished under her, spreading across her butt. The colossal wolf monster drew in, baring its fangs, and preparing to go in for the kill. ---------- Lina had a feeling something was wrong. The howl of another monster only hastened her decision to return to town. Maya was clearly skilled at illusion magic, considering her impressive light shows and ability to hide the woman’s wetting. And the wolf had behaved quite strangely. She’d seemed nice enough, but Lina just knew something wasn’t right. Upon returning, and seeing Maya wet and soil herself, she knew she was right. Whether or not Maya had, indeed, just made an illusion of a wolf monster, its howl was real enough, and it attracted a much meaner one. But that was unimportant. Working as quickly as she could, Lina drew her hunting bow, prepared an arrow, and fired. It struck the wolf just below the eye, getting its attention pretty quickly. It turned to face her with blinding speed, and Lina dropped the next arrow she’d grabbed, and felt a jet of hot piss spill into her panties. After fumbling for a second more, she just threw the bow aside, and grabbed her longsword. Hardly an ideal weapon to fight a monster eight times your size, but she was hardly in a position to be picky. It charged her, and she prepared to slash and roll away. One it was close enough, she swung with all her might, and struck the beast on the jaw. It yelped in pain. She attempted to roll to get away, but was caught in the middle of the action by a paw the size of her entire body. It sent her tumbling through the dirt before she landed on her back, so dizzy she could hardly think. She attempted to stand up, but the wolf was upon her almost immediately, pinning her down with one massive paw placed over her chest. Were it not for her armor, it would’ve crushed her. The wolf loomed over hear, lowering its gargantuan maw down to take her head off in a single bite. She pushed, struggled, and tried to resist, but the thing was holding her down easily, not even fazed. Terrified out of her mind, Lina felt the all too familiar sensation of mess pressing against her. She’d started to soil herself, and hadn’t stopped. The seat of her pants bulged out lightly, but the tightness of the garment forced her mess to spread. Just as she was sure the life-ending bite was near, the wolf jumped back, and began growling. Taking the opportunity, Lina rose to her feet. Upon standing, the weight of her soiling dragged her pants down a little, but she ignored it. The wolf was lowering its head, and looked angry, but not at her. Confused, she turned around, only to be graced with the sight of an enormous bear approaching the wolf. She felt a little more mess come to rest in her pants before she spotted Maya, who was clearly performing an illusion spell, judging by her rhythmic movements. She’s giving me a chance to kill it! The wolf and bear circled each other for a moment, meanwhile Lina quickly and quietly approached the beast that was actually real. With a frightening surge of movement, the wolf leapt upon the bear, only for it to explode in a dazzling burst. Shutting its eyes against the bright light and stumbling backwards in shock, Lina took her chance to strike. Sprinting just below its neck, she slashed her sword, slicing open the beast’s throat. With a gurgling roar, it thrashed around, spewing blood every which way, before finally collapsing. She knelt down, panting hard to catch her breath. After a moment, raucous cheers sounded from behind her, and the crowd that had once been adoring Maya was now surrounding her. Lina took a little comfort in seeing just how many skirts and pairs of pants were soaked or soiled. Through a break in the crown, Lina saw Maya hurrying down a small alleyway between buildings. “Sorry, let me through,” She said as she forced the people apart so she could pass. She wanted to speak with Maya, but she also wanted to distance herself from the crowd before anyone noticed the massive load in her pants. Following down the same path the illusionist had taken, she found her sitting in a secluded little nook, crying. Lina opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find the words right away. Maya looked up at her for a second, before quickly veering away, “I know, I’m a liar and a coward. I’ll leave town now.” “I take it you’ve never fought real monsters before.” “No, all my stories are just stories. I’m just a pants-wetting coward.” “... So was I.” Lina blushed as she said. “Huh?” “I used to wet myself all the time when I was new to this. Half the time, I didn’t even last to the fight- just seeing a monster was all it took. I couldn’t tell you how many times I’ve crapped my pants, either.” Maya considered this for a second, before shaking her head, “You’re still not a liar.” “No, I guess I’m not. But do you know what I am?” “What’s that?” “Alive,” She crouched down, ignoring the squish of her mess, and looked Maya in the eyes, “I’m alive, because you were brave when you needed to be. If you were really some coward and a sham, you would’ve run and left me, but you didn’t. You stayed, and helped me. Because of that, I’m alive.” The faintest glimmer of hope returned to the young mage’s face, “I… I guess so. But… How am I gonna live this down? People almost got hurt, I- I… messed, in front of everyone… ” “Do you think I haven’t? I’ve soiled myself in front of a bunch of people, too. Had to kill a monster for them, and I wound wishing it had killed me instead when I turned around, and everyone could see stains on my legs.” Even through her tears, Maya chuckled lightly. “Listen, I’m heading to the next town in the Longmarch, looking for some mercenary work. Would you like to come with me, at least just till we reach the place?” “I… I think I’d like that, thank you… But first, we should probably-” The barking of a dog startled both of them, and after the ordeal they’d just been through, it sounded much too similar to a wolf for either of their likings. For Lina, the strength with which she’d been holding her bladder finally failed, and her brown trousers darkened between her thighs. The stain grew and the pee flowed down her legs, mostly down her left, where it went all the way down and spilled out into a puddle around her boot. The stain on her right leg reach down to her knee. Having already soiled herself, Lina made no attempt to hold it. “... Probably get changed, I was saying.” Maya was smiling at the absurdity of what just happened. Lina knew from experience that humiliation like this took a long time to get over, but she was happy to help… even if it meant pissing herself. “Before we go… Can you still do that spell to make us look dry?”
  10. This is a collaboration I did with the talented LivingInfinite. He's done the honor of creating many drawings to accompany the story, which are spoilered next to where they appear in the text. Make sure to check him out at http://pixiv.me/livinginfinite (or if you just want to see the drawings). (The story takes place in the same universe as March of the Valkyries. Consider reading it first, it's sort of a prequel to this one.) “How much longer remains for us to travel?” “The Third Corps rest twenty-three kilometers to our north. They have received your order to remain still for three days. Should misfortune not befall our journey, we will arrive at noon tomorrow.” “Then let us dawdle no longer. Where are we to go?” “Certainly, your majesty. We shall go now in this direction.” Queen Ulrika the First of Scandia, regal and resplendent in an officer’s uniform, led her servant through the long grass. The queen’s stride necessitated in Iris a hurried pace matched easily by the plodding, unburdened horses she led. Perhaps walking was indeed invigorating, as Ulrika had declared, but she wished now for a respite from her sore muscles more than any invigoration. How intractable the queen was in these times, allowing the two powerful and prized stallions to be led with naught more than clothes on their backs. Of the four, the brown Arabian was perhaps the most acquainted with the surrounding lands. He was a war-horse, an ex-regular in the Gothian army whose care was bestowed upon the Scandians after a crushing battle at Mistelfeld. The green peaks enveloping the party were where he once grazed, the rapid streams in the dense forests where he once drank. Gothia’s winds, rushing cold and fast in the deep Visigoth valleys, rustled his mane as they had since he was a colt. What an idyllic scene it must have been to the stallion, who could not have known that he, in nominal terms, had still not yet returned to his homeland. For his new master, the queen who had brought him back to his pastoral valleys, had made the lands behind her Scandian soil. Eleven years of victory and conquest under Ulrika’s reign had brought her Northern empire to the peak of its power, possessing as it did now a dominion exceeding that of Gustav IV’s and an exorbitant wealth not seen since Harald II. Her march had not stopped at the lands lost in the Twelve Years’ War, for she had taken it upon herself to exact from her adversaries the vengeance Scandia’s royalty had long promised and failed to achieve. The Livonian Federation had been dismantled and existed now only as Scandian tributaries, bestowing wheat from its fertile fields upon the soldiers who were now bringing upon the Gothian Empire a similar fate. Four years of the Second Strelizian War released the once-mighty empire’s final vassals to Ulrika, who hesitated not one second in leading her Grand Army to breach the citadel of Greater Gothia. The conqueress now trod upon the Gothian heartland’s soil. An extraordinary mythos had burgeoned around the Virago Queen, whose continued presence on the battlefield broke enemy morale and reinforced her troops’ unyielding bravery even in the face of certain death. The veneration of her subjects manifested in their insistence she be referred to as Ulrika the Great, while her foes decried the Scandian monarch as a harpy of death and subjugation. But while Ulrika’s unassailable bravery in the fray made her distinct from the tradition of Scandian nobility preferring to dictate battle from afar, her tenuous control over herself while in the throes of war remained an accursed vestige of her genteel lineage. Though she would never dare to voice her thoughts, Iris could not help but ponder if the burden of bloodshed upon heart and mind had made worse the queen’s already poor continence. At any rate, it was a notion that Ulrika’s pride in herself compelled a wholehearted rejection of. She was still reaching ever-greater glory for her country and her reign, marching as she was now closer and closer to the Gothian nobility in their capital. For all of the nation’s great populations crammed into the sooty cities of industry, the countryside offered a solace of tranquility devoid of cacophonies of modernity. But free it was not of the heavens’ bellows, crashing down upon the valley in a peal of thunder echoing all around the Baden peaks. The sudden clap would prove enough of a shock to Ulrika for her to momentarily lose herself in battle-tempered trauma, and allow into her diaper’s clean padding her hot urine and a malodorous load. Only with considerable effort did could she gather enough composure to get a hold on herself, but by which point the sodden padding between her thighs and sticky mess at her rear told Ulrika her accident had been quite considerable. But Iris and her equine companion seemed entirely unperturbed by the thunder, as revealed to the queen in a quick backwards glance. Though Iris had at least suspected, from Ulrika’s reaction and blush, her secret, to make mention of needing a change to her collected servant would be a wound to Ulrika’s pride – and so she walked onwards at a steady tempo, with a blush of secret humiliation upon her face and a soiled diaper tucked discreetly under her clean clothes. She scowled at having wet herself at something so minute, something that should have under no circumstance scared her to that degree. Had it not been for Saalfeld… Adamant she was in her own strength and ability, Ulrika could not help but feel a twinge of displeasure at retaining still her personal failings despite all which she had achieved. She had become the Virago Queen and Ulrika the Great, but could not prove herself more continent than when she had been Princess Elisabeta. A preservation of her image in war was beyond a matter of her vanity—it was a powerful instrument of propaganda serving Scandian interests in the minds of both her subjects and foes. It was to Ulrika’s great displeasure that the achievement of those ends involved at times a sacrifice of her own dignity. As with all things relating to Ulrika’s personal matters, long-suffering Iris had endured much vexation before her mistress could be convinced of a need to wear protection in the days after encountering a clash. The queen had never but begrudgingly accepted the circumstance, and continued to profess to Iris the reservations she had about wearing a diaper she could not remove to relieve herself. But in light of her queen’s tendency to wet herself at even mild impetus, the servant found that such a situation presented itself quite rarely indeed. Not an hour had passed since thunder had coursed through the clouded valley when the sun peeked furtively out of the gloomy clouds. All the valley basked in its warming rays lifting the mild morning dew off long blades of grass. Such was the duality of the Gothian sky. A mild humid heat began to wash over heavily-dressed Ulrika; with sweat beading on her brow she instructed Iris to lead them into the forested trough. Their slow descent on the rocky terrain brought the sounds of life closer with each step, a symphony of birdsong and stirring fauna. A restless doe trotted half a league away, crunching on the layer of leaves below her hooves. Unbeknownst to her, she was being tracked – watched in the sights of a Weiss hunting rifle. The rifle’s bark scattered all life unlucky enough to have their peace intruded by the shot, sending legions of rodents scampering and bringing flocks of birds to the skies. Magnified as it was by the shape and depth of the valley, the shot would register within Ulrika as a phantom of the ruthless bullets hurled towards her at Saalfeld, that great fight whose recent memory still lurked inside her soul. Indeed, the discharged rifle was of the same manufacture as the one which had downed countless Scandians in their campaign in Gothia. It impressed within Ulrika’s subconscious that she was being assassinated, but the cohesion of the thought was lost in its journey to register as a sheer reflex-inducing terror. The queen spat a curse and staggered to the side with the momentum of her weight, leaping for cover behind the muscular flanks of her horse and eliciting from the beast a startled whinny. Her arms shot up in defense of her head and heart, and brushed on it way her shotgun’s roost across her breast. Adrenaline overcame fear enough for her to bring forth the weapon to return fire. Engrossed as she had been on escaping death and now returning fire, Ulrika stood unaware that the unadulterated terror had cost her what control she had over herself. The second deadly shot never came. But of course. The sound was too distant to have been a messenger of grave danger. Only as her fear subsided did she notice the increased bulk of the sodden padding between her legs, and the sensation in her bowels indicating that she had again emptied herself into her diaper. That she had voided enough in her earlier accident to avoid spilling the full contents of her bladder into the already soiled diaper was only a small mercy. Ulrika could feel against her nether regions now the mass of heavily soaked padding; and while her clothes remained clean it was quite clear that the same would not be true if she were to be overcome by fear again. The sight of Iris cowering teary-eyed behind her horse was enough consolation for Ulrika, but she still could not help but blush deeply when she opened her mouth. “Iris…” “Oh-, Y-Your Majesty, s-shall we stop for a brief respite from travel?” The servant’s voice was still quavering from fear, but irritatingly her dress seemed to remain clean. “Certainly, you must be fatigued. Before you rest, I ask that you … aid me with my personal matters.” “Of course. Ah– if I may, I shall mention that my supply of your, ah, u-undergarments, has become rather lessened.” Iris let a pause hang, then quickly stammered, “But please trust that I may find more.” In spite of herself, it was annoyance and not embarrassment that fell into Ulrika’s voice.“I understand. But assist me now nevertheless.” Iris needed only nod in confirmation. The less words to be said the better. The servant carefully tied the horses to a nearby tree before she went to attend to Ulrika, who glanced suspiciously around the forest for prying eyes. To quell the queen’s concerns, Iris led her behind a sturdy oak growing against a steep dirt bank, a pocket of nature shielded from the sun and eyes in two directions. She begun by undoing Ulrika’s pants and undressing the queen just enough to expose the evidently used diaper at her crotch. Experience had made Iris’s touch gentle and delicate, all for Ulrika to divest her attention away from the humiliation. She did not look once at her mistress’s face as she removed the diaper and cleaned Ulrika’s skin, the weight of the used padding revealing just how much she had needed the protection. It took naught more than two minutes for Iris to finish wrapping the queen in a clean diaper and dress her again, by which time the embarrassment had too receded from her cheeks. With the hot sun now high in the sky, Ulrika chose to mount her horse and ride in the shade of the valley’s tall pines. The horses, hemmed in by the tall pines and dense underbrush, could not unleash their mighty gallop here, and so carried their riders in a lively trot past rushing creeks and fallen logs. Each passed landmark prompted Iris to consult her map and compass, and adjust just enough their course to carry onwards to nightfall’s destination. There were no roads and no trails here in the countryside; a land seemingly devoid of all human imprint where one could hide and never be found. Ulrika relaxed her still-tense mind from the thought of the hunter, and let the horse’s steady gait while the hours away against the backdrop of a peaceful alpine forest. As the afternoon unraveled and the journey grew long, the Baden Valley scenery gently rolled by and changed remarkably little. Only when the horses suddenly stopped and whinnied were the two travelers broken out of their dreamlike trance. Curiously, they could spot nothing amiss within the heavily wooded vicinity which could have brought their stallions to a halt. In an abdication of her fruitless search, Ulrika knit her eyebrows and picked up the reins, preparing to spur on the disconcerted steed, when a furious howl abruptly shattered the silence of the forest. The savage cry startled all who it struck, and Ulrika’s heart jumped in her chest and her body stiffened, allowing for a moment an errant stream of piss to escape and absorb into her waiting diaper. Her regal white mount neighed and staggered, tugging upon the reins his rider still held in hand. But a temperament bred for calm under the utmost stress would prevail, and so when the scarlet fox leapt out from behind the trees he merely snorted and pawed the ground, waiting dutifully for the leather reins’ next instruction. Ulrika, however, had understood what the horse could not – those bulging eyes and the foam at the mouth, the convulsions and the erratic dash – a mad beast, a rabid beast! With not an ounce of restraint or reason in its mind, the snarling foxed twisted and contorted, and bolted towards the first creature it could see with salivating jaws ready to sink their teeth into soft flesh. Though small the fox was, the sight of its rabid dash towards its quarry would easily make Ulrika’s blood run cold. And in an instant it had found her again – the still-festering apparitions at Saalfeld, the apparition haunting her nights – those demons of death and terror, lurking always deep within her heart. It was too soon to forget, too living a memory to suppress; she had emerged victorious from the battle of ereyesterday but her nerves had been shot. So consumed was Ulrika was by the awakened terror of human carnage that she could not find it in her to scream or draw her weapon, and with her muscles paralyzed by fear she failed also to inhibit the torrent of hot urine that rushed freely from her bladder or the load squishing out of her slackened bowels. Her extremities became less and less material and dangled weightless, useless at her sides; all the queen could feel now was her heart exploding in her chest and the hot piss pooling at her crotch before it could soak into the drenched padding. But without ally in grave peril she was not, for her white Scandian horse had too realized the scope of the danger. Retaining still a clear and sharpened mind, the great beast bucked and leapt gracefully out of harm’s way, and upon impact with the earth broke into a gallop in tandem with his Arabian brethren. The horse’s loud neigh and powerful stride would be a strange reassurance proving enough for her to regain some sense, and though her chest still pounded with a bursting heart the ferocity of battle was beginning to take hold of her temples. The fox was behind, screeching a pitiful wail of desperation and confusion, and wildly running still in a chase for something, anything, though it did not even know what it was chasing for. A long-awaited demise, albeit delivered without intention of mercy, came from the left barrel of Ulrika’s Seidel shotgun in an impeccable Parthian shot. When the fox had collapsed on the ground and the blood began to paint its matted fur a sanguine red, Ulrika turned herself back around and pulled on her horse’s reins, abruptly ceasing his free and wild gallop. Iris’ Arabian followed suit. The encounter had not taken more than a minute, but to Ulrika it had felt as though half her life was stolen away. What a calamity this was. It had merely been a fox – and even instilled with all the madness in the world could not have been any match for Ulrika. But in the circumstances of today… and though I could at least kill the fox with due competence… how hampering was the residue of warfare on her soul, slowing her, dulling her, filling her with undue fear. Her assailant indeed lay dead behind her, but left her to contend with the sensation of sitting in padding wet with her own pee and a disgusting mess that the saddle squished against her backside. More than anything, she felt quite disgusted with the spectacle. There were people afoot here, hunters or farmers perhaps, murmuring among themselves while casting glances over the strange outsider in their lands. Ulrika glanced quickly at her backside to ensure her secret remained hidden, and though it wasn’t particularly reasonable for her diaper to have leaked she still felt a bout of relief at finding her clothes dry. Still, there hung over Ulrika an undeniable embarrassment of being seen while having soiled herself. To further the queen’s disconcertion, Iris again retained great composure despite all which had just occurred. Had she seen not the fox’s raving madness? The queen had begun riding again at a slow trot, and so Iris picked up heir reins also to follow. Only after about two minutes did the queen stop her steed and cast a long, suspicious stare behind her. Iris balked slightly before realizing she was not the subject of her mistress’s misgivings. She had a mind to ask Ulrika for what she wished for, but the sight of the queen’s twisted expression and crimson blush bade her to keep silence. It had also the effect of telling her precisely what would be requested of her. “Iris!” The servant jumped a bit at the anger with which her mistress spoke. “Yes?” “Ach … were you been injured by that vile, rabid creature? You must know how dangerous it is to be bitten by mad beasts!” As she spoke, the edge of her voice dulled. “Oh… I had not even noticed! Then I am sincerely grateful for your valorous deed!” Iris needed not feign her surprise. And Ulrika’s shot was indeed fantastic. “Is that so? Well, shall we rest for a while then? Just to steady ourselves.” “Certainly, ah, well, will you need me from anything then?” She tried dearly to speak with discretion. “If you may.” The flatness of Ulrika’s response told Iris of her success in tact, though of course she could not let her relief show on her face. As before, she retrieved another one of Ulrika’s diapers from the bag slung across the Arabian’s haunches. For not one second did she let the gentle grace in her movement falter as she cleaned and changed Ulrika. When all was said and done she quickly turned heel and climbed upon her Gothian horse, and waited earnestly for sight of the queen’s stallion to lead them forwards in travel. Where the tall peaks separating Gothia from its vassals begin to fall away, there lies kissed by the sun swathes of the continent’s most fertile, most bountiful farmland. The autumn’s great harvests of wheat nourished the all lands’ children, garnished by the vineyards’ delectable wines and the breweries’ stout ales. The grazing bovine herds and fattened pigs in their pens completed the bucolic beauty. How pitiful it was for such a prosperous realm to fall so unceremoniously before frozen, lifeless Scandia! The cornucopia waited at the mouth of the valley, deceiving close, tantalizing travelers with the promise that it lay not but a few paces away. But the lands were wily, for the valley rolled gently and gradually, concealing the vast distances of travel that remained in the endless valley before Gothia’s breadbasket. The sun drew lower in the sky sending its light dancing around the tops of the highest peaks, and withdrew its beating heat from the valley floor to be cooled by emerging evening breezes. It was Ulrika who first noticed the rushing wind sifting through the valley’s dense trees and realized the waning of the day. Hours and countless kilometers had gone by since her encounter with the fox. Having not left the forest of the valley floor, she had yet to be enticed by vistas of the Gothian hinterland, and was fast tiring of the beautiful but monotonous woodlands. She pulled sharply upon her white horse’s reins and swung her body off the saddle in one graceful motion, obliging Iris to quickly follow suit and begin leading both horses on foot. The servant consulted her map and compass for the umpteenth time, and when satisfied in the slight detour Ulrika had chosen to take, looked up to follow her out of the woods. Undeniable was the Baden Valley’s beauty, but its gentle inclines did not endear the Scandian queen to the lands now in her possession. All the noble blood in the world could not teach her to cherish the world’s natural grandeur through the eyes of an aristocrat. Though Iris was enraptured by the beauty her homeland so dearly lacked, Ulrika remained markedly unimpressed by how effortless a climb on the Gothian slopes felt. The leisurely stroll was barely less monotonous than a ride through the forest, but demure Iris had broken her usual silence to insist that they stay upon the hillside. She would stop to rest several times during their walk, but Ulrika felt throughout not even the slightest hint of exhaustion or exertion. There was in her body no savory ache nor biting soreness to test her endurance, and in light of her muscles’ ambivalence Ulrika’s senses were drawn to her gradually filling bladder. She cursed herself for having put on her last diaper, for she could not remove it even to relieve herself without putting it to waste. All she could do now was squeeze her legs together and try to relieve the mounting pressure. A hot dryness had formed in the back of Ulrika’s mouth, inviting her to take a swig from her canteen to slake off the thirst. She obliged and brought the jug to her lips, pouring forth the cool, pure water she had collected earlier from a rushing stream. But gulping the refreshing drink down into her stomach proved too much for her burdened bladder, which flinched and released, allowing its full contents to flow unrestrained into the waiting padding. Ulrika recoiled instantly and jammed a hand into her crotch to try and stem the torrent of hot piss, but her efforts proved futile; her diaper slowly expanded and warmed with her own pee for what felt like an agonizing eternity. When she had finally regained control of herself, she found that the bulk of sodden padding was pressing against her. In all other circumstances, she would have asked Iris for a change – but to do so now would mean traveling the remainder of the day without any protection. And recollecting all which had happened prompted Ulrika to quickly discard the idea. There was no alternative, then; despite everything, she would have to travel onwards in the diaper she had wet. Dusk had replaced afternoon by the time Iris and Ulrika exited the Baden Valley and arrived in the fertile fields. Gothia’s breadbasket was still a rustic and backwards plain, a far cry from the great feats of industrialization achieved in Aldenburg or Mülheim. Few people occupied the vast tracts of land, and what little made it their home lived in old-fashioned accommodations reminiscent of a bygone century. Separating each family from the next were vast fields of wheat and rye, stretching as far as the eye could see. Skipped as the countryside was by the new development of railroads, the Gothian peasants lived insular lives within their little farmhouses. Though the backwater’s houses was a far cry from the great palaces of Gothia and Scandia, for the weary travelers it was the best accommodation for miles around. Even deep in the lands of a warring state, the rural poor would not refuse a few guilders to quarter an enemy officer. Armed with the wealth of the Scandian crown, Ulrika could afford to be discerning when finding a bed for a night; and though she usually refrained from being particular she had today a pressing need for diapers to scavenge. Though she was in no position to refuse whatever she found, she hoped that industrialized Gothia would see their denizens at least buying disposable diapers for their infants. In rural Gothia, however, finding a house that housed a child was proving a long and arduous task. Frustratingly, there was not a map or guide for the region, and the tall crop combined with the fading light had made navigation itself a challenging procedure. To find a house at all was a small miracle, and to find one that served Ulrika’s needs seemed nigh impossible. Light was fading quickly from the fields; and though the queen was unbothered by the darkness she wished for a place to relieve her churning bowels. The rations of salted beef had not agreed with her today. With no end to the long search in sight, she made the conscious choice to void only a bit of her mess into the diaper’s thick padding. As soon as she felt the mush escape her, she instantly regretted her infantile act. Now she could not even remove her diaper until she had something clean to change into. Endlessly they searched as the hours ticked by and the sun receded to leave the valley in the throes of dusk. They mounted their horses to hasten their progress and discovered that they had only become disoriented faster. Many times Iris would note in dismay that they had only gone in circles. And all throughout, Ulrika found that voiding herself earlier had done little to lessen the bully beef grumbling in her stomach and coagulating in her bowels. She pressed Iris into the role of sole navigator, and concentrated hard on bearing down upon her abdomen, trying with all her might to avoid another accident. But it all came to no avail when her stomach suddenly lurched as she prowled the fields and forced from Ulrika’s bowels the contents she had so desperately tried to hold in. It was the second such incident that she had the displeasure of enduring today, and the mortification of wetting herself earlier paled in comparison to the absolute disgust she felt now. Her position on the saddle had the effect of pressing the foul mush up against her as soon as it escaped her, filling her entire diaper and backside with her waste. The diaper filled and strained to keep contained all of the queen’s accident, before the mass of the expulsion overwhelmed the leg gathers and allowed some to leak past her padding and into the back of her pants. Though she was already struggling with the pounding ache in her bowels, it was impossible for Ulrika to not notice instantly her diaper’s failure. Revulsion and shock swept over her, turning her face beet-red in chagrin. She could no longer maintain a pretense in front of Iris. The servant took not much longer to discover her mistress’s lapse in continence. She made no comment upon seeing the stain on the back of Ulrika’s pants. Driven by a mixture of fear and embarrassment, and without making a ripple in the awkward atmosphere, she silently hastened her pace in looking for a place to stay the night. The queen rode wordlessly behind her, shifting her weight constantly to lessen the discomfort she was in. Her great impatience for finding a place to stay had been supplemented by a crushing fear at being seen in her soiled state. But time would prove a harsh mistress and drag on for an unbearable eternity, punctuated occasionally by the discovery of another farmhouse only to find it without young children. Ulrika rode in the shadow of Iris, trying the best she could to keep as far away from prying eyes as possible. Night had almost completed its succession of day when Iris heard suddenly, from the barely-illuminated farmhouse she was riding towards, the cry of a young child. There could be the night’s stay! She cracked the reins across the Arabian, urging it into a canter, but the queen did not follow with the same vigor. Sensing quickly her mistake, she slowed her horse down to a slow trot. But Ulrika was ahead of her, having already dismounted and continued inconspicuously on foot. Iris followed in turn, and for the remainder of the distance to the farmhouse led her horse behind her. When she had reached her destination, she tied the beast to a fence and knocked upon the heavy oak door. Though she saw through the windows shadows move behind candlelight, the ruddy-cheeked boy who greeted at her at the door still took her by surprise. “Hiya, whaddya want?” He spoke through grating and tonal voice, and had the vernacular of the country dialect. Though she had years of learning with the language, Iris could only just understand the child. “May I speak to your parents, little one?” Her Gothian was the precise and careful speech of one who learned through books. It marked her as not only an intellectual, but also a foreigner in these lands. “They went out to tha market. A’hm the only one ‘round. Watcha need, auntie? Who’re you anyway? Are you one of them bandits? You don’t look one!” All the words tumbled out of his mouth and mixed together. Coarse as he was, Iris could not help but find the jovial child endearing. “We’re only travelers from a faraway land. We’ve no place to stay tonight. If you wish, I can reward you for helping us.” She held open a hand, revealing three shimmering gold pieces. The child’s eyes went huge. “Wow! Please-please-please stay here! I’ll letcha you my mama’s room! Howd’ja get the gold? Are you a king? Are you a prince?” He stared at Iris with scrutiny. Now Iris couldn’t help but laugh. “Where I come from the gold grows on trees. But where I come from is a secret!” The boy pondered her words for a moment, and apparently satisfied, took the coins and opened the door. Ulrika had been ignored completely by the child, now showing Iris around the house, and she was relieved for it. She prayed that the odor of her accident and the stain on her pants would be go unnoticed. Luck would finally be on her side, however, as the musk of open bedpans and livestock pervaded the entire house. Her attention was torn quickly to the sounds of a young child’s unintelligible speech, and she realized then that in the room across from her was the farmhouse’s only other denizen. It was a young girl, a young girl who walked steadily upon her two feet but spoke slowly and with considerable labor. She was dressed in a simple and rough dress made of a single piece of faded grey cloth, and walked over to speak to Ulrika in the Gothian that she did not understand a word of. Before the child could become frustrated at the strange newcomer who understood nothing and spoke nothing, she was scooped up quickly by her older brother and taken into another room. Taking care to stay out of sight, Ulrika watched from behind a doorframe as the boy placed her sister upon the bed and changed her diaper. She waited until the child had left the room and scampered downstairs, and called loudly in Scandian for her servant to come quickly. Iris, understanding fully Ulrika’s predicament, hesitated not for a second in responding to the request. With a wet sponge and several rags, she gently cleaned off Ulrika and peeled from her the soiled clothing to wash. Night had fallen, and the travelers would take the initiative to pad downstairs for a cold bath the kitchen’s metal tub. With both children in the house asleep, they could relax and indulge in the house’s greatest luxury. When satisfied with the bath, both women changed themselves into their silken nightgowns. Iris slipped into a pair of simple cotton panties, and produced from a bag several baby diapers she had taken from the daughter’s bedroom. She prepared from the kitchen a corrugated washboard to wash the queen’s uniform in, only looking up from her work to see Ulrika walk upstairs with the diapers in hand. By the dim glow of candlelight, the queen entered and locked the door of her room, and when sure of her absolute privacy looked carefully over the diapers to discern how she could fit them over herself. While they were certainly preferable to the prospect of wetting herself without protection, Ulrika found baby diapers to be always tight-fitting and exceedingly uncomfortable around her hips and crotch. Much to Ulrika’s displeasure, the diaper she squeezed around her waist now would prove no different. Worse still, wearing the infantile undergarment inspired no confidence – the thin padding, meant for children, would no doubt fail at containing any of the queen’s accidents. All the pillaged diapers provided to her was a small safeguard, an interim for minor leaks before she could procure another package of her personal protection. With brief consideration of her bedwetting and how unacceptably small the child’s diaper was, Ulrika decided then to put on over the diaper she wore a second pair of the padded undergarments, and hoped for the best as she lay herself down upon the bed to sleep. Though she gazed through eyes clouded by the dense fog, Ulrika found in her heart the stirring of pride upon inspecting her Grand Army at arms and ready for their trial. Upon the field were regiment upon orderly regiment of blue-coated infantry, marching in step and unison to the beat of the battle-drums, bayonets at the ready and with hearts full of valor beating in their chests. Forwards, forwards they marched, advancing in an ever-quickening tempo, pouring from their chests the gallant Northern battle-cry. The methodical march of man was drowned out by the furious flight of cavalry, galloping without fear or question into the guns of the enemy. A thousand brandished cuirassiers’ sabers sliced through the fine mist. All the worlds’ chaos was gone, drowned out by the great roar of wind rushing past. Orange turned the sky, illuminated by the fire spat from countless muzzles and penetrating deep into the murky heavens; and the infinite fury of battle collapsed back upon itself as it fell down to the earth below, finally striking Ulrika as nothing more than a drop of light bouncing daintily off her weapon’s polished brass. The gates of Hell had opened and smeared the dewy hills with a plague of black-coated Gothian soldiers, congealing and converging in the haze into one great being before the order of battle forced them apart. They were the spawn of the perfidious rogues who a century earlier had crippled and torn apart the Scandian empire and doomed to a frozen exile all which had remained. But that had been when Scandia was weak and Gothia was strong; now Scandia was mighty and poised to bring upon the invaders’ homelands a long-promised retribution. You may fight like lions and die as free men, but you will not change the fate that awaits your lands. Nearer and nearer the Gothians drew, their curses and epithets sounding louder, their gunfire bursting brighter and the hail of bullets growing thicker. They were drawn as moths are to a flame towards the flanking light infantry, and in droves fell upon their knees to fire upon the charging Scandians. Ten thousand rounds of fire coalesced into one roar sweeping from their divisions across the grassy plains, cracking violently over each Scandian horse and rider as the first bullets began striking the earth. The loosened ground began splashing up in little fountains, glanced by the flying lead; closer and tighter the pattern drew, so Ulrika gritted her teeth and pulled with all her strength to turn herself away, further from the guns, further from the storms of death. And the bullets fell away from her, and there was for a moment a blessed peace, before the second volley started in earnest and though the reverberating roar fell farther away the merciless bullets bracketed her closer than they had before. Ulrika’s head was torn apart by a thousand impulses and her breath snared deep within her chest, and the horse was crying for want of clear instruction as she desperately whipped the beast back and forth in an effort to throw off their aim. She was in the depths of a terror and turmoil that slowly sapped the strength from her tightly-clenched body, allowing to trickle from her crotch a weak but consistent trickle of piss to be absorbed by her diaper before she could even notice. Faster, faster she charged her horse to run, only half a league onwards, fifteen, ten seconds to safety. But the third withering volley never came, its expected roar replaced by frantic screams of sudden melee and disorganized gunfire. The Scandian cuiraissiers had arrived, charging with gleaming swords into the distracted infantry regiments, slashing, cutting with impunity. Lulled away from the cover of their heavy guns by the Scandians’ charge, the black-coated mob found itself without defense from the cavalry eviscerating their ranks. The feint had been successful beyond expectations, though Ulrika was already too far away to appreciate the victory, riding still at a breakneck pace until she had crested the hill’s ridge into the Scandian infantry’s ranks. Only then did she grant herself a respite, unwinding her body slowly from the tight clench of a fight for survival. Though terrifying it was to be the defenseless lure in the order of battle, the losses on her regiment had been quite minimal; nary more than a handful Scandians would emerge bleeding from Gothian fire. There would be a brief calm to be enjoyed now, a fleeting moment for the injured to be rescued and the disarmed to be requisitioned by their comrades on foot. Ulrika felt herself for wounds, and realized suddenly that the padding between her legs had grown quite warm and damp against her crotch. Her bladder felt empty. I must have wet myself without noticing. Blind to the battlefield from the low ground they sheltered in, Ulrika’s light cavalry could not but wait for the bugle’s call for them to ride again into the fray. The horses trotted indignantly at being denied the excitement of battle; their riders mentally braced for facing the next gauntlet. One, two unbearable minutes drew by, before over the hill came the clarion signal, urging the division into another perilous struggle against their own demises. No time to think, no time to hesitate; there was but one task at hand to be faithfully executed. It was a strategy whose creation Ulrika herself had overseen, and now as she loaded the gleaming brass shells into her shotgun and spurred her horse to carry herself into the enemy lines, a strategy that she would become component of. Cheers and hurrahs from the hunkered infantry carried her into battle, their voices an ardent reminder of her duty still as the Scandian idol. The two opposing forces had taken sides around the hilly battlefield, their ground demarcated by the fire of heavy cannon denying enemy advances into their lands. Both Scandian and Gothian ranks dispersed in the face of shell bursting with enough strength to wholly eviscerate a platoon. A stalemate began to coalesce over the battlefield – a stalemate that attacking Scandia had not the ability to weather. Now, the Grand Army’s spearhead could only be sharpened again by the light cavalry. Though her horse could run without fear of enemy fire in the depression, Ulrika also found herself unable to discern when her comrades’ lines ended and her enemies’ started. Scandian cries melded into foreign barks as she pushed deeper into the enemy’s ranks, but she did dared not to strike upon them until she could hear their artillery’s thundering fire. Each shot was louder and more violent than the rest, until she could feel in her bones the earth tremble from under her horse’s flying hooves. She was upon their cannon now, and a burst of fire that could pierce the heavens thundered to her right, the sheer might of its great bellow slamming into her as something tangible and forcing from her quivering bladder the last few drops of urine that she had not already lost. And then she could hear through the deafening ringing in her ears the artillery’s violence fade further and further away; they were behind the Gothian spearhead now. Five seconds, four seconds, three, two, one. Ulrika pulled sharply upon the right reign, and with a neigh her horse obliged to bound over the gentle slope, taking her in an instant into a sea of black-coated Gothian soldiers. They were to her right, to her front, surrounding her but outmatched entirely by the Scandians descending suddenly upon their ranks. Ulrika placed in both hands her Seidel and aimed quickly at the dense crowd. There was no need to identify a single target before she pulled the heavy trigger, for the Gothians had assembled so tightly that the heavy lead shells were practically guaranteed to find a mark. Again and again the twin-barreled shotgun sent its tumbling projectiles into the Gothians, who in their haste to arm and return fire had abandoned the cannon, but were nevertheless cut down in droves before they could shoot back at their assailants. Not once did Ulrika slow her horse’s breakneck gallop, nor had she the mind to consider where in the battlefield she had plunged, so entirely fixated as she was upon the blistering rampage representing all that she could do to ward off her death. Load, aim, kill, load, aim, kill. To relent was to die. To fight so viciously upon horseback was a singular experience in its cocktail of pure adrenaline and terror. It was difficult to note even the most prominent of events, no matter how close they may have occurred. But though the world had folded and collapsed down into horse and rider, it was becoming impossible to ignore the physical exertion and pain that was beginning to surface. How long have I fought – how much longer will I fight? Fatigue was dripping its venom into Ulrika’s absolute focus, melting away its layers, averting her eyes from their duties and forcing her to witness the carnage around her. A flash of black, darker than the depths of night, and there it was, the Gothian cavalry had arrived, chasing the raiders with great swords at the ready. Now the world was being pulled apart, revealing its horrors for all to see; Ulrika twisted her body around and aimed quickly at the charging soldier upon his powerful black horse, and hesitated not a second to shoot behind her, allowing the pursuing soldier to fall into the tumbling leaden shells. She would not wait to see the spray of blood choke the cries of man and beast, for she had spurred her horse in a bid to escape, and with her heart snared by terror dared not look back upon the black-coated divisions. Faster, faster she pleaded her horse to run, and pressed herself lower and lower until her chest was touching his mane, but the ruthless shouts behind her still would not cease, pulling with greater and greater strength upon her mind to look behind, to find what would become of her. The pressure mounted upon her until it became unbearable, and finally look she did, and saw all which she had dreaded made manifest; her comrades had vanished and been replaced by a hundred, a thousand soldiers in black upon horses of the same shade, screaming in Gothian and slashing their glinting swords, pushing their horses faster and faster, drawing nearer and nearer to the sprinting white horse. All the blood in Ulrika’s body had been drawn into her pounding heart, and she could feel naught but the scream in her chest, pounding against her ribs and threatening to tear her wide open. Her continence disintegrated in absolute terror, releasing from her emptied bladder only drops of piss; the same mercy could not be afforded to her bowels, churning and emptying a volume of mess into the padding where it, pressed against the lurching saddle, was squished all across her backside. But Ulrika noticed not at all that she had just messed herself, so consumed as she was by the death encroaching steadily upon her. She tore her eyes away to desperately find an escape, but all there was ahead were the Gothians, a sea of them to both her sides, marching in unison like toy soldiers closer and closer until the path in front was closed, and then slowly, mechanically, lifting their rifles all at once to fire an infinite volley. Then at her right there was the black horse again, and she glanced over to find in horror that it was the horseman she had shot earlier, returned now in flesh and blood, lifting over his head a curved sword shimmering and dancing from a light she could not see. She squeezed her eyes shut, but could see still, in perfect clarity, the blade fall towards her, ready to cleave her apart, and in that moment she understood perfectly that she was to die. Valhalla… My blood? Something was clinging to her, something liquid. She lying upon her back, but could not recall what had put her there. Gone was the great cacophony of the battlefield. Ulrika slowly forced open her bleary eyes. A room, an unfamiliar room, but empty and peaceful nonetheless. There was no gunfire, no horseman, no sword, no Valhalla. It was Saalfeld again – that battle which stalked her still in her dreams and haunted her waking moments. It was her victory, but how utterly horrific it had been, trapping her divisions in a wild, defenseless escape before throwing her back to live it all over again. And how viciously those Gothians had fought for their fatherland, retreating not one step back, caring not even for their own lives, fighting and dying until the rivers ran red with their blood. To decimate all twenty thousand of their ranks took near all of the day, in which time their maneuvers trapped her within the butchery and forced her into struggle after bloody struggle. They had denied her all opportunity to retreat and change, and their relentless assaults did not fail to elicit from her several more accidents, each time further wearing away her fortitude to the point that she had soiled herself at the Scandian cannon-fire behind her. By the time she could accept the surrender her diaper had failed to contain all her mess, and the evidence for her fear had leaked past onto her thighs. That was quite possibly the most terrifying aspect of it all – how close she had come to losing completely her soldiers’ faith and enemies’ fear. The umbrage lingered even after she had changed, accentuated by her frustration of having helplessly messed herself at a shock so minute, as if she was again a princess who had never seen warfare. But she was not on the fields of Saalberg, and it was not her blood that clung wetly to her thighs. In a quickly cooling puddle around her, soaking into the rough sheets of the Gothian farmhouse, was her own pee, spilled in her sleep from the thin padding tightly wrapped around her crotch. With her eyes open now, she quickly found that even wearing the two diapers had helped little against her bedwetting; her face grew hot at the prospect of having to hide from the child her soaked sheets. A foul odor made its presence known to the humiliated queen as well, and she realized with defeat that the diaper had been ineffective at containing not just her urine. With a sigh of defeat, Ulrika propped herself up, taking care and caution taken to not spill out any more of her accident from the ill-fitting infant’s garment. She had no mind to take the soiled diapers off as underwear, opting instead to simply tear apart their elastic sides and throw them down into an empty chamber pot. Oh, what to do now. She could not call for Iris, nor could she possible leave her room dressed like this. But in her soiled state she had no desire to dress in anything. All there was to do was drape a towel around her, as a makeshift shawl, and tiptoe to Iris’ room while praying that the children had not awakened. Mercifully, her humiliation was seen by nobody during her brief walk down the hall. Iris, always the diligent domestic, wasted no time in helping Ulrika with the situation she had long foreseen. With quick and gentle movements, she cleaned off the queen’s soiled body and stretched over her muscled body another baby diaper. Over the infantile garment were the pants she had laundered yesterday, and the rest of her full officers’ uniform. Not until the queen’s attire was complete did Iris even take the time to don her own simple dress. Without taking even a second’s rest, she then moved over to Ulrika’s room and stripped the bed of its sheets, bringing them downstairs to launder again. She let the soiled cloth soak in sudsy water while she prepared a breakfast of bread from the house mixed with the rations brought along for the journey. Ulrika needed not lift a finger for the entire ordeal, and ate her meal in silence against the still-dark sky. The countryside’s denizens slept soundly in their beds, but within the tranquil farmlands there was prowling already a roving band of disheveled men, armed to the teeth with knives and guns taken from abandoned armories all along the war’s former front. Queen Ulrika’s wars had brought upon their world a great turbulence, and robbed them of any scrupulous means in their increasingly impoverished lands. They had not been the most conscientious of men prior to the unrest, but now, driven by pure desperation, they had become true outlaws who robbed and killed without remorse if only to survive another day. All the king’s horses and soldiers were fighting and dying at the hands of the Scandian invaders, leaving the lands’ population without recourse against the plundering rogues’ reign of terror. Fearsome as they might have been, the bandits acted at least with no semblance of stealth. Their drunken shouts and swears traveled far and wide around the tranquil farmland, revealing to all precisely where they were and where they were to go. The older brother of the farmhouse had awoken now, and could hear with perfect clarity the ringing vulgarities. He turned to Iris with fear etched upon his face. “It’s the outlaws, they’re comin’ fer us!”. It was an impassioned whisper. Iris hesitated a moment before deciding to relay the message to Ulrika. But the proud queen, oblivious to the region’s anarchic descent, chose not to heed the warning. She cut down Gothia’s soldiers like rye on the battlefield; what possibly could some “bandits” inflict upon her? A quick wave of the hand was all the dismissal Iris needed to see, and so she, against her own instincts, made up her mind to stay by her mistress’s side. Though the boy was perplexed by the travelers’ fearlessness, he too decided that he would stay, and see for himself how the strangers would defeat the rogues. The voices drew nearer, clearer, until Iris and the boy both could discern the words that melded together into one rambling, drunken slur. Iris felt a fear drip slowly into her heart, with each Gothian curse exacerbating further her apprehension at remaining so vulnerable to attack. She dearly wanted to hide now, but her unwavering faith in her queen kept her from running and hiding. Ulrika for her part could comprehend none of the foreign language, and so maintained throughout her resolute lack of fear at the prospect of facing a pack of drunkards. Their voices were at the house’s doorstep now, and yet Ulrika still did not bring out her Seidel. She placed her hand upon the table, ready to rise and confront the intruders should they try to enter the house. But though she had no expectation of courtesy from the strangers, the violence with which the door was broken open with struck her as a great shock. “Yer money or yer life! Choose wiselay’!” It was a tall, bearded man who bellowed the threat into the kitchen, but he was flanked on his sides by three burly men no less terrifying than he was. In his calloused hands was a heavy wooden pistol, and he pointed the gun towards each one of the three figures he saw in the room. His finger was fully wrapped around the trigger. When the barrel fell upon the farmer’s son his mouth curled tightly into a smile. “Ah, wa’s this?” In an instant, the small child was in his choking grasp. The gun was gone, replaced by a knife, and he held the glinting blade to the boy’s soft throat. “Ya don’t wantcha boy ta die, do ya? Do ever’ahthing I say, then!” How Ulrika had utterly misjudged the situation. Now she was completely and utterly awash with only the thought of her impending death. She had faced foes more determined to kill her, but all of them were purged completely from her memory. Her hands acted on raw instinct now, clutching the Seidel and almost bringing it against her enemy before a shard of fear cut their strength and sent the gun clattering to the floor. Her arms were trembling like leaves when she brought them up over her head in surrender. Tears of defeat and fear flowed freely from her eyes, as did a torrent of urine from her crotch. A putrid mush from her rear came tumbling next, and both could only be contained by the baby diaper for mere moments before they overflowed the thin padding and leaked past her thighs. The bandits were still screaming, still yelling wildly at her with words she could not understand, and growing more and more angered at her while she could only stand helplessly while voiding herself messily into her pants. And then there was an arm at her neck – this is the end – but no, it was the arm of a woman, followed by a flurry of rapid, panicked Gothian. Iris. She choked back a sob of gratitude; and was struck suddenly by the realization that she was still emptying herself in fear. Though her pants were thoroughly soaked and soiled already, she made still the great effort to regain what remained of her potty control. “An’ who ah’ ya?! Why’s yer friend wearin’ that?! She’s not fuckin’ army, is she?” The bearded man held his blade up against the child’s next, eliciting from the boy tears of fear in a silent plead for help. “Ans’wa me!” “Please… please… we’re Scandians, and we’ve got the money you need! Don’t hurt us, we can give you what you want! Money, land, we can make sure you live well!” Iris had wet herself in fear in well, and the soaked fabric of her dress and panties clung wetly to her as she pleaded with the bandit. “Just… just don’t hurt us… please!”. The bandits’ leader laughed at seeing the wet patch on the front of Iris’ skirt, but turned his attention quickly to Ulrika. “Scandia, Scandia! Where hav ah’ seen her befo’ah! Nah, me eyes don’t lie ta me!” He turned again to Iris. “Tha’s, tha’s yer queen!” Iris held up her hands. “No, no! You’re mistaken! She’s just an officer! She -” Her pleas were cut by the rogue roughly shoving her aside and fixating his burning stare solely upon Ulrika. The boy was thrown bodily upon the ground, and before he could escape, picked up by the collar and placed in a choke by one of the waiting associates. All the rooms’ eyes fell upon the queen now, and the uproarious leader was first to notice the stain on Ulrika’s pants. He threw his head back and laughed again, echoed this time by all his cronies as soon as they saw for themselves. “An’ I thought it was tha’ boy who made tha’ stink! But it wa’ her! Tha queen of Scandia!” His pistol had reemerged now, and he pointed it directly at Iris’ head. “Now girlie, why don’cha give yer queen a new pair of pants?” He grabbed the clothes at Ulrika’s stomach and with a herculean swipe tore them right open, and then with a shove knocked her over and splayed her flat against the ground. Iris was utterly taken aback by the request, but the gun’s cold metal against her cranium was more than enough to jolt her into immediate action. She crouched down swiftly and tearfully reiterated to Ulrika what she had been forced to do. The queen was shattered beyond resistance now and gave no words to answer, but even in the dark of early morning Iris could see her mistress’s face turn crimson red. Ulrika’s body hung limp as Iris pulled down her pants to reveal the soiled diaper, filled to its capacity with piss and a solid mess that had both overflowed the padding. Iris could not even bring herself to face the bandits’ derision as she pulled the useless diaper off Ulrika’s body and slid underneath Ulrika’s soiled rear a clean one. “Tha hell? Wha’s this? Ya call ya’self the queen of Scandia? Yer a baby, a baby who still piddles in ha’ diapers!” He was almost screaming with laughter now” A voice rang out behind him. “You’ve got it wrong, that ain’t no queen! Ain’t they say, that the queen’s a monster, killin’ all the army’s soldiers? I don’t see no monsters here!” The bearded bandit turned with anger. “I kno’ a queen when ah see one! Ya look at those clothes!” Now he pushed Iris aside, and strode forward to tower over Ulrika, lying on the ground wearing a diaper for all the world to see. “Ah you a queen?” He drew his gun again. Ulrika had understood none of the exchange, and found herself suddenly starting down the barrel of a screaming assailant's gun. All she could think was that Iris’s negotiations had failed, and now she was ripe for the grave. She had not even in her body the energy to scream in terror, nor fight a final dying battle; paralyzed by fear, she could only think of the cruel fate that followed such an ignominious death. What little remained in her bladder and bowels came unconsciously tumbling out of her and into her diaper, staining the front of the white padding yellow with her urine and forming a bulge of mess in the back, all in full view of the bandit. She could hear more voices now. Were they Scandian voices? Am I already killed? “Nah, she ain’t no queen! Someone’s comin’! Let’s get outta here!” The pistol in front of her suddenly disappeared. There was to her left Iris’s impassioned pleas, a clinking of coins, more Gothian yells, and then a brief, fleeting moment of absolute silence. Then she could hear again the Scandian shouts in the distance, and felt upon the back of her neck Iris’s arms cradling her head. Slowly, slowly she found herself again. There had been no killing blow. She lived still in the realm of mortals, in the farmhouse in the heart of Gothia, in the kitchen where besides her sat Iris and a distraught young boy. How resilient children were – though his red face was streaked with tears he had swallowed his sobs and sat stoically by, absorbing in silence what had just happened. Ulrika wiped her eyes with her own sleeves and let out a long, quaking breath, and realized for the first time that her diaper was soiled with her cowardice. Her face turned hot upon seeing the dazed boy’s confused stare, and she averted her eyes when finding the child’s clothing unsullied despite all he had seen. She propped herself up with her hands, into a sitting position, and wiped the tears from her eyes, to see Iris’s face fill with elation and relief. The servant grabbed her mistress’s hands, and without even pulling up her pants to cover her soiled diaper, led Ulrika upstairs into her room, where she could hide from the foraging men and women of the Scandian Grand Army’s Third Corps.
  11. "I suppose it would be pretty be fair to say that, by the time the apocalypse came, nobody was really surprised. The first outbreak was the Green Scare back in 2013, where a sudden, violent mania suddenly took control of a small town in South Carolina, driving all of the residents insane. In a panic, the Office of Disease Analysis was created to isolate and neutralize the cause. And they succeeded. ODA prevailed when everyone else thought the zombie apocalypse was upon us. In 2015, another epidemic arose in Georgia, much more resilient than the first. ODA once again responded and terminated the threat. In 2016, Louisiana was struck. Amid the panic, ODA began to expand its power, creating new sub-organizations such as the Public Health Commission and the Ministry of Epidemiology. Don’t let the professional names fool you, these were tyrannical parties, bent on containing the infection and exterminating the infected. The rest of the world watched with bated breath, all were terrified of the spreading disease, now ominously known only as “the Contagion”. Then, in late 2016, an outbreak erupted in the UK. That was all it took to blow the house of cards over. Nations everywhere shut down their harbors and airports, fearing they, too, might suffer an outbreak. It is 2018, now. Over the last 2 years, outbreaks have gone from being a yearly occurrence to being monthly, and now only weekly. People have become isolated and paranoid, and ODA is losing control of the situation. There is a lot to know about ODA, the Contagion, the crumbling world around us, but our story has a more humble beginning to it. Our story begins with a small group of three people whose evacuation didn’t quite go to plan…" -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Welcome to my interactive story, The Contagion! A terrible plague has ravaged the land, and begun the zombie apocalypse that every gun nut has always dreamed of. There’s just a few points that I want to cover before we can truly begin: 1. This story will be told from the perspective of 1 of 3 characters, and you guys get to decide who that is. While every character will remain in the party, and they will still have accidents, you will only be able to fully control a single character. There will be times when the perspective temporarily shifts to a different character, and there may even be times when the option to completely permanently change perspective is available. 2. This story will feature a main male character who is subject to accidents, along with 2 females. More characters may join the party as it progresses. 3. This story will absolutely feature messing. A lot of it. 4. This story will most likely wind up considerably darker than most others that I’ve written. Characters will get hurt, do bad things, and be put in very horrible situations. 5. And lastly, just to add some risk and unpredictability, the results of a lot of the actions you guys select will be determined via d20 roll. Not all, but a lot. With all of that out of the way, let’s introduce our cast. Leo Taylor Bio: The younger brother of Grace Taylor. His quiet, reserved speech on top of a decisively unimpressive stature and musculature makes Leo the last person anyone would expect to survive any kind of disaster. Despite his physical shortcomings, Leo has managed to survive thanks to his speed, agility, and quick wit. He always manages to find some way out of any trouble that comes his way. Though the thought of being alone terrifies him, both Grace and Angela know that he’s likely the only one of them who could survive alone. Appearance + Equipment: Leo is younger than his companions, being only 19. He is a little bit short for his age. He has light skin and shaggy, messy brown hair. Currently, he wears a green hoodie and some blue jeans. He possesses a small pistol, some ammunition, and a combat knife. Continence: Bladder control - Low, prone to leaking. Bowel control - Medium low. Fear/Stress Tolerance - Low, he will lose control easily. While Leo may always find or invent a way out of dangerous situations, he hasn’t yet discovered a way to do so without needing a change of pants. Being the timid, nervous sort of person he is, he’s always had a little trouble keeping his bowels and bladder under control. After the apocalypse, this has manifested itself in him being too shy to ask his companions to stop for a bathroom break, along with him being pretty easily scared to the point of leaking, if not flat out voiding himself in his clothes. Grace Taylor Bio: The elder sister of Leo. Grace is a respected and admired individual. Prior to the end of the world, she was a police officer, and one with a stunning record. Talented, intelligent, and strong, she was very well suited for her line of work. Evidently, she was pretty well suited for the apocalypse, too. Granted, a whole lot of her survival knowledge comes from video games and movies, but it’s served her well enough so far. Appearance + Equipment: She is 25. Similar to her brother, Grace has light skin and brown hair, though hers is kept tied in a small ponytail. She is fairly tall, and fairly fit. Currently, she wears an unbuttoned blue shirt on top of a white tee shirt, and dark blue jeans. She also wears an old, gray baseball cap that she’s owned for many years. She is the most well-armed of the group, carrying a bolt action rifle and her police handgun. She also carries a police baton. Continence: Bladder control - High Bowel control - Medium Fear/Stress Tolerance - Mixed, fear is high, stress is low. Details are below. Grace is no stranger to terrifying and dangerous situations, considering her line of work. Undoubtedly, during the early days of her career, the more intense conundrums saw her pissing or soiling her pants, but those days are long past. However, Grace has always had stomach problems, ever since she was a kid. Today, performing exceptionally strenuous physical activity will often cause her bowels to leak, or even totally empty. Angela Blake Bio: While she is unrelated to the Taylor siblings, Angela has been a close friend to both of them for many years. Before the apocalypse, she was a librarian. Like Leo, she is not the type of person you might expect to see outlive everyone else in a disaster. And, well, you wouldn’t really be wrong to think that way. Angela is not a skilled fighter or survivalist. At all. She has survived mostly by doing whatever Grace tells her. She is, however, fairly good at keeping the others going. She is decently skilled at mending clothes and wounds. She is also an excellent cook and organizer, so she is generally left in charge of supplies. Even beyond those skills, though, she is simply a very charming and optimistic person, and is usually able to inspire her friends to keep going, no matter what. Appearance + Equipment: She is 23. She has pale white skin, due to all the time she spends indoors. Her hair is black, perfectly straight, and stretches down to her back. Currently, she wears a light pink sweater and a long purple skirt that reaches nearly to her ankles. A slim pair of glasses adorns her face. She is equipped with a small revolver and a switchblade. Generally speaking, she carries their supplies, due to her skill at managing them, unless an item proves too heavy. Continence: Bladder control - Really low. Bowel control - High. Fear/Stress Tolerance - Extremely low. Angela has somewhat of a weak bladder, and it’s always been a bit of a problem for her. Scary movies or games, Halloween haunted houses, even just startling pranks, all of them had a tendency to leave her slightly damp. When the end of days rolled around, Angela found it nearly impossible to keep herself dry. Curiously, however, neither Grace nor Leo have ever seen her shit herself, nor even mention the need to relieve herself. For whatever reason, despite her weak bladder, her bowels are stronger than anyone’s. Which character will you control? A). Leo Taylor B). Grace Taylor C). Angela Blake
  12. I know there are lots of great fear wetting videos but are there any great fear messing videos out there?
  13. You see fear wetting videos all the time but I’ve never seen a fear messing video before, does anyone have any scenes or videos that include fear messing?
  14. So this is a bit experimental for me. This series will primarily feature male accidents, with a handful of female scenes here or there. Since I know that most of my subscribers likely enjoy my content for the female scenes specifically, I made sure to finish up a female-only story at the same time, so check that one out if male content isn't your thing: Otherwise, here's the beginning to this story. Hope you enjoy! Ayko opened his eyes to utter blackness. He did not know… Well, anything, truly. He was not so much awake as he was just not asleep. With a concerted mental effort, he did his best to take stock of where he was, and how he got there- for he was most certainly not in his bed. He remembered… a boat. He was on a boat, with others. A storm, then a fire, the ship in danger… And a blow to his gut throwing him into the sea. It all went black after that, but given the exhaustion and pain present in every inch of his body, Ayko knew he wasn’t dead. He must have drifted, who knows how long and who knows how far, until he washed up on some beach. He clenched his fingers, making a fist, and felt the grind of sand against his palm. Definitely a beach. He gathered his strength, and pushed himself off the ground. It felt as though half the beach had clung to his face and shirt. He felt faint, and took a deep breath, only to collapse into a coughing fit, hacking up a slurry mixture of saltwater and sand. Fighting the urge to slip back into merciful unconsciousness, he shifted his right leg, dug his knee into the sand to support himself. His body itched from having been scraped against the sand for… likely many hours, if he had to guess. The tide that washed him ashore had long since receded, leaving him out to bake in the sun; yet even dry, his clothes still felt unnaturally heavy. He reached into his pocket, and extracted a handful of sand. Grimacing, he figured that his entire outfit had to be filled with the stuff. There was a particular clump of sand that had worked its way into his underwear that he especially disliked. It was a large clump, resting in the seat of his pants. Reaching a hand back to feel it through his trousers, and see if he could dislodge it, he was confused by its texture. It was firm, but possessed a certain squishiness. Oh. Ooooohhhh… He realized then that it was not sand, or atleast, not just sand that had taken up residence in his underpants. He scowled and sighed, and begrudgingly confronted the fact that he’d soiled himself. Ayko could not even say for certain when he'd relieved himself. It had perhaps been when something hit him in the stomach, pushing him off the ship. Perhaps the fear of nearly drowning had forced it out of him. It was still soft, so it had likely happened recently, meaning he probably just filled his pants whilst he was unconscious on the beach. He didn’t have to pee all that much, either, so he figured it was probable that he voided his bladder at some point, too, but… there was no stain that he could see, and he elected to believe that what he didn’t see, didn’t happen. He was not looking forward to the cleanup, but other things took priority- namely seeing to his own safety. Ayko prided himself on his pragmatism, and even the shame and discomfort of having crapped himself couldn’t overwhelm that. With a groan, he finally stood up. He very nearly came crashing back down on his shaking legs, but a stumbling step forward helped him to reorient. With a quick inspection, Ayko verified that all his body parts were still attached, and nothing inside felt broken. Inspecting the surroundings, he saw beach, jungle, ocean, then more beach. The sun beat down on the place, its light and heat being reflected by the sand. But, at the very least, he was not seriously injured, and there were no predators in sight. That meant he could now attend to his other needs. Once again, he reached a hand back and felt the mess he’d made in his trousers. He looked around for a rock or something to take cover behind when he undressed to wash. He may have been on a deserted island, but his sense of decency barked in his mental ears that he mustn't be visible during the process. Hiking up his pants a bit, remaining stone-faced at the further unwanted contact this brought between his mess and his skin, he set off. A tall, tan stone stood just a bit further down the shore, towering maybe fifteen feet in the air. It would do nicely, for all he needed out of it. His steps towards it were wobbly and weak, each one threatening to be the last, but Ayko was no slouch. He was very thin, and shorter than most, often giving the impression that he was frail and weak, which couldn’t be further from the truth. Hidden by his clothes and deceptive frame was a lithe and powerful body, more than capable of making the trek. Once he stood in the shadow of the massive stone, he suddenly realized how dearly he’d longed for the shade. The oppressive heat of the sun had probably baked his already-dark skin until it was charcoal black. Before he began the laborious process of disrobing, he simply stood there, enjoying the relative chill, and wiping the sweat from his forehead. His white hair hung wetly in front of his face, similarly bathed in sweat. Once he’d had his break, he hooked his thumbs into his trousers, and slid them down. He was stuck with only one pair of underwear and one pair of pants, so he really needed to make them count. Using the seawater and sand to wash and scrape away all traces of his accident, his clothes were nearly returned to their former splendor. What he, to his chagrin, could not wash away was the considerable stain that had formed on the seat of both garments. The back of his baggy, green pants was splotched with a large, round discoloration. It could be convincingly explained away by saying that he’d had nothing but dirt to sit on, but the same stain on his undergarments was untenable. With any luck, he’d be able to ditch them before anyone had a chance to see. For the time being, though, he really needed to cover up his lower body, and he knew from past experience how… unpleasant his chosen trousers could be when worn without underwear. He slid both of the seawater-soaked garments back on, choosing to focus on the welcome chill of the water, rather than what had been in them moments prior. ------------ Two hours of walking, two hours of being cooked alive in the sun that just refused to set, and Ayko still saw no trace of a settlement, or of any kind of civilization. The island seemed rather large and resource-rich, so it would make an attractive location for a port. Surely some kingdom would have left him a friendly fishing village to take refuge in. But with every step, he became more certain that it was a waste of time. The sun would set sometime, and he wanted to have a shelter before then. In the meantime, he was relying on the juices of tropical fruits to keep him hydrated. Lucky for him, the food was plentiful enough. On many of the trees, a peculiar fruit that was blue and green in color dangled. After some very careful testing for edibility, Ayko determined that they were, indeed, safe to eat. Accepting the small blessing, Ayko happily wolfed down several of the fruits, and carried some more along with him for later. A weapon wouldn’t hurt, either, He thought, as he changed course and made for the dense jungle. Ayko had been trained from his childhood to carry and use several weapons, and he’s grown so accustomed to it that not having a sword at his side or a bow on his back caused him more discomfort than having “““Sand””” in his pants. He frequently found himself clutching at the space where the hilt of his sword normally rested. In his homeland of Noraith, the beasts were savage and plentiful; so much so that his people only learned of a massive invading army from the west when they found their bones in the wilderness. War-brothers and war-sisters, who defended their lands, were essential to their way of life. “Swords for men; spears for monsters,” were their words, beaten into the hearts and minds of all who carried weapons in defence of Noraith. Despite his youth- being only 19- Ayko was an esteemed war-brother, and a skilled slayer of beasts. He longed to have his spear once again, so it could serve as his ambassador to whatever creatures called the isle home. In the hopes of crafting some sort of replacement, he began searching for a strong but thin branch amongst the enormous trees. He longed to have his war-sister by his side again, as well. Nyra was as dependable as they came. Strong and fierce, she was a capable fighter by any metric, but Ayko valued her mostly for her ability to speak. She could prattle incessantly about anything, which more than compensated for the fact that Ayko himself rarely spoke, and did not enjoy speaking. conversation with his war-sister came naturally enough to him, but he detested having to practice the art of speech with almost anyone else. If there was one good thing about being trapped on a deserted island, it was that Ayko’s lack of social skill meant nothing. Fixing his grip upon a sturdy branch, he pulled hard until it snapped free. Although… A thought struck him, Nyra would’ve laughed until nightfall if she saw me soil my drawers. A few test-thrusts of his new soon-to-be-a-spear later, he was hunting for a rock he could use to sharpen it. Suppose it wouldn’t be the first time for either of us, though. The glint of a small, glassy rock a little larger than fist caught his eye. When that scorpius stung her, she was bedridden for days, and spent most of that time shitting herself. He brought another rock down, smashing open the glassy one, providing him with knife-like slivers. Then the first time I fought a worg… mauled me almost to death before she dragged me away from it. Wet myself then. He found a downed tree to sit upon, and brought the glassy rock’s edge to the branch, carving it into a spear. Of course, Nyra had been poisoned and couldn’t control herself. I got clawed and chewed on so much I was nearly killed. Never gone on myself just because my nap ran too long, before. Sharpening, sharpening, sharpening. Absolutely never soiled myself, before. He was dwelling on it too much. What happened, happened, and he decided he didn’t need to justify it or shame himself for it. No one had even seen it, which meant it might as well have never happened at all. ------------ By nightfall, Ayko had established… something. It was a ramshackle little tent constructed out of leaves and vines, then propped up with a tall stick. He was not very knowledgeable of the flora that surrounded him, being more comfortable in the temperate lands of Noraith, but he made do. The jungle plants had long, wide leaves that made the construction easy enough. Had he any more energy in his body, he would’ve erected traps around the shelter, but exhaustion was an irresistible enemy- he would collapse whether he was in the tent or not. Once inside his new abode, he fell asleep immediately with spear in hand. Visions of his misfortune taunted him in his dreams. The storm, the fire, the boat, then almost drowning. It was all there, but even in the dream it was blurry, and missing pieces. There was fire simply because he remembered a fire, thus the dream ignited the ship. There was nothing new to be seen, only a mockery of his cruel fate. His dreams were interrupted as a sharp sound awoke him. A crunching, of leaves and twigs. Something was approaching. His senses shook off the stupor of sleep quickly, and he was not happy with what he detected. The approaching steps were heavy, big. Even grizzly bears knew to step with more grace than whatever thing was coming. His tent was constructed of sticks and leaves, but it in no way blended in. The thing would most certainly spot his hiding place, and, from the sounds of its movement, smash it to bits. He had no choice but to emerge and face it. With a guttural and beastial cry he charged out into the night, thrusting his spear forward, though came to an abrupt stop just before striking a young man. He looked to be about Ayko’s age. His skin was pale, and his unkempt, windblown brown hair was just long enough to reach past his ears. He wore a torn, white nobleman’s shirt, a tan vest, and matching tan pants. The man was visibly exhausted, and his eyes were wide with fear. His tan pants bore a large wet splotch right at his groin. The stain only reached partway down his thighs, so at least he’d regained control shortly into his wetting, for whatever that was worth. “P-please, sir… ” He began in a quivering voice, “Help me.” Before Ayko could ask what he meant, the thunderous footsteps returned, much closer than before. The young noble froze with dread as the sound drew near, and a loud hissing filled the air. The stain at his groin rapidly expanded, and the darkness spread throughout the fabric of his pants. Steam billowed from his accident, but he hardly seemed to notice. He slowly turned to face towards the approaching enemy, still peeing on himself. By Ayko’s own reckoning, the noble was hardly possessed of any constitution worth speaking of, but even he was somewhat shaken by the terror this enemy inspired had inspired in the poor young man. He lifted his spear, ready to face this opponent, be it beast or man. But Ayko was not prepared for the monster that emerged from the jungle growth. It was a mass of purple tentacles, within which was buried the mangled approximation of a man. It stood on discolored legs; two pairs of long, slender arms with clawed fingers flexed with anticipation; just barely visible through the writhing mass of tendrils was an inhuman face with fiery eyes. The young noble whimpered in fear, and even Ayko felt himself shudder as a chill washed over him. He was afraid. It was not a familiar sensation for him. In front of him, the noble continued to whimper and shake. A tent appeared suddenly in the seat of his pants, and a brown stain followed. The bulge grew as he continued to fill his underwear. Now beholding the creature for himself, Ayko did not think less of him for his incontinence. Pushing past him, Ayko readied his spear. Although he seriously doubted the efficacy of a sharpened stick against some unknown terror such as the one in front of him, war-brothers were not known for backing down. “Stay behind me,” he commanded the frightened man. If he even heard the order didn’t matter, as he was paralyzed with fear. With the speed and savagery of a feral animal, the creature dove for Ayko. With a swift backstep and thrust of his spear, he turned the monster’s attack into his own. Fortunately for him, the thing seemed to feel pain just fine, as it howled at the stab wound. Seizing the opening, he stabbed once again, then jumped back. The monster swung its long, spindly arms in wide arcs, not leaving a space for him to move in. It charged him once more, but this time Ayko was just slightly too slow. He stabbed the thing in the chest again, but its long claws dug into his arm, and now it was his turn to cry out in pain. It grappled onto him with its many arms and tentacles, and began to pull him in. Once more, the cold chill of fear filled his heart. Following his instincts, he managed to shake one arm free, and used his fingers to gouge the creature’s eyes. It released him with a gurgling noise, giving him time to retrieve his spear. With all the precision he could muster, he rammed the spear between the monster’s now bleeding eyes, and it finally collapsed. Ayko took deep breaths, relieved that the fight was over. “Is it… dead?” The young noble asked, in his refined-yet-shaking voice. Ayko answered by prodding the body with his spear. The tentacles still twitched and writhed, but the body was still. “Seems so.” The noble let out a long breath, then said, “I thank you, sir. I surely would’ve been killed if I hadn’t run into you. My name is James.” He extended his hand out for a shake. “Ayko,” he replied, hesitantly shaking James’ hand. “Ayko, I’m afraid I’m going to need to ask for more of your help. I don’t really know the first thing about surviving somewhere like this, and it… well, it certainly seems that you do.” “You want me to help you escape, correct?” James smiled, “Indeed! I can reward you, once we get back home!” Ayko wasn’t extremely interested in whatever reward this fellow could offer him, but he was quite interested in escaping this nightmarish island. “Deal.” “Oh! Very good!” James was taken by surprise, perhaps more used to people trying to take as much as they could get from him. “I’m a noble from an esteemed house in Korla, so I could get you a prestigious position, or just a sum of gold… ” As the man prattled on, Ayko largely tuned him out. The gold could help his clan secure armaments, but otherwise nothing he was saying was of interest. What did fully steal his attention was the warmth that resided in the seat of his pants. Once again, his bowels had emptied themselves into his underwear. The soft mess pressed against his butt and filled out the back of his underwear. He wondered if he had lost control of himself during the fight, but no, he was positive he had just gone that very second. Now he needed to clean himself again, and he would rather his new companion not know that. “James,” He intoned, interrupting the noble, “For the time being, perhaps you should see to your… ahem, pants?” James looked down at the large wet streaks down his legs, and with one hand cupped the bulge at his rear, “Ah. Perhaps you are right… ” He blushed intensely. Ayko sighed, and did his best to pretend that he didn’t need to do precisely the same thing, “Go clean yourself, I’ll be here when you’re done.” “Right!” He turned to leave, but looked back once more, “And once again, thank you, Ayko. I owe you my life, my friend.” Ayko silently nodded, though he did appreciate the man’s gratitude. Once he was gone, Ayko, too, departed the makeshift camp to clean himself. He did not know why his bowels had voided without warning, and it concerned him quite a bit. But, relative to everything else, this inexplicable incontinence was… tolerable. It certainly was not as bad as being stranded on a dangerous, uncharted island. And, at the very least, he wouldn’t have to make this journey alone, now.
  15. Here's something new I've been working on. A more innocent and relatively lighthearted story, while still having lots of fear accidents. Hope you enjoy! “Run! Run!!” Valery screamed to her friend. It took all of her willpower to wait a second and ensure Morgan had begun to flee, before starting her own flight. An arrow whistled through the air, sailing just by Valery’s ear before embedding itself into the dirt road. Behind the pair, the vicious snarling and howling of a pack of gnolls filled the air, along with a light hail of arrows and thrown spears. Valery heard a metallic clang, and felt something strike the back of her breastplate. She gasped sharply, fearing the worst, but when she didn’t fall over dead, she figured her armor must’ve actually saved her. She blinked away tears, and choked back the bile in her throat, concentrating only on outrunning the gnolls. Beside her, the young mage was clearly struggling to keep up. Morgan was never particularly fit, and as terrible as this little exercise was to Valery, she knew it must’ve been ten times worse on Morgan. Additionally, Morgan had no armor, meaning when one of these arrows hit the target, Morgan was a goner. Valery quietly cursed the fact that she was the only one of them with any protection, “Do not stop running, no matter what!” It seemed like Morgan needed no convincing, but Valery slowed her own pace down, until she was just behind the mage. Though it was hardly what she wanted to focus on, the sudden foul smell she detected as soon as she was behind her friend was difficult to ignore. She could hardly blame her, though; there weren’t many good reasons to soil yourself, but this was absolutely one of them. She lifted her shield arm up, high enough to cover her own head and Morgan’s back. Sure enough, something slammed into it, and then something even heavier impacted the shield, nearly knocking the young fighter over. She quietly pushed away the mental images of what would’ve happened if she hadn’t moved to intercept the shots. Morgan stumbled a little. Her thin arms weren’t pumping energetically as she ran, more flailing wildly. Her rapid footsteps became uneven. Exhaustion was taking her, and in just a couple of moments, she would collapse. Valery’s muscles screamed in agony, as well. Another howl sundered the air, hurting her ears, but this one sounded distant. Strangely, what followed was quiet. The snarling had stopped. There wasn’t much time to think about the implications of it, as Morgan finally crumpled to the ground with a groan and a whimper. Out of options, Valery spun around, shield and sword ready. She would have to stand her ground and hope for a miracle. Except… it looked as though the miracle had already come. The gnolls were backing off, their terrifying hyena-like faces disappearing into the brush. Many of them still looked at the women, mouths watering and fangs bared, yet they still retreated. It finally dawned on her that the great howl a second ago was a command of sorts. Some sort of gnoll alpha had called them back. For what reason, she couldn’t even begin to guess, but it was exactly the miracle she needed. Valery fell down to the ground, landing on her rear, and panting heavily. She muttered prayer after prayer to the gods, thanking them for sparing the two. At some point during the ordeal, her hair tie had come loose, and her platinum blonde hair now hung messily down to her shoulders, and in her face. Her clothes were ripped and torn all over. Her brown pants (which she supposed would’ve been of more use to Morgan) were mostly undamaged, but her green tunic was falling apart, save for the bits covered by her cheap breastplate. Once she’d finally caught her breath, and the unpleasant odor of her friend’s accident had become intolerable, she got to her feet to check on the unconscious mage. Morgan had fainted, and showed no signs of stirring. Despite the terror and mortal peril they’d just endured, the dark-skinned mage looked more like she was sleeping soundly, without a care in the world. Her long black hair had a bunch of leaves in it, and she needed to change her underwear, but otherwise she looked downright peaceful. Her blue robes covered her accident pretty well, too. When enough of her strength had returned, Valery scooped up her best friend, and continued their trek to the town of Far Haven. Though it was a comment she planned to keep to herself, she had to admit that Morgan was heavier than she looked, and she had to keep herself going by either convincing herself that it was just exercise, or else imagining what would happen if the gnolls returned. After some time, her legs were about to give out, and she had no choice but to find a place to rest. She settled upon a small clearing in the trees, just off the road. She set down her friend, then made sure to lay her magic staff and backpack down beside her. Valery carefully set her own equipment down, and then proceeded to collapse face first onto the ground. She savored every second of the nothingness; no monsters, no running, no imminent death. It was bliss. She wasn’t sure how much time had passed when Morgan finally began to awake. Valery got to her feet quickly, to make sure her friend was unharmed. “Mmmmm, Val?” She groaned in a timid, trepidacious voice. “I’m here,” She crouched next to her, “Don’t worry, it’s over, we’re safe.” “We are?” The mage sounded incredulous, “How? What happened?” “You fainted. I covered you, and then the gnolls just left. It was nothing short of a miracle… ” Morgan reached a hand over and clasped her shoulder, “Don’t be modest. You saved my life, didn’t you?” She was asking a question, but the look of gratitude and admiration on her face made it clear she already knew the answer. “W-well, I mean… ” Valery stammered out, blushing, “Maybe a little.” “Thank you, Val,” Morgan leaned forward, and wrapped her arms around her. After everything the day had thrown at them, the hug was almost too much, and Valery felt tears threatening to emerge. Once the hug ended, and Morgan fully sat upright, her smile vanished instantly. “Oh, um. Oh no… ” “What’s wrong?” The mage seemed to shrink in embarrassment, wiggling her thighs gently, “Ummm, It’s just… I think I may have, uh, messed my pants.” Oh right. Forgot about that, Valery thought, That lovely, tender moment… interrupted by messy panties... Blushing from the sympathetic, secondhand humiliation she felt, the fighter averted her eyes and said, “Oh, yeah, I think that you did. Um, I think it happened while you were passed out, and you know, I’ve heard that it’s pretty common for people to do that when they faint. So don’t even worry about it!” She figured that the accident would seem less embarrassing if it had happened while she was unconscious, rather than while she was fleeing in horror. A little white lie to maybe make her friend feel better. Morgan still looked distraught, and more than a little ashamed at herself. “I didn’t help in the fight at all, I passed out, and then I pooped myself while you carried me to safety… I’m sorry… ” “Hey now,” Valery responded with a gentle voice, “It was a bad day. If I’d had anything to eat or drink beforehand, you better believe I’d need a change of pants, too. Besides, there wasn’t much of a ‘fight,’ remember? I was running, too.” The mage once again looked at her with gratitude. It made her heart flutter. Valery was pretty sure that Morgan didn’t know about her preference for women, rather than men; and was thus sure that her feelings for her closest friend were known only to herself. When Morgan collapsed, the only thing she felt was the urge to protect her, no matter the cost. When she… soiled herself, she felt sympathy for her, not disgust. “We still have our pack, right?” The mage asked, as she gingerly stood in an attempt to not agitate her mess any further. “I believe I packed some spare underwear.” “Yeah,” she turned and opened the pack, but her search was interrupted. “Ah! Valery!” Morgan shouted, hands covering her mouth. “What?! What?!” In reply, Morgan stepped behind her, and gripped… something. She jerked on her armor, then walked back around to her front. “Did you not notice this?!” She was holding an arrow, which had been lodged in the back of her chestplate for hours. Valery could only laugh an empty, exhausted laugh. ---------------------------------------------------------- Not much later, Morgan washed herself off in a nearby river, while Valery waited close by. She wasn’t close enough to stare, but close enough to hear if anything went wrong. As she waited for the mage to finish up, she reflected on the last few days. Contract work for adventurers was drying up all the time, the two had been working with dwindling coin reserves for months. At last, there’d been a ray of hope in the distant town of Far Haven, established across a long stretch of unexplored wilderness, teeming with beasts. The town was meant to serve as the first of many settlements in uncharted territory, but was almost immediately overwhelmed by the monsters surrounding it. And so, back by the treasuries of a dozen interested kingdoms, they put out a call for adventurers, warriors, wizards, and everyone else to journey there, and deal with the threats. They promised more contract work than anyone had ever seen. Of course, they’d also promised that the trip there would be safe, and that went poorly to say the least. But still, it was their best hope to make a living. With night nearly upon them, Valery wanted to at least make it out of the woods before they stopped to camp. As soon as Morgan finished cleaning herself up, it would be time to get a move on.
  16. Note: I’m very aware that if you’ve watched Steven Universe this doesn’t make a lot of sense character or lore wise, I just really like Garnet's design and wanted to do this. So if you’re looking for something that is kinda canon, this isn't it. I do hope you can enjoy it regardless and thanks for reading! Somewhere within an icy mountain, a beam of blinding light blasted up from a circular stone deep within one of it’s twisting caverns. The cavern walls sparkled like crystals as the light reflected on the ice that covered them. As the shimmering light began to fade away, in it’s absences a large woman appeared upon a circle stone that sat in the cavern, serving as a form of transport. The woman was over six feet in height and had a strange large cube shaped afro. Her body was covered in a skintight black and crimson bodysuit that almost looked vacuumed sealed to her skin. Through the suit one could easily see a well maintained physique, complete with a chiseled abs and powerful arms. Her lower half was as impressive as her top, being quite voluptuous with her buttocks being as large and wide as her cubic hair, complete with equally large and powerful legs. She stood with a commanding and powerful pose, her hands resting at her hips. She appeared to be scanning the area she just warped to, but you couldn't tell by looking at her, as her eyes were covered by a large glossy visor and her large lips form a straight line, giving little expression or insight into what she was thinking. This imposing woman was known as Garnet, the leader of the rebellious space group known as the Crystal Gems. The Crystal Gems fought for peace and freedom in the galaxy, against an oppressive regime that sought to destroy them. Unfortunately they were not a very large rebellion, so they needed every advantage they could get, which was precisely why Garnet was in a cold desolate cave. Somewhere with it was a powerful crystal known as the Shooting Star which had the ability to cause unbelievable destruction upon the slightest pressure. It would be an invaluable tool against their enemies and Garnet was determined to leave with it in her hands. Usually Garnet was accompanied by a couple of her allies on her missions to obtain rare space artifacts but unfortunately her comrades were busy with another pressing situation today that required more than 2 hands, so naturally Garnet was nominated by her teammates to take the solo mission. After all, she was their cool, calm leader and arguably the most powerful member in the group. Or at least that's what her teammates thought. However the truth of the matter was really quite different then it seemed. To her teammates, Garnet was like an immovable object. It seemed like nothing could phase her, and her physical form really helped sell the idea. She could always rise to the occasion, and do what needed to be done. Unbeknownst to her allies was that it all was a facade, held together by a few lies and lucky situations. Her teammates often paraded her for tactical retreats or finishing off powerful enemies but they were nothing more than running scared and keeping away from monsters until they were too weak to hurt her. Doing this she was able to avoid a lot of shame and humiliation of her true self being revealed. Now that she was on her own she had nothing but herself, no allies to hide behind, or impress. It was simply her, and whatever this cave had in store for her. As Garnet began walking down the long cold twisting cavern, one could quickly see her powerful exterior seemed to melt away. Her head darted around looking for danger, her mouth no longer made a stern face but instead a nervous pout. Her nerves were on edge more than usual. Much to Garnet's relief the ice tunnel was very bare, only populated by icicles and mounds of snow. If she was lucky, she just might be able to get out of this with no issues and appear to be the fearless leader her teammates knew her to be, but this fantasy didn’t last for long. As she ventured deeper into the cavern she soon ran into a major obstacle. She had reached a dead end. The pathway was blocked with a thick sheet of ice and no way around. Garnet let out a frustrated sigh. Of course it couldn't be that easy. Not wanting to return empty handed Garnet put her hands into a fist and light began to admit from them. Within a few seconds both her hands were equipped with large bulky power gloves. She pulled back her arms and began wailing on the ice wall, striking it with all her strength. Unknown to Garnet, with each of her powerful strikes, a few icicles above her began to loosen, inch by inch with each punch. The ice was taking very visible damage, cracking at her repeated point of impact. Winding up one final time, Garnet unleashed an extra powerful punch, shattering the ice wall before her. However the impact from the punch was too much for the icicles above her. The icicles fell down around Garnet, smashing on the ground, much to her surprise. She let out a high pitched shriek as they landed, stumbling backward to get out of the way of danger. Her knees buckled and her mind went into a sort of panicked state. She didn't immediately notice the icicles so her mind raced with possibilities, mostly the fear of a monster attacking her. Suddenly fearing for her life Garnet's body let out an involuntary bladder spasm.Quick spurts of hot urine shot out, landing in her bodysuit, dampening her crotch. By the time Garnet regained her composure and noticed how nonthreatening the source of the sound was it was far too late for her bodysuit. A very noticeable baseball sized piss stain now adorned the front of her suit. Garnet bit her lip, immediately feeling ashamed of her body's lack of control. Usually she was able to avoid small wettings like this, but it seemed being solo was really messing with her. For a moment she considered turning back but decided to push on, hoping the stain would dry out before she had to head back. As Garnet progressed deeper into the tunnels it appeared to just be more for the same. Sheets of ice, thick cold walls, and dangerous icicles. On her third round of falling icicles and a few more close calls controlling her bladder, Garnet was just about ready to call it, but before she could make her decision, Garnet's worst fear about the solo mission began. As she approached another sheet of ice she needed to get through she saw something she hadn't seen with the last few sheets. She saw something behind it. At first the woman just thought it was a large ice crystal. She had seen a few on her way here but this one seemed different. Although she could just make out its silhouette through the ice, it was much wider than her and even a few feet taller. She wound up her first to break through the ice sheet once more but right before she could she was taken back by something. The silhouette moved. Garnet stumbled back from the ice sheet, letting out an audible gasp. She readied her fists for a fight, but her body was visibly shaking. Fighting a monster was the last thing she wanted to do on her own, without any backup from her team. From behind the sheet of ice two massive clawed hands crashed through it. The claws tore down the ice sheet, faster than Garnet could even imagine smashing it down with her fists. Out from behind came a massive ice monster, with a large sharp icicle filled mouth and hollow cold empty eyes. It took one look at Garnet and let out a shrill shriek. She wanted to run, but her legs wouldn’t move, she was frozen in fear. Without waiting a second the ice monster bolted towards Garnet, slashing one of its giant claws at her. The threat of harm snapped Garnet out of her fear a bit, and she stumbled back out of the way, its claws inches away from her body. Her bladder spasmed again, her baseball sized urine stain quickly turning into the size of a basketball. Garnet could feel the warmth of her urine spreading down her thighs and around her lower buttocks, the heat emphasized by her cold location. Before she could even try and retaliate back at the beast, it quickly charged back at her, once again taking her by surprise. Garnet prepared to dodge the monster's slashes again, but instead of swinging at her like she anticipated it kept charging at her, it’s arms wide open, ready to grab her. Barely able to react in time, Garnet locked her hands with the creature's large claws, stopping its assault momentarily. Garnet tried to overpower the ice monster trying to push it down, but the monster simply pushed back with great strength she could muster, slowly sliding her back. To make matters worse Garnet was now face to face with the monster, staring it right down. Naturally, the monster showed no emotion but the one it could, furiosity. It’s large sharp mouth widened upon seeing Garnet up close, roaring with such force her hair blew back with its strength. Garnet on the other hand could not match its enthusiasm. Her lips were quivering in a large frown and behind her visor her eyes were staring to well up with tears. Sweat dripped from every part of her body as she began to have doubts she could handle herself for much longer.This monster was downright terrifying to Garnet and with no one to back her up it was safe to say she hadn't felt this scared before. As the monster kept pushing her back, Garnet's bladder completely betrayed her. Urine shot out of her like a rocket, soaking whatever part of her bodysuit wasn't already stained with piss. Once the lower half of her suit was completely soaked and unable to hold any more urine it started to gush through it, loudly splattering all over the cold ice floor. A sizable puddle began growing beneath her as steam started to rise from the ground as her warm urine started to mix with the cold air of the cave. Garnet pathetically tried to control her bladder as it released its continents, slapping her thighs together, trying to ease the release, but she was powerless to stop it, but her body wasn’t done just yet. As her bladder was rapidly emptying, her rear began to let out gassy sputters. At first they were so quiet that Garnet didn’t even notice she was doing it, too distracted by her grown wet spot. Soon however the sputters stopped and her rear simply let out a loud rude noise, almost sounding like a large horn. Garnet's own fart took her by surprise, not just the sound but the strength of it as well. It made her flinch and her grip on the monster claws began to slip, and the ice monster took notice. The creature quickly overpowered Garnet, pushing her into a wall. Once she was cornered the creature quickly moved its arms around her, trapping her in a bear hug, crushing garnets arms to her sides. The ice monster dug its claws into Garnet's back and began to lift her off of the ground. As her feet began to dangle off the ground she squirmed trying to break free, but to no avail. Urine still poured from her crotch into a newly growling puddle below her but the stream was starting to slow up. Her rear however was just getting started. More loud gassy farts ripped past her cheeks and filled the cavern with their sound and unsavory smell. The more Garnet panicked and struggled, the more humiliating noises her butt made, until Garnet didn’t feel gas coming out, but something much worse. As the beast squeezed down on Garnet a large solid log of waste slowly made its way into the women's form fitting bodysuit. Garnet tried to clench her buttocks but it was too late as the log slid out, nested between her large butt cheeks doing little damage to her bodysuit at first. Garnet gritted her teeth at the gross feeling of her waste resting in her butt crack. Her face burned with embarrassment and tears finally began streaming down her face, but the ice monster wasn't letting up, as it continued to squeeze the pathetic woman with its arms. Garnet shrieked out in pain and fear as her butt let out another series of farts followed by another large leg of waste. This log collided with the previous log which pushed it in the opposite direction, this time making it’s way up her butt crack, uncomfortably stuffing every inch between her buttocks with her own mess. Her mess was still noticeable from the outside of her body suit which simply wasn’t digging into her butt crack anymore, but instead was comfortably laying on top of her mess without press against it, but Garnet wasn’t too focused on that. Garnet knew she needed to do something quickly or she wasn’t going to be around for much longer. Trying to stop crying for a second, Garnet mustered will power through her fear and humiliation and started to try and kick the creature with her dangling legs. Pulling her powerful right leg back she let out a powerful knee into the monster's body. The Ice monster let out a cry of pain and for a moment Garnet thought she had done the trick, but then the monster tightened its grip again. Garnet moved to knee the monster again but the movement strained herself too much. With no gassy warning this time her body released another large log of waste. The log quickly pressed past the previous two logs, finally pressing up against her bodysuit, visibly bulging it out. Another log quickly followed mashing against the rest of her mess, causing her suit to stretch out more and more, looking as if a large banana was underneath her suit, aligned with her butt crack, turning the middle of her suit a muddy soggy look. It was too much for Garnet. She tried to attack the creature again but she didn’t have the strength anymore. She was mentally humiliated and the strength of the monster's bearhug was just too powerful for her to deal with in her current state of mind. As one last log of excrement pushed its way out of her, her eyes began to glaze over and she blacked out. ……… Garnet wasn't too sure how long she was out for but was brought to by the taste of cold ice. The woman was laying face down on the floor, seeming to be dropped by the monster once she passed out. The second thing she noticed was that she had urinated herself even more. It seemed as she laid knocked out cold on the ground her bladder had emptied itself even further leaving a hard to miss large stain on the front of her body suit and a second large yellow puddle in the cavern. Of course the smell and the feeling of muck pressing between her butt and suit was hard to miss as well. It was a nightmare scenario for Garnet, and she couldn’t imagine it getting any worse, but it seemed the world had it out for her today. Garnet must have been gone for several hours at this point because no more than a few minutes after Garnet came to, she heard her name echoing through the walls of the cavern. It seemed that her allies had come to look for her. And from how it sounded, they were just around the corner. Garnet tried to stand up, but ended up slipping on a mixture of her own puddle and the icy floor, falling back into it, only able to bring herself to her knees safely. Soon her two teammates were looking upon her. One opened their mouth only to let out a gasp followed by cover her mouth, while her other team looked at her with a face of shock shortly followed by her also covering her mouth, but not out of shock, but to hide a snicker. Garnet felt another wave of humiliation poor over her, worse than before. Her terrible secret was out, and there was no going back. Her teammates simply looked upon her in her composed and pathetic state. She didn’t even try to stop the tears welling in her eyes this time, she only could hope her visitor would be enough to hide them this time so sure could keep at least a little dignity.
  17. I love Fire Emblem, and decided to write some fics about it. These are, for the most part, gonna be little bitesized one-shots with little-to-no continuity. While these stories are gonna be, like, 95% female-character-focused, there are a handful of male characters in Fire Emblem that I like for omo purposes, like Ashe and Robin. They also won't all be the same kinds of accidents. This first story is mostly centered around fear accidents, but I'm also planning to involve other types of accidents and desperation. Anyway, here's the first story, starring Bernadetta and Petra. Hope you enjoy it! For clarity, this is post-timeskip, the characters are age 20 or above. Why couldn’t I have gotten Hanneman or Manuela as my professor? Bernadetta thought miserably. She considered Professor Byleth a friend and confidant, without doubt, but she was also fairly sure that Manuela didn’t regularly take her class out to rout legions of bandits and deserters. Hiding, faking sickness, pleading to be allowed to stay in her room, nothing fooled nor persuaded the Professor. Though of course, now that war had engulfed the land, it wasn't as simple as just faking sick to get out of class. It didn’t help that she was the only skilled archer in Byleth’s retinue; she couldn’t stay out of the fight because her skills were explicitly needed. The added pressure did nothing to help Bernadetta’s malaise. “Bernadetta, something is the matter?” Came the elegant, if confused, voice of Petra. Frail and small as she was, the archer needed some protection, and Petra was selected to guard her. “Huh?” She looked at the taller woman, who appeared rather concerned, “Oh, uh, sorry. Just… ” “You have not been firing,” Cutting to the point, Petra gestured to Bernie’s bow. “Ah, r-right! P-please don’t be mad!” “Mad? I am not being mad,” She said in a soothing voice, “But the Professor may be.” Bernie went pale. Images of Byleth turning her wrath against the diminutive woman raced through her mind, chilling her to the core. “W-what?! Y-you don’t think she’d actually be m-m-mad, do you?!” The logical parts of her mind told her that Byleth would never hurt her, but the much larger paranoid section screeched that she was now in mortal peril. “Oh!” Petra realized that her wording had frightened her, “You should shooting… I mean, you should be, uh, aiding our allies,” The foreign woman stumbled a bit as she tried to piece the sentence together, “The Professor brought you for doing that, yes?” “Uh, yeah… ” “And you are good, yes? At shooting?” “Um, I guess… ” “Then don’t you want to be helping our friends?” Bernie swallowed, knowing there was only one right answer, “Yes… Let’s go.” ----- In a twisted, ironic sort of way, Bernie found the rigors of combat marginally less stressful than her daily life at the Monastery. There, she was constantly looking over her shoulder and trying to listen for plots to harm her. But on a battlefield, there was no paranoia. Everyone who wanted to hurt you was usually pretty open about it. Now, that’s not to say that she wasn’t absolutely terrified, because she was. Just that the added fear of the unknown was not present. Her heart racing, mind fueled only by adrenaline and instinct, she nocked and loosed arrow after arrow, turning a large group of bloodthirsty bandits into pincushions. Beside her, Petra dueled and defeated any ventured too close to the little archer. As worried as she was that her teammates would turn on her at any second, she had to admit that she did trust Petra. She didn’t seem to have a bad bone in her body. And it’s good that Petra was trustworthy, because she was a terrifying opponent. With speed and dexterity unlike anything she’d ever seen, the Brigid warrior nimbly dodged every attack and retaliated with deft and lethal blows. Once again, gory images of what would happen if she incurred the wrath of one of her friends came to her mind. She banished the thoughts quickly, but not before a spurt of pee dampened the crotch of her boyshorts. She clenched her thighs together slightly, but she knew it was only a leak. As timid and meek as she was, Bernadetta was… well-versed in the workings and failings of her bladder and bowels. She knew when it was just a light leak. She blushed as the slight heat caressed her groin, but she ignored it, and resumed her archery. It’s not as though the sensation was unfamiliar to her; almost any conversation with Hubert or Edelgard saw her retreating to her room with soggy shorts. “Just a little more, we’ve nearly won!” Byleth’s voice called through the trees and ramshackle bandit housing. Joy filled Bernie’s heart with the realization that soon, very soon, she’d be able to return to the comfort of her room. “Bernadetta!” Petra’s shouting startled the young archer, and she whirled around, only to be greeted by an axe-wielding man with a murderous glint in his eyes. Bernie screamed, and collapsed to the ground, landing on her butt. The bandit raised his axe, only for Petra to deliver a strong kick to his side, sending him reeling. In the blink of an eye, her sword was driven through his chest, ending whatever threat he posed. Bernie was stunned and motionless, having nearly fainted in fear. Her eyes told her that she’d been saved, but her brain was too terrified to process as much. It was her nose that finally got her attention, when a sharp, acrid smell drifted upwards. She glanced down, and saw that she was sitting in a rapidly growing puddle of urine. Steam rose upwards, carrying the scent with it. In the silence that took over the area, she could even hear the hissing as her pee spilled into her black shorts. The wetness and heat spread across her bottom, the pool expanding behind her and soaking into her skirt. The backs of her thighs were wet, the fabric of her shorts now clinging to her. Worst of all, Petra stood right next to her, watching the entire display. Tears stung her eyes, and began to flow down her cheeks. Ordinarily, her solitary and elusive nature meant that she was able to hide almost all of her accidents. “Oh my… ” Petra said simply. Bernie attempted to reply, but only produced a choked sob. “Bernadetta, it is okay. Did you hurt… Um, did you get hurt?” She shook her head. “Then there is nothing to be worrying about!” Petra smiled, and extended her hand, but Bernadetta just looked back down at the ground, and the cooling puddle of her own pee that she sat in. ----- Petra hated to see anyone in such a state. The princess of Brigid had a deeply compassionate heart, and she was determined to help her friend feel better. Even if meant resorting to… unconventional measures. Ensuring that Bernadetta was still focused on her own wetting, Petra closed her eyes tightly. She pushed and strained, struggling to overcome her instincts telling her not to piss her pants. Eventually, she won out, and felt hot urine stream into her panties. Even though she was doing such a humiliating thing to help out a friend, she saw no reason to go too far with it, and stopped herself after peeing just a little. “It is okay, Bernadetta. I… did, too,” Petra had strategically peed just enough that a few droplets slid down her toned thighs, leaving wet trails. “Y-you did? Were you scared, too?” The archer looked aghast. She wasn’t particularly scared, in reality. Sure, any fight was dangerous, but these guys weren’t exactly big fish. “Every fight is scaring to me,” she lied, “sometimes, I wet.” She lied through her teeth. The elegant princess of Brigid had never wet nor soiled herself in combat before, and the sensation of damp, clammy panties was agonizingly shameful and uncomfortable. She wondered if she might burn her underwear once they returned to the Monastery. “Wow… Um, I didn’t know that,” She seemed to be more shocked by the false revelation than her near death experience. At the very least, Petra intentionally wetting herself hadn’t been for nothing- her friend had stopped bawling. “Um… Please do not… Uh, I won’t tell any of the-” Petra struggled to find the correct words, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell if you don’t.” “Ah, yes. Thank you.” Suddenly, Bernadetta had become the comforting one. Once again, she extended her hand, and this time Bernie accepted it, and was helped to her feet. Once more, she looked ruefully at her drenched shorts, and patted her behind to feel the soaked fabric of her skirt. Even though it was black, it was quite obvious what she’d done. She was considering a solution to help her hide the accident when a bandit stumbled into sight from the treeline. The bandit was a woman, and she looked behind her with a sly smile, but jumped back when she spotted the two. “You’re kidding me? More of you?!” She said, “You’re not taking me!” It seemed she’d lost her nerve and tried to flee when Byleth and the others cleared out her group. Her pants were wet. A fairly natural reaction to facing Byleth in combat. Petra drew her sword and prepared to finish off the bandit. Behind her, Bernadetta raised her bow. Either one of them was more than a match for the bandit, and it seemed she knew it; her legs were shaking. But their short battle was not meant to be. A low but loud growl emanated from the woods behind the bandit. She spun around to see the source, and Petra noted with some concern that the seat of the bandit’s trousers bulged and sagged suddenly. “Oh, forget this!” She shouted as she sprinted away. Seconds later, a colossal demonic beast surged through the trees, knocking many of them down. It was some sort of enormous, gray, stone-covered lizard. It roared with monstrous vigor, and Petra could feel her heart skipping. Her breaths quickened, and numbness shot through her body. It was a monster of pure malice. She wanted to move, to speak, to fight, to do anything, but she was frozen. Wetness flooded her groin, and she glanced downwards to notice a dark spot on the front of her tight skirt. It spread swiftly, and after a couple of seconds, streams of pee spilled from under her skirt. It splashed messily to the ground, sprinkling her legs with urine. Her pee made a sharp hiss as it spilled into her panties; this time she had truly wet herself in fear. No… She’d done even worse than that. Her panties sagged, and drooped low between her legs. Her bowels had voided in her fright, as well. Unable to expand far thanks to her tight skirt, her mess went downwards. Petra knew that her clothing left little to the imagination, and it most certainly did little to hide the bulge she felt certain was there. At the very least, her release was almost entirely solid, and wouldn’t stain very badly. It still didn’t make her feel any better about having soiled herself, too. In front of Bernadetta, too. She felt she now understood her friend’s misery when she wet herself. “P-Petra… What do we do?” Bernie’s voice shook with fear. Petra inhaled deeply, desperately wanting to steel her nerves, “... Fight.” ----- True to her earlier advice, Petra had had an accident out of fear. Bernadetta once again could hardly believe her eyes when she noticed that Petra had crapped herself. Even with a load in her underwear, she still moved with the grace and poise of an apex predator. The reptilian beast lunged at her, massive claw swiping. Only barely, Petra leapt backwards. Taking the opening, she slashed at one of its forelegs, leaving crimson gashes. While it was focusing on Petra, Bernadetta had time to line up a few shots. Fighting through the trembling of her limbs, she loosed an arrow, which buried itself in the hide of the monster. It grumbled lightly. Another arrow. Another. Another. Another. She began firing arrows as rapidly as possible. Eventually, the beast had had enough of it, and raked the ground, sending a shower of large rocks right at Bernie. With a shrill scream, she dove out of the way. Standing back up, she reached for her bow, only to find it absent. Looking around in a panic, she saw it several yards away, partially covered by thrown rocks. A vicious growl called her attention back to the beast, which was focused entirely on her, ignoring Petra. The arrows must’ve hurt more than she realized. Staring into the soulless, hateful eyes of the beast, Bernadetta became totally paralyzed with dread. Her body relieved itself of everything left in it, and a wet squelch was audible just before she felt her mess spill into her boyshorts. It swiftly crumpled up against her rear, forming a large, wet ball. The sensation of wet clay spread across her butt. The elasticity of her underwear and shorts let her release create a large bulge that pressed up against her pee-soaked skirt. As she continued crapping her pants, she could feel her shorts getting tighter to accommodate the release. There was a final squish as she finished soiling herself, and the load settled into her underpants. The beast drew closer, preparing to strike, when a voice rang out: “Get down!!” It wasn’t Petra’s. It was an authoritative but respectable voice. A voice that, even through her extraordinary terror, Bernie obeyed. She ducked, and only a second later a swipe of Byleth’s whip-sword flew over her head, striking the beast in the face. It reeled in pain as the blessed Sword of the Creator burned its flesh. Byleth followed up with a direct assault, charging forward and striking the beast over and over. Petra joined in. If Petra was a frightening enemy, then Byleth was a force of nature- unstoppable and invincible. With skill and speed, the two made short work of the monstrosity. It collapsed, lifeless. “Are you two all right?” “Uuh, I… We… ” Still in shock, Bernie could hardly speak. “We are not harmed,” Petra answered for her, “Thank you for the saving- er, thank you for saving us, Professor.” With a couple of sniffs, and an informative glance at the wet skirts both of them wore, Byleth quickly deduced that they were in need of a change. She didn’t say anything, but she fixed both of them with a sympathetic look. “Um, it came out of the woods, from nowhere, and it was terrifying, and I just kind of… ” Bernadetta trailed off. The smell in the air told the rest of the story. “The same for me,” Petra intoned, blushing deeply. Byleth put her hands on her hips, “I’ll keep the rest of the class here a bit longer. You two can run ahead of us so you get back to Garreg Mach first. Get cleaned up.” “Oh, thank you Professor!” “Quite, thank you!” The two took their chance and ran for it, though both quickly decided to go a bit slower. Running with a load in their pants turned out to be rather unpleasant.
  18. Preface: I want to get better at writing so I want all of your constructive criticism, even if it's something minor like a comma in the wrong place, or annoying formatting. Be as harsh as you want. I'm pretty bad at proof reading. “Alright people! Ladies, gentlemen, and anyone i’ve missed,” screams a small, messy looking pasty man in John Lennon glasses into a radio mike, patched together with duct tape and sticks. “I don’t care whether you’re listening from your radio, your tv, your computer or your fucking smart fridge. This is old mate Tug Boat,” He sits in his messy studio surrounded by the budget versions of every piece of radio equipment, on his three year old $50 dollar office chair. “We don’t have the mic quality of the big stations, but Sheela and I have all the big hits, and that was Spirit of Radio by Rush.” His co host, Torres Strait woman, with an amazing hairdo barely held back by her headset cut in, from the other side of the clunky FM equipment on an old desk propped up by calculus textbooks. “And this is ya girl Sheels, and we have a very special guest for you tonight on Mystic 106.6,” She said, casting her eyes past the old studio equipment, and past the slowly degrading posters from prog rock concerts from the 80s, from before she, or Tug Boat, were even alive, to their guest. “Would you like to introduce yourself? Or should we take the honour” She said. The guest nodded, with a smile, “I kinda want to hear what you guys will say.” she said, sitting on the old ottoman the hosts dragged in from the foyer for her. Sheels and Tug Boat chucked, and shot each other nasty glances. “Oh man!” Tug began, “Sitting with us now is the woman of power, the booby brain lady,” Sheels and the guest chuckled nervously, “Member of The Victory Vixens, caster of Goddamn MIND BULLETS, the telekinetic titties, Miss Danger!” “Thank you for that, strange, strange introduction Tug, I don’t know whether to laugh or be offended.” Miss Danger said. “I should not be surprised though, I listened to your interview with Minister Geel, and the one with Dominique… the one with that rep from the Sex Party, and every other time you’ve embarassed yourself, ” she trailed off. “I love a guest who does their research!” Sheels said. “So, before we really get into it, are there any topics you don’t want us to delve into? And are there any things you want to bring up before we…” “Plug those depths!” Tug Boat cut in. “bring the conversation down to the sewers! Pretend to do investigative journalism,” “So,” Sheels said, “um. Start the conversation I was going to say.” “Sorry,” Tug Said, “I just got excited, I have so many questions, so many things I badly want to cover, and we don’t have that much time with you, do we?” Miss Danger took a deep breath leaned in to the mic, like she was the announcer in Chicago. “I guess, for all your listeners who live under rocks. I’m a super powered individual with telekinetic and psychic powers, I’m a core member of The Victory Vixens. I normally fight to protect the people of New Sydney, and do all I can to help Australia, and sometimes the greater world” “Did you practice that beforehand? Do you have that written down.” Tug asked. “I need it for like, school and workplace tours, and all the generic PR stuff I end up doing” “Wait, wait wait,” Sheels said, gesticulating frantically, trying not to laugh. Tug started laughing. “In your costume?” Sheels continued. “Like, at schools, in your costume? At schools? The Costume you’re wearing now?” Tug muted his mic and threw his head back laughing. It was a futile effort though, as the other mics in the studio picked it up. Sheels leaned in to her mic, put on a serious face, and calmly said. “For those listening at home, Tug just died, like, really dead. Like, I need you to stand facing the sunrise and play last post, died... He’ll be back in five, he needs to calm down.” She shot a sideways glance at Miss Danger, and let out a deep and windy sigh, “Yeah people, just like when we had The Legendary Hobo on.” She rolled her eyes. Miss, now seeing this strange radio dynamic play out in person suddenly put a few of the puzzle pieces. Tug clumsily stood up and stumbled out the recording studio knocking equipment and wires, as he shoved his fist in his mouth to stop the noise. He slammed the door behind him. “So I guess we start with the costume, then, Sheels.” Miss Danger said, nervously as she, more so than any of the other core Vixens, is a controversial figure, not for any material reason, or so Miss Danger thinks, it’s purely the pearl clutching wine mums, priests of this and that, who can’t handle seeing a bit of skin here and there… and there…. And there.... Tug’s laugh in the distance managed to overpower the sound proofing, and still picked up on the un-muted mics. Through the studio window Miss Danger saw a few tears appear at the edges of Tug’s eyes. “Now, because this is radio, and some people, who live under rocks, or in the past, or in other dimensions, or in their own world, or whatever the fuck else.... Or may be literally dead, may not have seen your costume, I’m gonna try my best to describe it.” Miss Danger smiled, “definitely better than Tug trying to. I think we both know what he’d spend his time talking about.” gesturing towards her chest. Tug still stood outside the studio, hand jammed in mouth, convulsing with laughter and going red. “Well,” Sheels said nervously. “They are like… right there.” A few seconds of awkward pause hung in the air. “Anyway, for those out in radio land, Miss Danger is in her costume right now, and if you haven’t seen it before, it’s like a white, one piece swimsuit. But it’s backless, sideless, with a neckline that goes almost all… all the way down. It’s got some arm bands, some epaulettes and a cute Hussar cape. So, Miss Danger. It’s a very extreme costume, compared to the rest of The Vixens, especially compared to Misha’s body armour and heavy shields.” “Well,” Miss Danger began, “Misha can’t fly or use psychic shielding. I need something lightweight to be able to fly properly, and if I have a psychic shield…” Miss Danger trailed off, and then paused and furrowed her brow for a moment.” casting her eyes around the studio, thinking about how truthful she wanted to be, she knows that anything she says on radio here will be listened to by possibly tens of listeners, maybe even dozens, to say nothing of on demand listening later down the line. What she says here, may indeed impact public perception of her, and may in fact reflect on The Victory Vixens on the whole. “Honey, you ok over there?” Sheels said, brows furrowing. “Yeah, I just had to do a big think for a moment.” Miss Danger said with a sharp smile, returning with a renewed confidence and vigor. “Honestly, the main reason, and in the spirit of you and Tug’s Show, I’m going to be blunt, and right to the point, and reach my arm right in to the sewer. (and by the way, I have a more conservative version of the costume when I’m at schools.) is I want to look, and feel sexy,” Tug burst back into the room and powered over to his decrepit mic and chair. “And girl, it fucking works.” “look good to feel good, healthy body begets healthy mind,” Miss continued “Aww,” Sheels sighed, “ and I thought we were going to have a civil discussion about something for once.” she sent a wry look at Tug. “That’s our bitch queen of the radio waves, being her normal self.” Tug responded. “Thanks Tug, really value your input.” Sheels winked. “Now I realised we didn’t do the proper intro. This show’s already off the rails, everything is already a nightmare, As often happens when Tug talks to normal humans. Are there any topics you don’t want us to talk about?” Miss Danger sat back on the old ottoman. “Look, I’m a long time listener, I know the kinds of things you bring up. I know the ACCC has issues with you. So let me say this. I’m not gonna talk political opinion, and I’m not gonna talk about that sort of stuff, but I’ll happily talk about the time I pooped myself on a date, the time I got trapped in Ouze, and other faux pas, also, how I came up with my costume.” she conceded: “ since we’re already on that topic.” Tug’s smile spread from ear to ear, and was threatening to leave his face entirely. “Oh, this is going to be perfect. This is exactly what I was after,” Miss wasn’t looking, but she was pretty sure that the degenerate radio host was standing to attention in his ancient cargo shorts. “Oh! That’s another reason why I chose this costume.” Miss Danger said, gesturing to her crotch. Sheels clicked a few buttons on her laptop and signalled something to Tug. Tug nodded. Tug started giggling like a bigger than normal idiot, adjusting his glasses “easy access for a cheeky post fight fuck?” “Mate, do I need to send you to the naughty corner?” Sheels said, angrily, sending the glare of the century in his direction, he just responded with a bit of a laugh. “Well, as a human being, I sometimes gotta pee. Sometimes I gotta pee real bad. Sometimes in a lull in a mission I gotta find a quiet rooftop and pop a super squat. I have the easiest costume in The Vixens to pee in.” “Fairo, girl.” Sheels said. “Those moments can be tough for us girls.” Tug leaned in to his mic, the smile still there, looking more sinister if anything. The women shot glances at each other, Miss; questioning, Sheels; apologetic. Tug began, “Do you, or any of The Vixens, ever like,” the smile went from sinister to curious. Legitimate concern flashed across Sheels’ face. Tug Finished, “not make it?” Concern changed to fear, Sheels butted in. “That’s right listeners, quality Mystic 106.6 content right here, talking about adult women having pee emergencies, and we’ll be right back after our guest’s first song. Wanna set this up hun?” “An old favourite from before I became powered, an old boyfriend got me on to; Steve Miller Band’s Fly Like an Eagle.” Sheels mashed enter and leaned back in her chair letting out a deep and meaningful sigh. “Fuck me. This is why we got a superhero on the show, to talk about whether she makes it to the toilet on time.” Miss Danger got a wry smile across her face. “I mean, this is cutting edge journalism.” “Fucking fuck me, for fuck’s sake” Sheels said, Miss Danger had no idea one of her favourite radio hosts had such a potty mouth. Sheels sank deeper into the budget office chair. Soon it’d be threatening to swallow her whole, like an Officeworks Kraken. “I mean, Have you heard of any other journalists who have talked about this topic?” Miss Danger said, “you two are the lead on this topic, breaking new journalistic ground.” “Ain’t it fucking exciting Queen Sheila?” Tug broke in, “we have an exclusive with booby brain lady about the normal lives of our great heroes. Humanising, and closing the gap between us and them. Showing the world how our inspirations are just like us, and suffer the same indignities as us, that there’s more to our heroes than costumes and otherworldly powers.” “Oh god I’m trapped in a room with two of them.” Sheels sank deeper into the Officeworks Kraken. “But, I guess that is a good point. Or maybe I’m just going insane. Booby…. Sorry, he’s rubbing off on me, Miss Danger, are you ok with this topic?” “Entirely. I knew what I was getting into when I came on this show. Do I have some stories for you. I appreciate your concern though, hun. Also, I think it’s a shame that the one time your boy Tug said something smart it was off air.” The three shared a good laugh. Sheels seemed to regain some life and win the fight against the Officeworks Kraken. “Ok people, we’re back on in thirty seconds. I’ll introduce the story, Tug asks the question again,” She glared at him, “more sensibly this time, and then it’s all on you Miss Danger.” her compatriots of the radio room both nodded. As the last few bars of the Steve Miller song faded out, Sheels mimed a five second countdown on her fingers. “Welcome back to Mystic, listeners to our tell all talk with Miss Danger. Sorry for the abrupt song break but Tug and I needed to confer with Miss Danger privately. Anyway, where we left off was a question from our esteemed Tug Boat, wanna set this up?” Tug ran his fingers through his hair, adjusted his glasses, made a big dramatic show of clearing his throat, and began. “Something I’ve always thought about, and I’m sure a number of our listeners think about as well, is ‘do our heroes ever have to deal with normal human shit?’ do you ever get parking tickets, burn your steaks, suffer breakups, or have embarrassing moments, like, say, pee-pee moments.” Sheels shot a shocked glance at Tug. Miss Danger started with a bit of a chuckle, as a nervous flutter entered her stomach, and she felt something lower down as well. “I’m here to tell your listeners that, yes on all counts, I’ve had bad break ups, got parking tickets, burned my food, and tying it back to before the song, peed my pants.” she began again, with nervous laughter. “In fact, that last one happens to me a lot more than it should, for a woman of my age. Like, I risk it whenever I laugh, get too drunk, and a few other situations. In fact, the stresses of the superhero life make it happen more than it used to.” Tug looked enthralled. “In fact, let me tell you the story from my first mission with the Vixens, and first mission in the costume. This wasn’t long after my powers had awakened, about two years back I would have been about 23. It was the battle of Sydney. Dominique, the lady with supernatural accuracy and I had been assigned to run defence on the harbour area while the main team drew the enemy force away from the city. Dominique sat perched on the Opera House, keeping an eye for any more of these aquatic bastards to turn up, I spent most of my time flying around the streets and the park area. Dommie and I idly chatted about a bunch of things, from Vixen life, to how our friends were doing, to my costume and her lack of costume.” Miss stuttered, “not to say she was nude, to say that she just wore normal ADF combat gear, as she was sort of our military attache. Anyway, so I flew over to Pinchgut Island, that little island in the harbour with the old timey fort turned pizza joint on it, and there was one of the bastards hiding. I notified Dommie, in fact, I think my exact words were, ‘we got an armoured fucker in the historic site hun!’ He was a big one, covered in rocks, chunks of boat, and coral. He’d been there for a while, as he was no longer dripping. I got his attention by telekenetic-ing a few chairs at him. He didn’t like that, and being a newbie, I didn’t notice his armament. He shot back. With some kind of thrown together shitcannon. Rapidly. Most shots bounced off the shield. One got me in the arm. I got flustered and worried, and I flew to hide on the other side of the building, the one on the Opera House side. I think my thought process was something like fuckfuckfuckfuck, i’m gonna die, i’m gonna die, fuckfuckfuckfuck.” Sheels said, “a fair enough feeling.” “ When I came back to my senses I heard a pitter-patter on the ground, I looked around to see where it was coming from, and then I looked down, and I saw it. The crotch of my costume was going bright yellow, a stream of fear was gushing from it, and a puddle of shame was forming around my feet. I glanced over to the opera house to see if Dommy had noticed my humiliation. If she did, she didn’t say anything. This was the worst day of my life, first mission with The Vixens and i’ve already showed them I’m a little pissy pants.” Miss Danger chuckled. “I wanted to wait at least until the post mission celebration to show them that.” Tug and Sheela laughed. “But I didn’t know this at the time, but it was about to get a whole, whole lot worse. While I was too focussed on peeing myself, the armoured bastard closed around the corner and opened fire again. This time the loud crack of firing shook me to my core, I flew away, fear still dripping from my yellowed crotch, and running down my thighs. I landed on the roof. Dommie kindly, and calmly asked me to try and make a hole in the armour, as she now had the beast in sight. By this point I was a real sight. Face bright red, tears in my eyes, pee stained costume, pee stained legs, and about to cry. But I mustered my last strength, and fueled by fear, I went airborne again, flew towards the big fucker, screaming in a combination of fear, rage, and humiliation. Using my left hand I grabbed for the fucker’s gun, and with the right, I tried to rip his helmet off. This must have looked funny to an outsider, I was a good ten meters away using telekinesis for both of these things. It took most of this second wind, but I got the helmet off, and the second I did, two bullets went into his head. Perfect. Dead centre. He fell over listless, dead. I felt a huge wave of relief, the worst experience of my life was over. I floated to the ground, still bright red, still on the verge of full on bawling. I landed, but my legs weren’t going to take my weight. I collapsed. There was a squish when I landed.” “You don’t mean?” Sheels said, emphatically. Tug just laughed. He looked like he was loving life right now. “A jolt of fear ran up my spine as I found the energy to stand again. Then I smelt it. Shaking and quaking, I felt the back of my costume. There it was, between my ass-cheeks, a big, solid, pile of evidence that I’m a terrified little mouse with telekinetic powers. My worst day got even worse. At that point, I just gave up, went in to foetal position on the ground and gave in to the fear. I began bawling my eyes out, made my costume even more yellow and brown. I must have passed out or something, because the next thing I remember is the rest of The Vixens helping me to my feet, and back to our base on Goat Island. So, listeners, remember, no matter how bad your first day on a new job was, mine was worse. “Thank you so much for sharing that story with us honey,” Sheels said, “That must have been hard to do. How did the rest of The Vixens take it?” “They were mostly really supportive, a few of them even shared their own similar stories. Though,” Miss Danger said with an embarrassed chuckle, “not one of them was as bad as mine. Not one of them involved crying your eyes out in a stew of piss AND shit.” She left a pause for comedic effect. “It was one or the other.” Sheels and Tug forced down laughter. “So let that be a lesson to all of you. Even superheroes cry, even superheroes feel fear, even superheroes sometimes even shit their costume. This is when I learned something about superheroes that makes so much sense when you think about it. All of The Vixens have like, five spares of their costume. Some are even kept in the team jet. You know, in case of damage... Or poop.” “Alright listeners,” Tug said, “we’ll be back after these short messages from our sponsors, feel free to call in on our number or text us questions for Miss Danger,”
  19. Many of you probably know Present's stories March of the Valkyries and The Conqueress. If you haven't read them, they're wonderful stories, full of messing and fear accidents. We've been collaborating on more stories set in this universe, featuring the character Ulrika. And, like it says in the title, there's some extra art by Livinginfinite at the end. Hope you enjoy! Virago Queen: Thunder “We’ll be arriving at the war camp within the hour, Your Majesty,” One of Ulrika’s royal guards informed her. “If all has gone according to plan, the fort should have fallen.” “That such a small obstacle has troubled us for this long is an embarrassment,” Ulrika responded coldly. A single, understaffed, lightly-armed Gothian fort had stalled a major military operation for weeks on end, and Ulrika had grown tired of the commander’s excuses. Redirecting a larger army, she intended to crush the fort into ruin on that very day. That army had been embattled with the fort since dawn, and should have achieved victory well before her arrival. God save them if they, too, have failed me, the queen thought bitterly. Along with a small contingent of royal guards, her assistant Iris also rode alongside her. The young lady was being her usual quiet, reserved self. Her face bore a somber, pensive look that Ulrika knew reflected Iris’ desire to be as far from the site of a battle as possible. She was a gentle soul, and appreciated being as far away from danger, and from the more gruesome side of nature as possible. The roar of distant thunder demanded Ulrika’s attention. For a moment, she thought it might’ve been cannonfire. Breathing a sigh of relief, she observed as a blanket of clouds released a deluge upon the land some ways away. Her bladder felt a kinship with the storm, and threatened to release its own deluge. She’d been riding for hours, and had not one opportunity to relieve herself. Certainly no opportunity presented itself where she could relieve herself without exposing her most closely held secret: the large diaper wrapped snugly around her waist. Ulrika had convinced herself that she’d be able to hold it until they arrived at the war camp, but she quickly lost faith in that plan. Even though they were so close, she knew that her generals could hardly wait to inundate her with meetings and discussions. It would be at least another few hours before she had a moment to herself. Exhaling in annoyance, the Virago Queen opted to release her hold then and there, and at the very least end one of her discomforts. Iris had ever proven to be a faithful and loyal confidant, and would be more than happy to change her later. With a sharp inhale, she let go. Almost immediately, the warmth of her piss flooded the front of her diaper. The hot urine filled the space between her thighs, and then reached her rear. She hated the sensation of it, but she couldn’t resist the blissful smile that came with the relief. The garment began to swell, and forced her legs apart ever so slightly. The queen’s bladder continued to empty itself, and she began to worry that it could leak. “The camp is just ahead, now, Your Majesty,” One of her escorts said. His announcement caught her entirely by surprise, and her stream of piss momentarily doubled in its intensity. “Ah, e-excellent,” Ulrika replied. She tried to remain stately and regal, but it proved difficult to do while she was actively urinating in her pants. “All of you, ride ahead and prepare them for my arrival.” “At once, Your Majesty,” With a hard spur of his horse, the guardsman took off, the others following closely behind him. At last, her bladder was empty. The diaper between her legs was swollen and soaking, and she feared it could leak at any moment. “Iris,” She said, in a commanding yet gentle tone. The young woman jumped slightly in surprise, “Y-yes?” “When we find a moment to ourselves, I shall require your assistance with a delicate matter.” For a long time, Iris had served the queen in this way, and Ulrika knew her message was clear. Even so, the blush of her cheeks was certainly telling of her predicament. “Oh, of course, my Queen. We should be well-stocked of your… equipment.” Iris knew better than to say aloud that the Virago Queen wore diapers. Nonetheless, Ulrika was grateful for her assistant’s discretion. The two women approached the outskirts of the war camp, and none too soon. The sensation of the wet diaper being squished against her by her horse’s saddle irritated Ulrika to no end. Busy soldiers and officers scurried about, carrying arms and munitions to and fro. Many people were shouting, and many soldiers were running ahead, weapons at the ready. It was then that Ulrika realized: perhaps it wasn’t just thunder she’d been hearing. ------------------------------------------- The Virago Queen certainly has an interesting way of showing gratitude, thought Brenna. She served her queen as a lord commander with a decently sized regiment under her control. Before that, however, she was called the Howling Gale on the battlefield. She was a famous warrior, having slain countless of the throne’s enemies. For her courage and valor, she was to be awarded with power and authority. How nice those things had seemed, before Brenna found herself overseeing the most pitiful group of pants-pissers she’d ever seen. An unfortunate symptom of having an almighty warrior-queen serving as an icon to your people was that it inspired even the most unfit citizens to sign up as soldiers. The Queen had felt that if anyone could turn these weaklings into killers, it would be the Howling Gale. What followed had been months of Brenna and her subordinate Signe attempting to educate nearly three hundred women in the ways of war. She’d tried to teach them advanced techniques, but it was all so far above their heads. She’d tried to show them basic battle strategy, but Brenna was better suited to carrying out strategies, not making them- certainly not teaching them. When they finally met an enemy in open combat, half of her forces wouldn’t even leave their cover, preferring instead to wallow in their own puddles and messes. She’d punished them thoroughly after that. They’d improved, at least a little, but then she was commanded to capture a Gothian fortress. Every last offense she’d planned against the enemy base crumbled when exposed to her regiment’s sheer ineptitude. And now the queen will finally see the hopelessness of trying to train these people, she thought. Scandian reinforcements had arrived some days ago, and immediately seized control of the situation from Brenna. Whatever plan they’d concocted had been thrown into chaos when a contingent of Gothian reinforcements took everyone by surprise. And now Brenna found herself stuck in a ditch with five of her soldiers. Gunfire soared overhead, effectively serving as a roof. Skilled as she was, Brenna knew that showing her head over the edge of the pit was certain death. She was condemned to wait until the Scandian forces had pushed far enough to draw the focus off of them. She found the waiting distasteful, but her company in the ditch was absolutely intolerable. Five soldiers, and three of them had pissed themselves. One of the wet women had a large brown stain and wet bulge resting in the seat of her trousers, and she was confident she saw another bulge in the seat of the woman next to her. Only two of them had managed to not ruin their underwear in some way. When, at last, the gunfire abated, Brenna wasted no time standing and climbing out of the pit. “C-commander Brenna!” one of her soldiers called after her. Brenna turned to see the woman she was only fairly sure had soiled herself addressing her, “W-w-what should we do? There’s so many of them,” “Either follow behind me or cower in this pit,” She replied gruffly, “Whatever you decide, just keep out of my way.” Readying her rifle, she charged forward, free at last of that filthy hole in the ground. Bullets raced by her as she advanced. She didn’t scare easily, but the fear of being shot was a powerful and universal one. She felt the familiar adrenaline rush, the erratic and rapid beating of her heart, and the slightest twinge in her bladder- all long time companions of hers. Swift as the wind for which she was given her title, she gunned down two Gothian soldiers before they could move to dodge her. Charging through the barricade they’d been using, she was ambushed by a hidden man. With startling speed, he raised his knife, and brought it down. A small gasp escaped her lips, but her instincts took over and kept her alive. With a speedy sidestep, she dodged the knife, and drove the butt of her rifle into the man’s throat. He stumbled and fell backwards, giving Brenna enough time to raise her weapon high, and bring down the bayonet into his chest. She was panting, and felt dampness at her crotch. While she prided herself on being fearless, it could be said that her body was not as brave as her mind. She had a consistent tendency to leak on herself when in combat. To remedy this, she wore thicker underwear than most. Layers of cloth wrapped around her groin in an approximation of panties. She would defend to the death that this garment was not a diaper, and that she did not wet herself. Collecting herself, she analyzed the battlefield around her. Scandian cavalry had begun a fierce charge, and appeared to be smashing apart any Gothian lines. Before long, only the Gothians taking cover in the fort would be safe, and only until Scandian forces breached it. The thought of being the one to take the enemy stronghold filled her with excitement. At last, this thorn in her side could be removed. Ignoring the minor wetness between her thighs, she pressed on, towards the fort. ------------------------------------------- Ulrika found herself somewhat happy that she’d emptied her bladder before reaching her destination. She’d been able to do so slowly and deliberately- ensuring no leaks. Had she entered into the warzone before her with a full bladder, she knew there was a good chance she’d have caused it to overflow. She was ashamed to know such a thing, but she couldn’t deny it. Minutes after her arrival, a large force of Gothian soldiers had arrived to break the siege. She couldn’t be sure of their numbers, but there was certainly no shortage of them. Scandian soldiers rushed to take positions behind hastily made fortifications. The cacophonous shouts of countless officers attempting to organize their forces formed a background of noise to the innumerable gunshots and the thunder of cannons. Beside her, Iris was shaking, looking like she might fall off of her horse at any second. Ulrika half expected to see a growing urine stain upon her servant’s red dress, but it seemed Iris managed to keep her bladder under her control. “Iris,” Ulrika said in an authoritative voice, hiding her own fear, “Get somewhere safe, wait until the fighting is over.” “Y-y-yes, Your M-Majesty,” The woman could barely speak, and her face was pale as death. With a kick, she sped off on her steed, searching for shelter. Ulrika longed to join her. Already, her heart was pounding, and a cold knot in her stomach threatened to take control of her body away at any second. She shook her head, and steeled herself. She was the Virago Queen, not some little infant who soiled herself and ran at the slightest fright. She would be the stone that this Gothian army would break upon. Pulling her grand, double-barrelled rifle from its holster, she rode towards the sounds of thunder. ------------------------------------------- Signe could not tell if she was the luckiest or unluckiest woman in the world. She’d been a short distance from the rest of the camp when the Gothians launched their surprise attack, and this allowed her to use the surrounding woods for cover while she fired on the assailants. However, she’d been apart from the others on account of her need to relieve herself. She’d hoped to find a moment of privacy, but now found herself trying to snipe Gothians whilst keeping her thighs held together. The young soldier had positioned herself atop a small hill, and had a grand view of the unfolding battle. Scandian fortifications and a few old buildings had made for excellent cover to lay siege to the fort, but now the Gothians had pushed so far forward many of these defenses now belonged to them. An enemy soldier rounded a corner, and levelled his rifle at the female soldier taking cover there. With a quick twist and a squeeze of the trigger, Signe planted a bullet in his chest. The man and his rifle crashed to the ground, unmoving. The woman she’d just saved looked towards Signe’s impromptu nest, still in a bit of a stupor. With her sharp eyes, Signe noticed with sympathy that there was a quickly expanding stain on the front of the woman’s uniform pants. She turned her attention to a line of Gothian marksmen who’d reversed one of the Scandian barricades, and were using it for cover. They were effectively turning a long stretch of ground into a killing floor. Signe fired, and the first of the Gothian soldiers dropped. The one closest to him lost his focus, and in that second she took him down, as well. The remaining soldiers crouched low, fully hiding behind their cover. With their overwatch ended, Scandian forces promptly advanced towards them. They wouldn’t last much longer. Signe then turned to the next cluster of Gothians. She aimed and placed her shot, but felt a slick heat flowing into her underwear just before pulling the trigger. Alarmed at leaking, her shot went wide, and impacted a tree next to her target. With some gestures and shouting, suddenly the eyes of several Gothian marksmen fell upon her perch. Signe’s eyes went wide, and she dove behind a nearby tree trunk for cover. Lying flat on her stomach, she pressed her body against the ground as tightly as possible. A hailstorm of bullets followed only a second after. Dirt and bark were launched into the air, and the terrifying howl of passing bullets was all she could hear. Her bladder, made lax with fear, spilled its contents into her trousers. Lying flat upon the ground, it soaked the front of her pants, puddling in the dirt, and reaching down to her knees. The fetid warmth spread to the bottom of her shirt and jacket, and tears of relief stung her eyes. Her stream died down to a trickle, and at last it was finished. Doing her utmost to remain hidden, she crawled away from the stump, moving downhill. She would need to find a new position, and she would need to be more subtle. Crawling through the brush, her cold and clammy pants stuck to her thighs, and the scent was thick. Signe had heard that Queen Ulrika would be making an appearance that day, and she dearly wanted not to face her queen in piss-soaked clothes. Once she’d found another vantage point, she took care to conceal her location. Without the nagging of a full bladder, her accuracy and reaction notably improved. Earlier, she’d wished for a quick battle, so that she could finish it and retreat to somewhere private to empty her bladder; now she was hoping it would rage for long enough that she’d dry off under the sun. ------------------------------------------- Iris hadn’t needed much convincing to run to safety. She’d sped away on her horse, but soon found that the Gothian assault had been so rapid and brutal that shelters were in rather short supply.Much worse than that, though, was her appearance. She wore a red dress, and rode a horse of excellent breed. She looked to the Gothians very much like a person of high standing within Scandia. She looked very much like a target. Struggling to find anywhere that looked safe, and like it would continue to be safe, the young woman had no choice but to dart back and forth between anything that resembled cover. When the first bullet sped passed her head, she nearly fainted. With every ounce of willpower she had, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around her horse’s head for stability. A long jet of urine soaked into her panties, sending several droplets down her thighs. More bullets came, each one only narrowly missing. In her addled, terrified state, she decided to abandon her mount, and seek a small hovel to hide in. Dismounting while as numb as she was proved difficult, and she more akin to falling off her horse and landing on her backside. Her legs shaking and unable to carry her, she crawled over to a large stone wall, one looking to belong to a church, and covered her head with her hands, willing the fight to be over. ------------------------------------------- Ulrika’s anger at the failure of her forces was immeasurable, and matched only by the dread that filled her heart. The Gothians were known for fighting ferociously to the bitter end, and they’d haunted her nightmares since she first began her campaign against them. The Virago Queen did everything in her power to clear her mind, and focus on the battle. Mounted atop her powerful steed, and wielding her ornate rifle, she rode to the site of one of the more fierce engagements. She came upon two Scandian soldiers, both huddled behind some crates for cover. One of them, at least, was attempting to fight. She leaned over the boxes and fired, although the large wet streaks down her legs betrayed her fearful incontinence. The other, however, was sitting with her knees pulled to her chest, no weapon in sight. She sat in a large puddle, and a large, rounded bulge rested in the seat of her pants, tinging them brown. “Disgraceful!” She shouted at them. The one who still had her weapon spun around in alarm, before lifting her hand in a shaky salute when she realized who had approached her. The other looked up, and whimpered slightly. “You are here to fight for your country, soldiers! If you cannot even keep from soiling yourselves, then you have no place on my battlefield!” “Y-yes, Your Majesty,” The one who’d only wet herself replied. She shook slightly, and Ulrika noted the renewed wetness blossoming at the woman’s crotch. “If you’ve any honor or love for your country, you’ll advance and fight for it!” Seeing the mighty Virago Queen in all her splendor, the whimpering soldier managed to stand. Urine dripped from her trousers, but she gave a dutiful salute to Ulrika. “For Scandia!” She said, with as much force as her voice could muster. “For Scandia!” Said the other, as she turned to resume firing. Satisfied, Ulrika rode ahead. Bullets flew by her, and she knew she must have been the target of more than one Gothian gunman. Heat around her groin informed her that her bladder had just released whatever urine was still inside it. Once again, she found herself silently praying that the stress and strain the fight was putting on both herself and her diaper wouldn’t cause a leak. She tried to remain calm, and to center herself; the army here was positively massive. The Gothians were fighting with their usual suicidal vigor, but they could not hope to defeat their much larger host. Her fear was intense, having already overwhelmed her bladder, but Ulrika was still a skilled combatant. As she rode, she quickly shot down the Gothians in her immediate vicinity. Her forces were following quickly behind her, having been galvanized by her presence. With the might Virago Queen serving as their inspiration, the Scandian army was ready to vanquish any foe. And the Gothians knew that. Already she looked the part of an officer, and thus a target, but when it became clear that she was the legendary Queen and the architect of Scandia’s imperialism, nearly all guns were trained on her. The first few bullets smashed into the ground near her horse, and she thought little of them. As more came, she kicked her horse into a gallop. Speeding through the battlements, the ground around her was being torn away by the hailstorm of gunfire. Tears of abject terror burned at her eyes, and she wanted so badly to scream. Her fear took root in her bowels, then, and spilled its contents out. Wet mush filled the back of her diaper to the brim, coating her rear end. As her backside smashed repeatedly against the saddle, her release was smeared against her. At last, a bullet hit a mark. Mercifully, it had missed Ulrika herself, but instead struck her horse in the flank. It reared upwards in sudden pain, flinging her from its back. Wasting no time, she righted herself, and stood up just in time to see her horse running off into the woods. In a frightened panic, she turned and ran towards the nearest cover she could find. Her legs did not take her far, and she tripped and fell forward, behind a stone wall. A shrill, terrified scream startled Ulrika, and she looked up to see none other than Iris pressed against the wall. She was shaking, and it seemed as though she wasn’t expecting the storm of bullets Ulrika had brought to her hiding place, and was certainly not prepared for someone to jump in with her. A wet spot had blossomed on the front of her dress, and grew rapidly into an irregular, oblong circle. Trails of wetness raced down the sides of the crimson fabric while a large stain gradually worked its way to the bottom. Streams and drops of piss fell from her hem, creating a growing puddle underneath her. As she continued to wet herself, she calmed slightly, and seemed to recognize who had just joined her. “Q-Queen Ulrika?!” For a second, she almost looked relieved. “Iris? I ordered you to go somewhere safe!” “There wasn’t anywhere! This was-” The shouting of Gothian words silenced the both of them. Someone was close, and calling to his compatriots. Ulrika did not know the words he spoke, but she knew the tone. Here! Here! She imagined him relaying to his friends, She’s hiding over here! She reached for her weapon, only to find it absent. It had been thrown to places unknown when she fell from her horse. The two of them were defenseless. Her heart racing, she lifted a brick from the ground, preparing to defend herself. Footsteps drew near. Closer, closer, until Ulrika was certain the soldier would round the corner at any second. But with the crack of a single rifle firing, the footsteps abruptly stopped. Ulrika turned towards the source of the shot, and saw a female Scandian soldier rising from cover. A large wet patch adorned her trousers. The woman began to walk towards them, until the explosive thunder of artillery drowned out all other sounds. A spot not too distant from their hide was smote with a fiery explosion. The markswoman dove into a nearby building for safety. The miniature earthquake it created shook Ulrika to her core, and she cowered behind the wall. Tucking her knees in, and covering her head, it was all she could do not to pass out. The Gothians had seen her run this way. They’d heard the words of the soldier who’d come looking. They knew she was hiding. All they had to do was destroy any potential cover until they finally struck her. When the next explosion came, Ulrika soiled herself even further. More wet mush filled out her diaper, creating a bulge in her trousers. It would take a miracle for it not to leak. A third explosion came, but never a fourth. The queen dared to look up, and beheld that the fighting was nearly over. Scandian forces had advanced extremely quickly, and braved the walls of the fort. Within minutes, the fighting would be well and truly over. She stood, taking stock of how heavy her pants had become. She’d produced an impressive amount of shit, and she was certain the front was practically waterlogged. Iris, too, had calmed herself, and shamefully grabbed the front of her dress, feeling the massive piss stain. “Is… Is it over?” Iris said in her demure, timid voice. Stumbling over to the edge of the wall, she peered at the fort, and saw the concluding battle. While her assistant inspected the fort, Ulrika’s eyes were drawn to the back of her skirt. The queen was disheartened to see that, despite everything, Iris had actually managed not to soil herself. Ulrika hated her own cowardice so very much. Even her servant, who was woefully frightened of everything, hadn’t made as much of a mess of herself as Ulrika had. “It… Would appear so, yes,” At the queen’s observation, Iris loudly exhaled in gratitude that they were safe. “Iris,” She muttered, getting the young woman’s attention, “In a moment, I shall require your… assistance.” --------------------- “Disgraceful,” Brenna’s forceful voice rang out over the now quiet war camp. Her regiment now stood in formation in front of her. Nearly three hundred pairs of pissed pants. Brenna couldn’t be sure how many had soiled themselves, but the absolutely nauseating odor indicated it was a sizeable portion. The soldiers before averted their eyes. Their faces burned with shame, and she knew some were crying, or close to crying. Entirely unacceptable behavior for warriors of the Scandian empire. Even her right-hand-woman Signe had wet herself in the fray. Brenna was certain this entire assignment was intended to be a punishment for some unknown slight against the Virago Queen. And speak of the Devil… Brenna thought, seeing the tall and imposing figure of her country’s ruler approaching. The Queen’s assistant followed close behind her, looking much like one of Brenna’s less-than-continent soldiers, with the massive urine stain on the front of her skirt. Standing in the proper posture, Brenna saluted her queen. Predictably, Ulrika wore quite a scowl on her face. Murmurs spread throughout her regiment, and the many soiled soldiers clumsily and inelegantly snapped to attention and saluted her. “Your Majesty, Queen Ulrika! I-” “Choose your words carefully, lord commander,” Ulrika said with a dangerous edge in her voice that made Brenna’s throat feel dry. “I want you to explain to me, firstly, why an imperceptibly small force held you at bay for this long. Long enough that enemy reinforcements could arrive. Had my forces not joined the battle when we had, you and your entire regiment would have been killed. Secondly, explain to me how it is that hardly a single one of your troops managed not to ruin their uniforms with their own waters and waste. Explain to me, ‘Howling Gale’, how you permitted this disgrace to befall your homeland.” Brenna could feel her composure cracking like glass. The Virago Queen was legendarily cruel when it came to punishing failure in her ranks. A slight warmth at her groin warned her how close she was to losing control of her bladder. She swallowed, then answered, “My queen,” her voice was hoarse, “I did all that I could to teach these people. They aren’t soldiers, they-” “You were to make them into soldiers,” A cold fury radiated behind her words. Brenna coughed slightly, the dryness in her throat almost choking her, “I… I failed to do so, Your Highness,” admittance of failure did not come easily to her, but the queen would not tolerate excuses. “Lieutenant Signe and I tried fervently to educate our charges, but it is my belief that none of them possess the mettle to serve in your armies.” The words did nothing to assuage the mighty queen’s anger. “How ‘fervently’ could you have tried, lord commander? The people I left in your care could only cower and wet themselves when they were called to serve.” “Your Majesty, I must confess that I do not understand!” Brenna’s voice was confused and desperate. “I am one of your finest soldiers, I have slain countless many of your enemies. Why have I been relegated to teaching these overgrown children who cannot even control their own bladders? Have I done something to warrant this punishment?” Her tone shifted from pleading to angry by the end of her rant, but her blood ran cold when she saw how Ulrika’s face twisted from cold fury to murderous intent. Quick pulses of her piss soaked into her underwear as she leaked even more. “Commander Brenna,” Ulrika said slowly. She took a step forward, and Brenna quickly took a frightened step back. “I placed you in charge of this regiment specifically because of your talents. I had faith in you to turn them into loyal and powerful soldiers of Scandia. All you have to offer me are excuses and accusations. All you can give me, after all that I have given you, is failure.” The queen continued to walk towards her. Brenna had completely abandoned her posture, and was fearfully backstepping. The warmth of urine saturated her groin. She knew that she was not just leaking, she had begun to wet herself. Her regiment only watched, silent and bewildered. In the quiet, the harsh hiss of her voiding bladder was clear as day. In disgust, Ulrika lowered her gaze to Brenna’s crotch. She raised an eyebrow when there was no wetness there. Brenna could feel her release flooding her privates, the garment growing heavy between her legs. “Are you… ” Ulrika began, but continued to observe. The queen’s gaze sharpened even further. Brenna guessed that she was piecing together what was hiding under her trousers. The terrifying queen’s visage evaporated whatever control was left of the lord commander’s bladder. Hot piss sprayed into her underwear, soaking them beyond their capacity. Crescents of wetness formed on each of her thighs, and raced downwards. Small puddles formed at her feet. “Shame upon shame,” the queen said coldly. With a quick and harsh motion, she gripped Brenna’s trousers, and yanked them down. Brenna gasped loudly as her special, protective undergarments were put on display. The white cloth had been thoroughly stained yellow. “You insult and chastise them, when you are no better. Perhaps I truly did overestimate you, Howling Gale.” The edge in the queen’s voice was pure ice. Brenna was certain the Virago Queen was going to have her killed. “Y-Your Majesty, P-please!” She begged, as a quick burst of flatulence and accompanying crackling announced the emptying of her bowels. Wet mush piled in the seat of her “panties,” some escaping the cuffs and dripping down her thigh. The release was large, and her now bulging underwear began to slide down her thighs. Gripping the sides, she pulled them back up, too numb with fear to mind how it made her mess press against her rear. “Lord commander Brenna, I hereby strip you of your rank. Wash the filth off of yourself, and meet me in the command tent for the assignment of your punishment.” Brenna felt tears stinging her eyes. Her entire regiment could only stare, wide-eyed, at her pathetic display in front of them. Ulrika looked to Signe, and spoke, “Lieutenant Signe, I presume?” “Y-yes, Your Majesty!” Signe dutifully answered, a little surprised to be called upon. “You killed a man who was only seconds away from revealing my position to Gothian cannoneers. I daresay my servant and I only escaped the bombardment thanks to you.” “Ah, uh, of course, Your Majesty! I would gladly lay down my life for you!” “And yet,” Ulrika’s eyes drifted down to the wetness of Signe’s thighs. “It would appear that fear made a fool of you as well.” “F-forgive me, my queen,” “However, despite your fear, you fulfilled your duty as a soldier. You did not let your terror stand in your way. You accomplished much today, proving your courage.” “Yes, Your Majesty,” Signe opted for a simple response. “I see now that I made an error appointing the Howling Gale to be the commander of this regiment. If anyone can teach them of courage and duty, it is you. I hereby appoint you as lord commander of this regiment.” The queen and her assistant departed, leaving a stunned Signe and a shamed Brenna standing alone in front of the many Scandian Soldiers. A chill breeze swept between Brenna’s bare thighs, reminding her that her trousers rested around her ankles, and her ruined diaper was perfectly visible to hundreds of people. Holding back her tears, she yanked her pants back up, cringing as it forced the cold, wet, and soiled garment against her body. The former lord commander silently left, searching for someplace to clean herself off. --------------------- Ulrika was well aware of the hypocrisy of her condemnations. Even as she paraded the lord commander’s incontinence before everyone, Ulrika herself still had yet to change. Her own undergarments were still swollen with her urine, and sagging with her waste. She reminded herself that the facade was critically important, and that if she needed to be a hypocrite to ensure the success and morale of her empire, then she gladly would be. But what truly bothered her was not the carefully crafted charade, the lies, deceptions, or hypocrisy- it was the honesty of her praise for the markswoman Signe. Like most of the inept regiment, she had wet herself, but hardly seemed a coward for it. The vision of the woman, clad in pissed pants, fearlessly gunning down the man who would have taken Ulrika’s life was burned into her mind. All that she, the Virago Queen could do, was to curl up and soil herself like a frightened child. Along with her respect for the woman, Ulrika felt a burning envy of her courage. She had to pause in her walk, and pull her pants and diaper back up, as the weight of her earlier fear had caused them to slide down her legs. A quick touch of her rear confirmed that she’d produced a considerable amount of shit in her pants. The shame of her incontinence burned hotly, but not nearly so much as her shame in her own cowardice. “Ah, Your Majesty!” An older man’s voice called. One of the generals sent to destroy the fort. He and the other generals and commanders had gathered around a small table with a map. They were discussing and preparing the greater offensive- the invasion into Gothia from this point. It was a discussion she would need to be present for. Naturally, it would be taking place when Ulrika’s pants were full of shit. Fighting to clear her mind and keep her blush at bay, she approached the table. They each welcomed her with a proper salute, and made way for her to view the map. It wasn’t even a minute until one of them made the comment Ulrika would’ve rather died than hear: “Does anybody else smell that?” She veritably froze on the spot, her mind racing to concoct an excuse for why she smelled like a latrine. “Oh!” Iris chimed in. She clutched the large wet stain on the front of her dress, “I… I am terribly sorry… That smell is me.” The young woman visibly spread her legs slightly, to give the impression that she had soiled herself, “I couldn’t reach safety, and I was terribly frightened! All the bullets, and the fighting, I just… ” She squeezed the hand that held her piss-stained skirt, once again emphasizing her accident. Ulrika had very clearly seen the woman’s rear, and there was no hint of Iris having lost control of her bowels. Her able assistant had just eagerly offered up her own dignity to save Ulrika’s. In that moment, Ulrika was considering renaming a city or two after Iris in gratitude. The men around them had mixed reactions. Some chuckled, some looked with sympathy, and others looked away in disgust, or just due to the awkwardness. Finally, one of them shattered the tension with a quick jest, “What were you so scared of, miss? You had the Virago Queen by your side! You couldn’t have been any safer in the sturdiest bunker in the land.” The others nodded their agreement and chuckled along. “Well, I do suppose I can see that now,” Iris commented, giving a quiet, little laugh. Thinking back to the two of them hiding and wetting themselves, only to be saved by someone else, Ulrika’s self-loathing thoughts of her own cowardice resurfaced, and she wished them to be gone immediately. “Yes yes, enough teasing my assistant,” She said, getting everyone back on track. “Today we begin what I intend to be the final campaign into Gothia. I will have no more delays, no more failures.” With that, they began their planning. For over an hour, Ulrika and Iris stood there in their wet and soiled clothing. When, at last, it had ended, they retired to the command tent- a large, almost luxurious tent that had been erected in anticipation of the queen’s arrival. It was private, devoid of people, had no windows to the outside, and would be an excellent place for the two women to clean and change themselves. Once they had entered inside, and there were no prying eyes or ears to bother them, Ulrika turned to face her assistant. “Iris,” She said, more gently than usual. “Highness?” “... Thank you.” Ulrika was not skilled in offering up genuine gratitude, and Iris’ smile told her the young woman knew the significance of her thanks, tacit as it was. “Of course, my Queen.” The tent lacked any suitable changing table, so they’d have to make do on the floor. While her diaper had miraculously spared her trousers from the torrent of piss and shit she unleashed into them, her clothes had otherwise been soiled by rips, tears, burns, blood, and dirt. Stripping them off, she stood before Iris in only her heavily soiled diaper. The two had long ago done away with any discomfort between themselves in regards to nudity. Iris produced a fresh diaper from her bag, and Ulrika prepared to lie down for changing, when they heard it. “So this is the mighty Virago Queen, in all her splendor.” For a second, Ulrika was certain it had only been a nightmarish conjuration of her own imagination. The voice belonged to man. A man who spoke with a thick Gothian accent. She felt liquid warmth pouring into her diaper. She fought to stand up, to assess the situation. Emerging from a hidden space in the spacious tent was a man in Gothian uniform, clutching a pistol in one hand and a saber in the other. He had a look on his face that was a cross between utter disbelief and unabated joy. Iris’ legs were shaking. She grabbed onto Ulrika’s arm to steady herself. She was still wetting her diaper, although it could hold no more by that point. Golden rivulets broke through the garment, and coursed down her muscular legs. The man- the assassin- looked on with a smug grin. “I would’ve preferred to kill you on the battlefield, but I must say… this is proving far more enjoyable than I predicted.” “P-please… don’t… ” Ulrika stammered out a meager plea, but she knew it was pointless. The ferocity and perseverance of the Gothians had haunted her nightmares for quite some time. She knew there was absolutely no way he would let her live, not when he had the power to shatter the leadership and morale of the people invading his homeland. “I don’t know how you managed to fool all of us into being afraid of you, but it won’t matter now,” he levelled his pistol at her head. Ulrika could only close her eyes as tears streamed down her face. There was a gunshot. A thunderous sound that heralded death. Ulrika heard a wet squelch, and was sure she’d soiled herself even further in her final moments. But then she heard a body hit the ground in front of her. When she was certain it was not her that had been shot, she wiped the tears from her eyes, and opened them. The assassin was dead. A bleeding hole in the back of his head told the story of how. Standing behind him, jaw hanging open in shock, was the former lord commander Brenna. Ulrika’s senses returned to her, and she recalled that Brenna had been instructed to meet her in the command tent. Such a small action had saved she and Iris’ lives. Of course, she now had a disgruntled commander that she’d publicly humiliated staring at her in her state of incontinent undress. “Your Majesty,” she said, slowly, carefully, “Have I… interrupted something?” Ulrika attempted a reply, but it emerged only a choked, sobbing sound. With a cough, she cleared her throat and spoke, “L-lord Commander… I believe you have earned yourself a… promotion,” she hated having to concede anything to the woman who had so disrespected her earlier, but now she would need to keep her quiet. “It seems I have,” an opportunistic smiled creeped onto Brenna’s face. “I don’t want a position teaching whelps how to fight. I want to be there, my Queen. I want to win glory on the field of battle. Give me that, and I can promise not to ever speak a word of… this.” “Perhaps a position in my royal guard would suit you, then… Howling Gale,” she gritted her teeth in frustration. Once again, she’d been saved from imminent death when all she could do was beg for mercy and cower in fear. And to be saved by someone she was meant to be disciplining. Her trials today knew no ends. “I think that sounds perfect,” Brenna only then stowed her pistol away. “As a show of good faith, I’ll keep anyone from entering the tent for as long as I can. Give you time to make yourselves presentable. And I promise to forget what I saw,” She gave a slight wink with her last remark. No one in all the world could speak to her like that, least of all one of her subordinates. Brenna was a skilled warrior, and now had saved her life and was privy to her darkest secret; but even so, she would be made to heel. Ulrika considered how many ways she could have Brenna punished, but for the time being, she elected to finally change out of her truly ruined diaper.
  20. This was done as part of a trade with LeakyPanties. It also got me interested enough in the Street Fighter universe that I picked up V and started playing it. I like the game a lot, and I specifically like Rainbow Mika a lot, so I might be making more SF content. Hope you enjoy! The clamor and chaos that bellowed from a crowd was something Mika would never get tired of. As she stood atop the ropes ringing the arena, the roar grew only louder. “Who’s ready to watch an ass-whooping?” Mika called out, eliciting even more spirited cheers. Beside her, her tag-team partner Nadeshiko was also raising her arms high, calling out to the audience. It was a smaller venue than Mika traditionally hit up, but the crowd was certainly enthusiastic enough to make up the difference. They were eager to see some violence. “You ready to do this, Nadeshiko?” Mika asked, shooting her partner a smirk. Nadeshiko happily returned the smirk, “You bet your ass I am!” “Just asking, cause if you wanna take a break, you know; I’m feeling pumped.” “2v1 pumped?” When Mika’s only answer was a confident smile, Nadeshiko continued, “And leave all the fun to you? Keep dreaming.” At the opposite end of the building, a door swung open, letting in unwanted sunlight. A silhouette appeared in the light, clearly a woman. Mika recognized the figure of Poison almost immediately. What truly made her unhappy was the positively gargantuan silhouette that completely filled the doorway after her. Poison, her wild, pink hair a mess and signature whip in hand, strode towards the ring. Behind her, the colossus called Hugo followed. Mika’s smile had taken on a slightly more serious edge- no longer was she simply eager to get into a fight, now she was eager to take down an old rival of hers. Beside her, however, Nadeshiko’s boisterous confidence had died down considerably. She could swear the earth was shaking with every step Hugo took. She knew she’d peed a little when he entered. She hoped it wasn’t enough to show any damage on her outfit. “Mika,” She spoke, low enough that only the two of them could hear, “Uh, how do you wanna do this?” “Was thinkin’ we’d beat the crap out of ‘em, shake it up a little,” “Seriously, Mika, what’s the game plan?” “I can take on the big guy. I’ve fought with Zangief, after all, and that guy’s nothing compared to him!” Nadeshiko was rather relieved to hear that. Poison was no slouch, but at least she was about the same height. Nadeshiko would need a ladder just to punch Hugo in the chest. With almost no spectacle, the two climbed the ropes, and faced them. Being the rude person that Poison was, and the… odd individual that Hugo was, they weren’t incredibly popular for the audience. Their appearance was accompanied by scattered boos and jeers. It didn’t matter much to them; in fact, Poison likely preferred the enmity. “Rainbow Mika… ” She began, “I heard you recently beat Zangief in one of your little play matches. Old man must be losing his touch, huh?” “Why you… No one insults Zangief!” It wasn’t even a particularly scathing insult, but Mika couldn’t tolerate any amount of disrespect for her idol. “Change of plans, Nadeshiko, she’s mine!” “She’s- wait what?!” her partner stammered, but Mika had already taken several steps forward, raring to go. Nadeshiko looked at the giant who would be her opponent, and felt a cold pit in her stomach. She braced herself to keep from leaking any more. The venue and its modest accommodations didn’t have much in the way of rules, or even staff members, but the closest thing it had to an officiator simply called out, “3… 2… 1… FIGHT!!” With a nearly guttural roar, Hugo dropped to a fighting stance, and slowly approached Nadeshiko. She felt her bladder pulse once more, wetting the crotch of her wrestling attire. She steeled herself, and adopted her stance. She had no idea how she was going to take on Hugo, but she knew it wasn’t by pissing herself. With a sudden lurch forward, Hugo threw out a simple punch. Nadeshiko nimbly dodged it, and used the opening to advance and drive a kick into his belly. If he noticed, he didn’t show it. With his other arm, he struck her in the side. The impact made her stagger back, and she was sure she could feel a couple warm droplets running down her leg. Hugo laughed, and for a moment she was worried her accident had been noticed, however, “I feel no pain!” was all he had to say. Utilizing the considerable range his enormous arms offered him, he lashed out repeatedly, throwing out swing after swing. It taxed her reflexes to the extreme to keep up her dodging. A mighty right hook whizzed by her face, missing by an inch. The shock was so great that she failed to dodge his next attack. Raising her arms to block, she weathered a massive strike from Hugo. Searing pain shot through her arms, and heat coursed down her legs. “No no no no no!” She muttered, looking down at herself. Urine was pouring from her crotch, and her suit was soaked. A thick stream fell between her legs, and splattered noisily on the ground. Smaller streams ran down her legs, depositing into the same puddle. Laughter quickly rose from the audience, along with insults and taunts. Nadeshiko’s face burned red- she’d just wet herself in front of a sizeable crowd. Hugo laughed, and stood imposingly over her, “scared?” He asked. Nadeshiko refused to let the fear overwhelm her any further. Hugo thought he had the fight in the bag, and she aimed to show him otherwise. He leaned over her, and she launched an uppercut directly into his jaw with all her might. If he truly felt no pain, then he was a good actor. He reeled back, clutching his chin. Nadeshiko returned to her fighting stance, and felt her face burn even hotter when the last spurt of urine finally exited her body, and streamed down her leg. Meanwhile, Mika and Poison had been having their own little match. Poison’s whip made a number of approaches difficult, since any attacker would just eat a hit from it if they weren’t careful. Mika performed a feint attack, and Poison swung her whip. Had Mika truly been going for the attack, she would have taken a nasty hit; instead the whip cracked harmlessly in the open air. Mika had instead lunged in the other direction, and quickly closed the distance. Poison barely had time to look surprised before Mika planted a fist in her face. She continued, and drove her knee into her stomach. Finally, she grabbed Poison’s shoulders, and forcefully pulled her into a grapple- slamming her into the ground. Mika put all of her weight and all of her strength into the attack. Poison cried out in pain, but Mika had heard something else. She heard a faint crackle. With Poison’s shorts being pitch black and rather tight, it was difficult to see any staining or any bulge, but the smell in the air told Mika the truth: Poison had crapped herself. Mika grinned ear to ear, and stood, leaving Poison on the ground. She faced the cheering crowd, who had taken great joy in watching the show. In truth, she was also trying to put a little distance between herself and the odor of Poison’s accident. In the middle of the fight between Hugo and Nadeshiko, Mika had bested Poison. Her scream of pain caught Hugo’s attention. In a panic, he looked over to see Mika cheering over a hurt Poison. Seeing his friend in trouble, Hugo growled, and abandoned his fight with Nadeshiko. He rushed to Mika, determined to protect- or at least avenge- his old friend. Mika was riding high after taking out her rival. She was far too busy showboating to notice Hugo. Only when his monstrous shadow fell upon her did she realize what was happening- all too late. Like a human avalanche, he hit her with a body slam. It hurt Poison when Mika put all of her weight into a similar attack, but all of Hugo’s weight? That was like getting run over by a train. She was smashed into the floor, face-down. “Mika!!” Nadeshiko called out, running to assist her partner. Her effort was halted when something took hold of her arm, and pulled her back. Poison’s whip was entangled around her elbow. Poison herself had recovered from Mika’s barrage of attacks, but looked quite worse for wear. Some observers may have even found themselves questioning why she was standing so bowlegged. Poison pulled hard on the whip, bringing Nadeshiko to her. Poison’s eyes drifted down to the wrestler’s stained crotch, and she laughed mockingly. Nadeshiko fought back, but Poison was quick. She swiftly entangled her with the whip once more, this time around Nadeshiko’s entire body. Her arms were bound to her side, and she could not free herself, no matter how hard she struggled. She was then spun, and shoved towards the ropes. Her wet groin and glistening legs were quite easy to see. “Looks like little Nadeshiko had a bit too much to drink!” Poison shouted, eliciting laughter from the crowd. She was spun around once more, facing Poison again. “Hey, Hugo!” She called, “Wanna finish this one up?” The giant smiled, “Sure thing,” and lifted himself up. Below him, Mika was still lying face-down. She struggled to rise, but only briefly, before falling back down. Those in the ring were privy to a hissing sound, and their eyes all fell upon Rainbow Mika, and the rapidly expanding puddle around her thighs. “Oh-ho! This is great!” Poison shouted, seeing Mika piss herself, “I think it’s about time for a rebranding. How does ‘Yellow Mika’ sound?” The audience laughed, and some of them even started a chant of “Yellow Mika.” Hugo gave a spirited laugh at his friend’s joke, as he cracked his knuckles. “All yours,” Poison said, stepping to the side. Nadeshiko struggled furiously to escape the whip binding her, but nothing worked. She stumbled backwards, into the ropes. There was nowhere else to go. Hugo reeled back for a bone-shattering punch, while Poison merely taunted “smile for the camera!” Nadeshiko couldn’t find the same courage that had helped her earlier, the only thing she could feel was chilling terror. Her knees buckled, and her bowels gave in, pushing their contents into her panties. Unlike Poison, Nadeshiko’s outfit was white, and quite elastic. Her wet load filled the backside of her outfit, creating a rounded bulge that began to tinge brown. As she’d stumbled back into the ropes, she’d just treated at least a quarter of the audience to a clear view of her shitting herself in fear. She took solace in the fact that she would be unconscious soon enough. But that was when all of them heard the rather startling sound of Mika’s voice, screaming “Hey!!” Poison and Hugo whirled about in alarm, to see Rainbow Mika charging at them. As silly as she looked, with a piss stain that reached up to her bellybutton, they knew she was still a threat. Hugo prepared to meet her in combat, and Poison prepared to back him up. Both of them ignored Nadeshiko, who took the time to wriggle and writhe as much as possible. She had to suppress her desire to cheer when the whip began to loosen, and finally fell off of her. She’d been partners with Mika long enough to know what she wanted to do. Hugo was not ready when, instead of attacking him, Mika slid between his legs. Behind him, Nadeshiko was waiting. She held out her hands, and served as a launchpad for Mika. Throwing the woman into the air, she landed a deadly kick on the back of the giant man’s head. He howled in pain, and began to waver. Poison was fast enough to realize the danger she was in. She rushed Nadeshiko before Hugo could fall- before it would just be her against the duo. Nadeshiko was taken by surprise, and fell victim to a kick in her stomach. Poison retrieved her whip, and lashed out with it, striking Nadeshiko in the chest. She screamed, and fell backwards. She was done for, and she knew it. Unlike Mika, she couldn’t muster the will to stand back up. By the time Hugo had finally collapsed, Mika was panting. She seriously only had a few drops of energy left inside her. Her eyes went wide when she saw an incoming whip strike. She ducked it, but Poison pressed the attack. Mika’s dodges of the many whip cracks were getting sloppier by the second. Eventually, Poison had gotten close enough to deliver a punch directly to Mika’s abdomen. Mika didn’t have the energy left to dodge, nor the strength left to resist it. She inhaled sharply, then felt her body begin to go limp. When Poison pulled her fist back, Mika fell to her knees, wobbling to her left and right. She fought hard to stay conscious, to get back up and win, but her body was at its limit. She tried to force her body to move, and the exertion caused her to soil herself. The back of her outfit tented as its elasticity was tested by Mika’s load. Unlike her partner, her mess was much more firm, and stretched her outfit enough that she could feel it grow tighter. The thing both soilings had in common, however, was how conspicuous they were. There was no way anyone watching her couldn’t tell that she’d just shat her pants. She felt humiliated, but mostly she just felt anger. She couldn’t stand to have lost to Poison. She especially disliked that Poison was the first person to crap their pants, and yet no had noticed. “Nighty night, Yellow Mika,” Poison purred. Mika fell forward, the pain and exhaustion only seconds from overwhelming her. In that moment, she swore to herself that she would not rest until she’d redeemed herself for this shameful match, and until she made Poison pay.
  21. A dark day overshadowed by its own achievements the onlookers watched as the stage lights flickered to life unaware of the truth hidden deep beneath the hard earth they stood on the man began waltzing about the recently constructied wood platform that would be gone as soon as it appeared he spoke not only to the large crowd he so skillfully baited but to himself “its foolproof” he thought “now now” his voice billowed from the speakers “i have a plan... one to change the world..... forever “ that last word never meant much before The crowd screamed for more, this man was a genius, biggest tech manufacturer in the city normally he went on about his newest phone or some computer thats name is worth more then it abilities but not today... chapter one never He looks at the crowd and smiles” looks like my job here is don-“ It truly was In less than a second blood splattered on the stage seeping in too the poorly sealed wood He fell as the crowd ran in panicked fury The attacker walked off stage almost unnoticed... almost she was a detective working freelance with long brown hair and more than an impressive body standing amongst the crowd but probably not the only one with a weapon Swiftly boring of the mans honeyed words she squeezed between the human wall or at least tried too get to the restroom Yet then disaster struck She watched as the attacker plunged a dagger into the back of the mans neck severing his spine immediately She took action and raced to the staircase barely noticing the warm drops of urine that slipped out into her panties She reached the stage only to see the murderer duck behind the curtains She sprinted after them with another spirt of urine leaking out As soon as she rounded the corner the murderer grabbed her in a choke hold, bolting into action she flipped them over her head and on to the ground her bladder bulging crying for release He hit the boards with a thud and quickly stood back up pointing the knife at her, she in response pulled her own weapon as a matter of reflex she stood holding the stub nose revolver, adrenaline coursing through her...and with urine running freely down her legs The murderer stood shocked for a moment, and that was the last mistake he made as she put a round in has forehead She relaxed a bit as her muscles loosened so did her bowels pushing a warm soft mass into her already saturated panties She reached to feel the extent of the damages touching the seat of her pants and squishing the mess against her body by accident “shit” she murmured to herself both figuratively and literally Swiftly brushing aside her own pride she marched forward toward the body hoping the stains and smells aren’t too clear She squatted down rubbing the mess against her body and rummaged through the corpses pockets finding two daggers near identical to the one it was holding , and a match box She stood up and hurried to her car It was a rundown suv with plenty of scratches and dings she took a seat feeling the warm mess of her shame After a quick and unpleasant ride she reached home undid the lock and walked in She took of the black long coat she was wearing emptied her pockets and walked to her room in the mid sized house. First she slid off the plane black shirt then pulled down and stepped out of the knee length black skirt and finally she pealed off her gray leggings they were stained...badly with long tendrils of wetness all having there origin from a large dark spot between the thighs. She looks down at her panties and scoffed”pee proof huh” then looking back at the stained leggings She cleaned up her mess and read over the packaging on her dresser it read. “Pee proof panties five pack/ perfect for ANY mishaps” She grabbed a clean pair and realized it was her last pair A hot pain of embarrassment spread throughout her chest thinking back, this was the seventh time this happened but never to this extent it was always just small spirts here and there but never a full mess though it had all started last week after a car wreck it just got worse with every incident she sighed and pulled on a low cut gray shirt along with a mid length skirt just above the knees She set her laundry in the washer, grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and threw on her coat on her way out the door Another less unpleasant car ride later she arrived at the store, it was pretty big and a member of a large chain As she heads in she downs the last of her water and tosses it in the recycling bin She pushes her cart through row after row grabbing some groceries a few boxes of bullets from sporting goods and a few bottles of alcohol Then finally the last thing on her list She had been thinking about for awhile but overcoming her pride She pushes her cart down the hygiene aisle and winces and she grabs certain product of the shelf and into her cart then heads to checkout There was only one checkout land available and it hat three people in it she just got at the end of the line After a minute or two of waiting she felt a certain fullness of the bladder,and despite her...track record she decided to hold it, and after about ten minutes she was about to burst and was finally getting checked out with a few beeps and an overly talkative cashier just as he finishes, he looks and says “whats with the face something wrong” just as he looks down to the item that just declined to see one twelve pack of absorbent women’s Briefes, he looks back up to see relief on her face She was full to bursting and the loud noise of the barcode scanner declining sets her off,as at first a slow trickle soon spills out at full blast the hot urine rushing through her panties causing them to cling close to her skin... soon its done and she comes to the realization that she just pissed her self , her face reddens and she grabbed her items and rushed to the bathroom She calmly stepped into the large stall and opened the plastic bag the “briefs” were in and pulled down her panties, thankfully her skirt seemed to be spared as she wiped up and pulled on the brief She walked through the near empty parking lot with a minor yet still unfamiliar bulk between her legs yet she walked on, as she passed by a man he tried grabbing her and only managed to get a grip on the elastic band on her skirt She kicked his legs out from under him the man fall still holding the skirt pulling it down with him She sees another man out of the corner of her eye, holding a remarkably similar dagger to the ones she had in her possession but despite this mystery she was outnumbered and stepping out of her still on the ground skirt as she runs Upon reaching her car she locked the door and speed home Too Tired too think she ate a quick dinner took her shirt off and flopped into her bed Chapter two going She woke up around seven and stiffly crawled out of bed After a cup of coffee she looked at the situation someone killed the man at the event, whose name turned out to be Jim, that same someone probably sent those men who attacked her And here she is sitting in her house putting these things together in only her bra and the same brief she put on yesterday She goes to her room gets dressed in an large shirt and leggings only she looks in the mirror looks herself up and down “pretty normal” she murmured to herself as she pulls up the large shirt witch was about down to her lower thighs... to see that the Beige outside of the brief was pretty clear to see through the thin black leggings She inspects the match box she found and notes it has the name of a club on it On her way out she pulls on her coat and climbed in her car and made her way to the address on the match box It was a rather seedy bar with few people speaking in hushed tones She orders herself a drink sits down and begins watching for anyone who could be behind the murderer, after nearly 9 hours of sitting around drinking and waiting with a few bathroom breaks, finally she sees someone walk out from behind the counter from seemingly nowhere, they exit the bar and she as they climbed into there car wrote down there license plate She having got what she needed drove home and drank to celebrate her discovery Normal routine and she flopped in bed ditching everything but her bra and briefs Waking up is unpleasant when you have a hangover even more so in her situation She woke up cold and clammy and pulled her sheets off to see a large wet patch on the bed and to realize her brief was soaked” i wet the bed” she murmured to herself And a new voice confirmed with”yes did you naughty little baby” says the voice in a seductive female tone, She turns in surprised and sees a woman sitting on a arm chair “your making a mistake investing the murder” the woman scoffed “The names Evelyn” the women states “and your Armani correct?”Evelyn was correct Armani quickly pulled a gun from under her bed and pointed it at Evelyn”who are you Armani asked “hey no need to go ballistic” Evelyn jokes before being shot in the kneecap “WHAT WAS THAT FOR”Evelyn screamed “Trespassing”Armani quickly replies “now who do you work for” she asked Evelyn grins despite the pain” you need not to know but maybe I’ll tell you on one condition “and what is that” Armani replied then retrained her gun to The woman’s forehead then she noticed a small hisss was heard and upon looking at the women’s things to see a yellow liquid leaking out the women’s face contorted in embarrassment, Armani chuckled to her self but stopped mostly because of the sagging brief she was wearing so clearly Evelyn looked Armani in the eyes and said three things” first say sorry and fix my knee, next give me a chance to clean up then”she grinned”then...make out with me”Evelyn said in an oh so seductive tone Armani smiled”maybe I just might... shoot you in the head” a pull of the trigger and the problems were solved or at least for now Evelyn wasn’t dead only knocked out by the rubber rounds, She grabs the unconscious body and lays her out on the bed front down only to see a large wet spot on the women’s nylon pants Armani sighed and stripped the wet pants off of Evelyn to see emerald green silk panties saturated to the maximum With a slightly cruel thought Armani pulled off the panties wiped her off and put a brief on her Looking at herself she also cleaned up tossing the soggy briefs and putting on a fresh pair, she looked in the mirror as she was pulling a skirt on and thought “that was a disaster” before putting her shirt on and throwing her bed sheets to the washer Soon Evelyn was slowly waking to find herself bound to a chair, thinking back this had not gone well for her in fact not only had she been apprehended but she pissed her self as well”what do we have here” Armani asked “ready to talk” Evelyn only then realized she had to go to the bathroom “ok ok just let me go to the bathroom”Evelyn knew when she was beat “ talk first” Armani replied smugly “Fine i was sent to capture you by the or-“ she cut herself off suddenly clenching and holding her legs together Armani grinned and kneeled down grabbed Evelyn’s legs and pulled them apart then with her other hand pressed down on The women’s abdomen and with a quick push a large bulge formed between her thighs then the mess spread throughout the brief Armani looked and said”see you went to the bathroom now talk” “i was sent to capture you by the organization i don’t know anything i was just in it for the money i was just following orders” Evelyn pleaded “Fine “Armani reached for the knot at the back of the chair and let the ropes fall slack Evelyn stood up with an unfamiliar bulk and a large mess between her legs “this feels kinda nice i could get use to this” she thought because being shoved out of the house “ hey at least give me a skirt or something”Evelyn demanded before being shoved out the door without a word Days four pass and Armani has a plan... She unlocked the door and took her coat off, she had been doing smaller cases to ward off any suspecting onlookers As per usual she striped down removing her shirt and undoing the buttons on her skirt. the usual situation had happened a car passed too quickly to recklessly clipping the back of her car and jolting a brief jet of urine loose into the brief she was wearing yet she stripped them off too and went too her dresser pulling out pair of cotton panties and looking at the package of briefs only one left she had been going through two or three a day with nine or ten small incidents a day nothing too major, though it was kind of embarrassing having to wear them but better then piss running down her thighs every time she gets startled Just to be safe she put on three pairs of panties... it was about eight o’clock and she was sitting at the table eating her dinner in only her undergarments After finishing up she was washing her plate off and a motorcycle speed by loudly she dropped the dish in the sink in surprise when it wore off she felt a familiar warmth The damage wasn’t to great only one layer was wet but too be safe she put on a fourth pair of panties before bed Chapter three What do you believe It was a cool morning with rays of sunshine glaring through the closed blinds She woke up slowly and sat up “what a nice morning “ she thought sarcastically And then with the realization that a coldness was setting in she threw off the covers and looked down to see the entire sheet was soaked through and so were the panties she wore After mentally scolding herself for letting this happen the second time,she took all the sheets of and tossed them in the washer she took everything off and climbed into a hot bath and relaxed, After about thirty minutes she crawled out wrapped a towel around herself and went to get dressed She had a plan for today and she was going too dress for it First she pulled one the last brief ,then four pairs of panties over it one of them being triple seated cotton another being one of her pee proof panties the third being laced silk the last being a pair of emerald green silk panties that felt fitting for the situation Then she slipped into a bra with a chain mail one over it, and she slipped a small single shot .22 pistol into a small pocket of the bra And as embarrassing as it was she pulled over the one romper like onesie and snapped it shut at the crouch She pulled on a pair of green pantyhose and set of light gray leggings on that still had some discolored stains from last time Then simple athletic shorts with a navy blue pleated skirt After that she slipped a kevlar vest and a pair of shoulder holsters A small gun in the pocket of her shorts A side holster over the skirt with a .38 revolver And a simple black shirt Almost ready she grabbed an ammo bag and made sure it had at least to magazines for everything along with some first aid supplies Then she slung a pump acton shot gun over her shoulder She pulled on her coat and downed a bottle of water and a quick breakfast Then she hit the road After an hour of driving she pulled up to what was supposed to be an abandoned military base... it wasn’t abandoned She stepped inside and quietly crepe until she grabbed a small almost unnoticeable handle in the floor”exactly where she said it would be” she thought as she lifted the handle and opened the hatch, as she creeps down the narrow staircase she feels a few drops escape into the soft padding between her legs. But at last she reached the bottom and there was a long concrete hallway with a single woman patrolling up and down the hallway, she slipped along the shadows getting closer and closer the she simply pulled out a white handkerchief,jumped behind the guard held it over their mouth and after a second the guard fell to the ground' she rummaged through the guards equipment the only thing worth while being a taser. She stood back up took one last look at the guard and saw the large yellow puddle that had had leaked out of the their unconscious body reminding her of a small pain form her bladder. She pressed forward and swiftly yet near silently opened the door at the end of the hallway to see... a... ballroom with people dancing slowly in circles yet strangely completely and utterly silent. She walked through people turned there heads to look but they all had the same face it was... disturbing Finally she reached the end there was one of these... things alone then it walked up to her then with a surprising powerful grip it began to do the same walz as everyone else she had no choice but to play along, soon she felt herself clenching as the moves of the dance became more and more extravagant until it held her close, she felt a sharp pain in her chest as the thing released her with a dagger sticking out of her chest “ but how” she wondered for she was wearing body armor, she staggered back as spirts of urine started seeping into the brief she finally fell and drifted off. Only to wake up with her arms and legs belted to the cold metal interrogation table she laid upon. She looked at the situation she was bound to a table she still seemed to have all her weapons on her, her brief was soaked but lucky it wasn’t leaking and somehow she still felt full up. After a minute or two someone walked through the door It was Evelyn wearing only a corset and a short pleated skirt she looked then with a gleeful expression said” hey its you again, ya know because of you i got taken off field duty and got moved to interrogator””how did you like the show...it was caused by a halogenic gas ““but hey were friends and all i mean i sent you all that information” Armani replied “ just untie me all right” Evelyn grinned and stated” not without some fun first” before prancing up to Armani and giggling as she pushed down on Armani’s abdomen after a brief moment both of the women heard the low hisssss as Armani slowly let it trickle out without trying to stop it but most of it stopped was stopped by the four layers of panties she wore, soon after a warm mess spilled into the leaking brief but stopped Armani felt she let enough out Evelyn laughed and said “ lets get you cleaned up” before undoing the belts on her legs and pulling down her shorts and skirt next the leggings”you’ve pissed these before” as she removed the dry yet stained leggings then the pantyhose and she looked at the plane white snap on” oooh scandalous” as she unbuttoned the crotch piece to see emerald green silk panties...after a laughing fit from Evelyn she said “ ooh you must be pissing these worst than I use too” before removing them and the dry silk ones she wore below, then there it was the pee proof panties contained most of it along with the cotton ones “ i use to wear stuff like these before that incident with you” she says peeling them off then at last she looked at the soaking wet brief Evelyn broke the sides before lifting them out rolled them up and tossed them in the trash bin Armani spoke up” do you have any of these briefs” she asked shyly Evelyn grinned and restated “ i use to wear stuff like these before that incident with you... I decided i didn’t need them it was only a intimation mission ... boy was i wrong” “then i decided to switch to something stronger”she lifted up her skirt and shows off a white pull-ups with padding all the way front and back instead of just on the bottom like the brief and a wetness indicator that showed dry...for now...Evelyn turned left and right showing off her pull-up”trust me they hold a-lot more””I’ve been having plenty of wetting lately... in fact” she lifts her skirt a little higher as she, with ease released a stream of urine while the wetness indicator turned a clear blue” I’ve been wearing them everywhere” she stated “i never have to be desperate of embarrassed again I’ve just been pissing my self whenever even if there’s a bathroom” she lets her skirt back down and says “ here lets get you one as well” she reached into a pocket and unfolded the soft fabric outside of the pull-ups then produced a bottle of talcum powder from who knows wear proceeded to powder Armani’s crotch and pull on the pull-ups Armani was ashamed too be getting changed but it did feel good having the thicker padding between her thighs Evelyn put all of Armani clothes back on her including those emerald green silk panties that she was still laughing about Evelyn finished uniting Armani and helped her stand back up “lets keep going”Armani proclaims and they together head deeper in the base Soon they after sneaking through seemingly abandoned hallways they reached what looked like a large conference room Capter four Knifepoint “It seems like some kind of meeting”Armani pointed out “AND I WASENT INVITED””give me that shotgun” raged Evelyn And so she did handing the gun to Evelyn and drawing her .44 revolver Then all hell broke loose, the two marched through the unsuspecting crowd both weapons loaded with rubber bullets soon the fifty sixty people the were assembled were all on the ground... all except one who stood alone in the crowd the lady held a combat knife and charged Armani held her ground as she felt the warm bulge of the absorbent material swelling between her thighs not even knowing she has pisses herself as the women took a stab with reckless abandon and immediately got pistol wiped and knocked out Armani looked and said”lets try to sneak next time now I’m going to take this uniform“Armani took off her coat shirt skirt and leggings putting everything in the bag leaving her only in the onesie, Evelyn piped up” ooh i might need to get one of those” She slipped the uniforms big dark blue shirt and put on the uniforms pencil skirt Evelyn laughter broke the silence as she pointed up the women Armani stripped was wearing a similar pull-up to her own, except it had cartoonish cheerleaders wearing oversized diapers printed on it along with the wetness indicator that instead of being a single line was a bunch of stars disappeared one at a time depending on how wet it was...there were no stars... Evelyn rummaged around and found in a large pouch of a utility belt two more similar ones depicting all the latest cartoon princesses “ one for you one for me” she said and gave one to Armani who did not see the appeal and shoved it in her bag “like i would ever were that” she thought “In fact i could go for a change now”Evelyn grinned unbuttoning her skirt and letting it fall down she stepped out of the skirt and bent down to pick it up practically pointing out the large brown stain showing through her soaked pull-ups Armani mockingly said” you couldn’t hold it” , Evelyn replied in a seductive tone” what is a girl to do” “and i know you probably didn’t hold it that well”, she had guessed correctly Evelyn finished cleaning and powdering herself up and slipped into the childish garment before buttoning her skirt back up “Lets go”Armani said and they pressed onward After looking around they found what they were looking for, a windowless door with the label administrations office, Armani felt a pressure in her bowels Upon entering they saw a lone women in a tailored suit with long pink hair staring at around twelve computer monitors each one with a different camera feed “I’ve been expecting you” the women states” “cliché” booed Evelyn Ignoring her the women continued”you did good to make it this far for now its time to meet... your...d o o m” as the women flips out a six inch folding knife “NOW ITS ON”Evelyn yells as she try’s to rack a shell in the shotgun only too find herself out of ammo not discouraged she flips the gun around and grabs the barrel and holds the gun like a baseball bat The women turns to show her face... a face with one robotic eye and with elegant accuracy the throws the blade, it flys centimeters from Evelyns hip slicing the string holding the button on her skirt””missed me”Evelyn taunted only for her skirt to fall down showing the childish pull-ups “i didn’t think such childish garments came in such a size nor did i know you were such a baby” The women said with a smugness Evelyn did not respond with words but with acton ramming the stock of her shotgun into the women’s head, the women fell to her knees but recovered quickly and dive rolled behind her and slammed an open palm into the back of Evelyn’s calf Evelyn fell down and swore as the stars fade from her pull-ups along with a large brown bulge that had formed“see...all you are is a incompetent idiotic incontinent traitorous diaper wearing child” the women states with a hint of rage Armani trying to get the jump on the women took a shot with her revolver the loud bang of the shot startling a jolt of urine into the damp pull-up only for the women to cleave it in half with her knife Armani prepared for a last stand drawing a combat knife she charged the women immediately slashed the elastic band of her skirt slicing both gun belts as well Armani slashed at the women and made a clean cut to the front of her suit causing it too fall from the women’s shoulders and hang at her hips showing off a tight sports bra The women brought the knife down in a downward strike yet Armani dogged to the side the knife only cutting off the side of the shorts Armani wore causing them too fall to the ground Armani slashed at the women’s hand throwing the women’s knife across the room with that the women lunged taking them both to the ground she grabbed Armani’s leggings and yanked them off along with the pantyhose but then Armani kicked her away the women got up close and managed to rip Armani‘s shirt off with her well manicured nails leaving Armani wearing nothing over the snap on onesie “a childish costume” the women scoffed as they both stood squared up The women kicked low hitting both of the snaps then she grappled Armani and flung her over her shoulder pulling the onesie off alone with picking back up her knife and causing Armani to let out a five second long stream of urine as well at that moment Armani realized that”she was doing this on purpose”Armani could only wonder Armani stood in only the ballistic vest and the emerald green silk panties the women lunged and pulled the vest off of Armani then pulling down her panties as Armani pulled down the women’s pants This left Armani in her lacy satin...and the women in a pair of pink ruffled panties that had a stain on the bottom A brief moment of silence passed only broken by a familiar sound hisssss They both looked down at the others crotch The women stared at the yellow stream flowing freely from Armani’s panties Armani stared at the long stream of urine that emanated from a clear dark splotch contrasting the vibrant pink of the ruffed panties a splotch that appeared in the same spot as the discolored stain They both in that moment throw their knives Almost as if in slow motion the knives collided in the air flying by and cutting through the side of the others panties Both of the under garments fell to the ground The women looks at Armani’s pull-up that was still leaking through “how ironic” The women thought Armani looked down at the women’s crotch and thought “how hypocritical” as she looked at the bright pink cloth diaper that was so thick she couldn’t even put her legs together “she must have more accidents then me to be leaking through something so thick” At last both streams stopped and they looked each others eyes and the women said “we are the same you and i we were both pissing are-selves throughout the fight we both are on the verge of messing are-selves we both woke up in a wet bed this morning we. Are. The. Same” and Armani acknowledge that everything she just said was true *three days earlier Chapter five Mile Sonia drove home after a long day at work soon she pulled up and got out of her car entered her house and stripped out of her suit and she looked in the mirror here she stood in her cloth diaper, not only that she had been so nervous one point today that she shit herself, oh the embarrassment she could swear everyone could tell, she changed out of it and cleaned herself off She went to her drawer and disappointing only saw one diaper left, she would have to do laundry unfortunately the washer was already running She put on the diaper had dinner and went to sleep That night It hounded at her just because she got yelled by her superiors she shit herself her mined just kept coming back to it probably everyone could tell yet soon she drifted to sleep She woke up and crawled out of bed with a ringing at the door she was too tired to be self aware she grabbed her mug of coffee downed most of it and went to the door not bothering to check who it was and flung it open to see a door to door salesman she panicked and came to her senses and immediately started pissing her already wet diaper wearing nothing else besides her diaper and bra the door to door salesman saw her fling open the door and immediately piss herself and leak onto the floor He just backed away She shut the door in an panicking fluster”i just pissed my self in front of a random person”and in this panic she promptly sat down and tried to calm down she relaxed her muscles... all of them and she sat there as she unloaded her bladder... and her... bowls shoving a massive mess into her diaper After ten minutes she calmed down mopped the floor and cleaned up throwing all her diapers into the washer to find she had no detergent She never was fully toilet trained she always wet the bed and pisses herself.....constantly its just how it was... She pulled a pair of pink ruffle panties and hoped nothing bad would happen as unprotected as she was she put on some white leggings and short shorts she climbed in her car After a thirty minutes drive she exits her car and walks across the parking lot soon she walks in the store as she walks along she sees one of her employees about ten feet away in the hygiene aisle, it was Evelyn who looked slyly grinned lifted up her skirt revealing a slim white pull-up and Sonia watched as she began pissing herself...willingly? Sonia wondered what would make her do such a thing before Evelyn bent her knees slightly and shit herself then bent over seeming showing off and picked up a box of pull-ups she set down as well as a bottle of baby powder Sonia decided it wasn’t her business and got detergent checked and went to the bathroom before leaving only to walk in and see Evelyn from below the stall pulling down a messy pull-up and sliding on a fresh one “ how could she not care like that anyone could see” Sonia wondered suddenly she heard the sound of the stall door being unlocked Sonia swiftly fled from the restroom and walk towards the door while nervously thinking” shes behind she will recognize me she has to be behind me she must know my secret but i cant look behind me then she will know i know” suddenly her knees locked up as a spirt of urine slipped out she clenched as hard as she could but that only made it worse as urine cascaded through her shorts down her leggings and leaving a discolored stain on her pink panties She went home thoughtless took the wet shorts leggings and panties off And started a load of laundry She Put on a pair of pink panties and climbed in bed and fell asleep despite it only being noon Sonia woke up too the same loud annoying alarm clock a quick slap was all it needed to quite down she sat up slowly and felt a coldness, she lifted up the covers to see that the pink panties she was wearing had done nothing to stop bed wetting ... again not only that, she had shit herself in her sleep sadly this wasn’t new after a second she felt the need to go again and decided it wasn’t worth getting up, she freely released what she could of held easily the warm liquid spreading through her panties and leaking onto the bed...she laid in her mess for thirty minutes, before getting up making and eating breakfast then getting changed Soon she laid down gave herself a heavy coating of baby powder and slipping the pink childish cloth diaper and attaching the velcro that held it on She pulled the same pink ruffle panties as yesterday that now had an stain to remind her of that incident she put on a suit and went to work... She watched the camera feed as the two of them ripped through her guards and finished downing her water bottle right at they finished up after a minute of Evelyn changing they entered the room she tried to be as intimidating as one can possibly be while pissing herself in fear Chapter six Ending They looked each other in the eyes and Sonia charged forwards only for Armani to punch her Sonia fell onto her knees and let it go as she released a massive mess into her diaper Only seconds later it was followed up by Armani doing the same as the tight constants of the pull-up push it against her skin Armani sat down beside Sonia and asked “join us” “yes” she replied simply “well now we have to get out of here”Armani stated”we also all need to get changed” Sonia pointed out Sonia stood up and opened one of her desk drawers and pulled out a bag of wet wipes and a cloth diaper she changed herself while Armani woke up Evelyn” wake up” Armani said before slapping her...hard After a few minutes they got Evelyn up to speed then she changed into a new white pull-up and Now it was Armani’s turn “ do you have anymore pull-ups” she asked “nope” Evelyn replied sassily” you just have to wear the princess one” Evelyn finished Armani cleaned up but felt ashamed to be putting on the colorful pull-up yet she found it strangely attractive she put it on grabbed all the clothes on the floor only bothering to put on the onesie soon they departed headed for Armani’s house When they got there Armani gathered all her stuff and loaded it into the suv soon they were bound for Sonia’s home in which there were moving into” your house was on the map you will be safer here”as they pulled up in front of a large house they upon entering they Evelyn and Armani stood in awe of the overly fanciful house Armani stood and didn’t particularly notice the urine flooding out with a hissssss Evelyn looked over and said”that impressive huh” Armani only then felt the wetness between her thighs she blushed with embarrassment “i see were your coming from” Evelyn said with a hissss of her own After an hour of two Evelyn went to the store to get some things and Armani finished getting everything moved in then she laid down on the couch and took a nap Armani is awoken with a sharp pain and felt a mess entering her pull-up she looked up to see Evelyn had been pushing down on her abdomen “what was that for” she asked “nothing in particular” Evelyn replied just we’ve have been told to lay low for about a month, also catch” she says tossing a 115 pack of pull-ups “for you” * a month later* Armani entered the building to see Evelyn lounging about”rough day?” She asked mocking the large wet spot on her pants and had a leaking pull-up “Don’t ask questions you don’t want to know the answers to”Armani stated before walking off to her room Armani had another lead on the case but first she needed to clean up first... she walked over to the dresser she kept her pull-ups in she found it to be near empty only two left she didn’t think she went through them so quickly she only used four or five a day and often one at night and she had pretty regular accidents but rarely messed “ehh “she thought “it won’t be a problem as she put on the second to last one and shoved to other in her bag along with a pair of panties just in case She put on some clothes threw on her coat and called” i will be back in a few She walked out the door and drove off Whey they had asked Sonia what she knew about the murder she proclaimed that she only organized it she had no part in the motive Armani Was driving lone forest roads on a cold day to a hidden outpost she only saw the coronets to coronets that she saw while looking through Sonia’s computer She stepped out of the car and immediately felt a chill run through her body but sure enough she found a door to a concrete bunker she made sure her revolver was loaded she placed the explosives by the door lit the fuse and dived for cover she landed unsure if it had it properly only for the blast boom through the empty forest, causing a pleasant warmth too grow between her thighs... she stood up and stepped past the rubble of the door she shivered seeing that it was only colder down there she descended down the damp concrete stairs She came to a door with the temperature being about thirty degrees and a clamminess settling in where the fabric of the pull-up had been saturated none the lest she cracked the door to see only only one guard who was wearing a heavy button-up one piece jumpsuit the guard Strangely the guard had a look of desperation with her eyes close and her jaw clenched the women twisting and pushing her legs together in a attempt to hold it in “she must be desperate” she took aim at said guard and she tensed up she pulled the trigger a small amount of urine leaking out and then...click the gun misfired, Armani felt the urine flood and leak out of her pull-up while the women turned only to see Armani and a brief expression of fear ran across her face before a wave of relief “she must not piss herself very often” Armani thought The women held the face of simple relief for a minute Armani looked down at the women’s crotch to see no wetness “this job must require her to wear a diaper”Armani considered as the guard seeing Armani blushed violently her face red with embarrassment she just fell over and passed out with shame Armani walked up and unbuttoned the jumpsuit to she too see she was wearing regular panties but they were soaked through with a large mess in the back, she looked to see that the suit itself had what looked like a cloth diaper built in between the legs Armani looked around to find a locker with a identical jumpsuit “this could be useful”Armani though as she shoved it in her bag in said locker she also found a bag of wet wipes that she used to clean up and change into her last pull-up she slipped it one the fabric being cold against her skin She continued down a long hallway finally entering a room with a long row of cells only for a swift all oxygen cut off from her brain she collapsed the women stood over Armani’s unconscious body “suspect apprehended” she said into a radio she noticed a puddle leaking out and lifted up Armani’s skirt “place her in cell six B” “and bring her a diaper change” Evelyn laid about bored and alone in the large house wearing only her undergarments and a childishly printed pull-up she decided too snoop around some She came too Sonia’s room and began rummaging in her drawers Evelyn laughed loudly and she looked in Sonia’s bottom drawer “all of her panties and diaper are pink” she says cracking up see sees a pair different from to rest... a dark blue pull on swim diaper “oh i have to try this on” she says along with grabbing a pink bikini top from her room she took off her wet pull-up and slipped a clean one with the swim diaper over it she put on a bikini top and despite to being fifty degrees she dived in and stayed perfectly dry she swam back up and took a deep breath then swam to the bottom “now for the final test” she thought as she flooded into the diaper she felt a stark contrast between the cold water and the warmth between her thighs she was happy” wait till I put one on Armani” she said only half joking Sonia stood yelling at one of her employees ‘what do you mean you lost it” she demanded in her most intimidating voice as a steady flow of urine was absorbed by her diaper.“ i must of been pick pocketed or something the hard drive was in my pocket one second gone the next” the employee stated in a panic squirming“please don’t fi-“ she was cut off by a long hissss as she jammed her legs together in a attempt to stem the flow the employee drooped her head in shame “I’m sorry i yelled” Sonia said apologizing “go get yourself cleaned up and take the day off “Sonia said “can you keep a secret “Sonia asked, the women nodded Sonia stood up and pulled down her pants and undergarments giving the women a flash of her wet pink cloth diaper before pulling her pants back up The women smile and thanked Sonia on her way out Only minutes later a video call appeared on all her screens “ have you apprehended the targets yet Sonia” the voice asked menacingly “no i have not” Sonia replied while pissing herself violently “do so swiftly” and the call ended Sonia hoped they didn’t notice the urine that was still running down her legs Armani slowly opened her eyes as she began recollecting what lead her here soon she snapped awake she was suspended form the ceiling about ten feet above the ground held up by two long elastic ropes connected to a harness she was wearing that had belts holding each thigh connected to a belt on her hips similar too what a bungee jumper would use the only difference being the locks holding it on she also noticed the new pull-up she was wearing that depicted cartoonish cheerleaders wearing oversized diapers she felt embarrassed that not only someone had changed her that they put that on her, it was dry... for now She soon realized her hands were gripped onto two handles on the elastic rope as soon as she released them for a moment she held shakily upright until something hit her in the back shooting urine into the aforementioned pull-up she flipped upside down and swinging back and forth before she saw the guard that must of captured her who was wearing a jumpsuit that must of been the guards uniform “so your awake” the guard said joyfully “ i haven’t reported your capture to headquarters yet... lets talk first” she says Armani looked and said” have i seen you before” The women laughed” i was about to bring that up you the one who stole me uniform off my unconscious body and left me to be A LAUGHINGSTOCK” she raged “Now its my turn” she hits a button on a small remote the ropes expand and contract swinging Armani around each sharp turn shooting a little more urine into the pull-up And it stops leaving Armani hanging upside down and finally lets loose as a yellow streams run out of the top of the pull-up down her chest and thankfully missing her head “WHO IS THE BABY NOW” the guard screamed maniacally As Armani hung upside down she slowly and inconspicuous reached into a hidden pocket and pointed the small pistol at the guard the pistol made a quiet crack as the small bullet stuck the remote the cables released Armani hit the ground with a dive roll swiftly upper cutting the guard knocking her to the ground Sonia arrived home to see Evelyn laying back in the pool she walked up Evelyn looked and said” drink too much at the office?” In a snarky tone “if you made a mess in then pool your cleaning it” Sonia scolded she couldn’t see what Evelyn was wearing “you want a peek” Evelyn said seductively before strutting out of the pool showing off the blue swim diaper that had a large bulge in the back “Is that-” “yes”” did you-“ “also yes” “have you seen-“” she left””want me to join you””.......yes” Sonia stepped inside went to her room peeled off her wet pants and slid down her panties, she sighed and looked in the mirror, the bottom of the diaper was soaked through...it was shameful. She put on a fresh cloth diaper then slid on the swim diaper they really didn’t absorb that much and were covers more than anything else She put on a matching blue tie on bikini top and a swim skirt she looked out the window her room was on the third floor with a balcony above the pool She stood atop the railing bent her knees and jumped as she fell everything felt like slow motion as she fell through the air her bladder released... so did her bowls. Armani swiftly reached into a pocket of the dazed women’s the jumpsuit and pulled out what seemed to be a spare remote she set a 30 minute timer on it and in a cruel twist tore the guards jumpsuit off too see her beige panties it looked like she had been relying on the jumpsuit based of the countless resent stains but they were dry lowered another harness down and latched it on the guard clicking the lock shut and shoved the key into her shirt pocket the guard jolted up only too see the spare remote on the ground then to see Armani step on the raise max button and both began being pulled by the powerful winches hundreds of feet above them They stopped at forty feet the limit they would go with someone in them “Now here’s a fight” Armani said as she started swinging back and forth The guard said nothing as she twisted her legs together “I wish I was wearing a diaper” she thought nervously soon Armani swung back and put her feet forward hitting the guard with a massive kick the guards hands would of immediately shot to her crotch if not for the fact she had to hold on to the handles to stay upright tears rolled from her eyes as Armani watched as the nice beige color of her panties swiftly formed into a dark spot it was all clear too see the harness not helping and it covered nothing urine ran down her legs as she lost all control in a clear display of defeat she went limp no longer holding her legs together let a mess push clearly push into her panties Armani just let go in her pull-up she had no point trying to hold it for twenty more minutes Sonia hit the water the... contents of her diaper settled down Evelyn looked starstruck “Did you just-“ “yes””are you-“ yeah””did you p-“shamefully”yes and yes” They both settled down in the pool and relaxed Armani hung there”only ten minutes left” she thought as the other women hung there limp Armani watched as more urine freely spilled out rewetting her panties Armani also felt more urine get absorbed into the near full pull-up as suddenly she felt a jerk so did the guard as she lifted her head up they began lowering soon they hit base the harnesses unlocked automatically the guard seemed to disappear Armani took off the pull-up rolled it up and tossed it into the corner of the room she did a full search of the abandoned jumpsuit the the sewn in diaper was soaked and a single hard drive was found she slipped it into her shirt pocket she found her bag right outside the room she choose too just put on her panties a pair of emerald green silk panties Armani found most of her things that had been stuffed in her bag sadly it lacked one thing...pants she left the same way she came Evelyn and Sonia had been relaxing in the pool when Armani’s car pulled up and she ran inside “was she wearing and pants” Evelyn asked “well neither are we” Sonia replayed jokingly “it’s about time to get out””yeah” Armani rushed to the nearest computer not even bothering to get cleaned up she slammed the hard drive in and opened it up...it was a text file with a long chunk of numbers and some orders she input the numbers into a maps program and the spot showed...in the middle of a lake nine hours away Chapter 7 long road Armani after thinking for a minute Armani decided to take a shower and go to bed and so she did Evelyn noted she only had two pull-ups left then one She crawled in bed and passed out The next morning Evelyn woke up dry for once and stepped out of her room too see Armani with a small duffel bag “whats this about“ Evelyn pounded aloud”road trip, here’s your bag” “and change into this” tossing her a emerald green cloth diaper,...she loved it already “Were taking a taxi to avoid suspicion” Soon they all climbed in the taxi that had pulled up Evelyn lounged in the crowded backseat of the taxi unable too do as much as put her legs together “these cloth diapers are kinda nice” she thought “so were are we going” Evelyn asked not filled in on the plan “Key lake” Armani explained About four hours into the ride the driver stopped and looked back “you girls need a bathroom brake” she asked “Nope” ”nada” ”not at all” they replied “are you sure you’ve been drinking a lot back there” “Maybe i will”Evelyn said unbuckling her seatbelt in the still moving car Hisssssssss “Are you wearing...diapers” the driver asked Yes” answered Armani Evelyn didn’t say a word and lifted up her skirt Sonia just nodded “Huh i always thought about trying some on for long drives like this but i end up getting too nervous and decided I’ll just go in my pants I even got a plastic seat cover and everything. After a few more hours of back and forth conversation and a few accidents in the back Surely enough a tricking was heard from the front They pulled up in the front of a decent hotel paid the fair and put up for the night after tossing the three wet *two messy* into the places run down washer The next morning Evelyn awoke to see the others had rented a bunch of diving equipment “What’s really going on here”Evelyn asked The organization should have a base deep below the lake were here to find it” Armani fully explained the plan Soon they were on the beach carrying their waterproof bags of gear and walking with the bulky cloth diapers under their swim diapers They padded out too the middle of the lake stripped of the clothes they were wearing Armani was nervous,feeling her stomach churn and cramp Sonia had done this plenty times before And Evelyn was ecclesiastical and slightly aroused by the idea They dove into the water too hopefully re-emerge soon Nearly after an hour of swimming they found it... a hatch they entered After going through a manual airlock they found themselves standing face to face with three guards all wearing the same white underwear and bra with nothing over them one seemed too be straining Evelyn stepping forward said “here let me show you how its done” she walked up too the straining guard who had numerous yellow stains that showed clearly on the white material “ take your hands off your crotch” the women slowly complied “ get in a more comfortable position stop forcing your legs together” “now the past doesn’t matter nor does the future don’t worry everyone has been embarrassed just ignore it make it a choice not something your body tells you two just breath in and.........release “the women expression became blissful just as her pants were becoming yellow “Did you just coach her through wetting herself””yes, yes I did”Evelyn said smugly The women opened her eyes too see her comrades were on the ground the intruders were gone Armani looked at the three hallways they had come upon”we should split up” Armani said “Yeah lets spit up and end up pissing and messing ourselves along with about everyone else absurd amounts in a short time in oddly erotic fashions only for our story too end up on a piss fetish website with minimal attention and no part three”Evelyn said with no regards to the forth wall “Good idea” Sonia stated before taking off the first hallway Armani took the second rushing into the darkness Evelyn was left with no choice but too travel down the third, the diaper between her legs dryer then she would of liked it but no matter how much she squeezed nothing came out Armani found herself in a large assembly hall with hundreds of people all wearing the same white near translucent shorts “what is this place”she wondered suddenly people started moving she ducked into the nearest door too see a locker room she had a plan Sonia entered a room her vision blinked and she found herself on a stage and she began too preform dancing with grace suddenly she stopped, urine flowing free down her legs despite any protection she was wearing the crowd watched silent she tried to continue but she couldn’t, feeling a mess into her diaper she saw the crowd...unimpressed Evelyn walked down the near empty hallways”i bet the others are having fun” she thought as she looked onward at the empty hallway after rounding a corner she saw a sign in front of a room labeled dressing she rushed in only to see a plethora of outfits from panties to full costumes she intended too have fun Moon woke up even more tired then when she went too sleep she sighed “wet the bed again” as she got up and stepped outside it was chilly perfect for a bike ride her house was far away enough that she didn’t need to get dressed she hopped on her bike feeling urine against her skin “i need a change”she thought taking off on her bike Armani quickly opened a unlocked locker then grabbed the uniform inside the outfit being a strange pick for a uniform it had no benefits or insignia it was...strange she pulled on the uniform’s bottoms over her own and took her top off then replaced it with the white one she looked in the dressing room mirror the blue cover of the swim diaper showed through clearly “it doesn’t matter”she thought as she walked out of the dressing room as her stomach churned and twisted Sonia woke up “the gas” she thought as she sat up she was in a lab laying on a table with her clothes missing and wearing only some plastic panties she felt liquid sloshed in the bottom it was uncomfortably warm she looked at the other rows of tables each one having another person laying atop them in the same outfit then she recognized some on the far end she walked over it was one of her employees the same one that pissed herself in front of her...but wait that girl was still at base then who was this Evelyn was having fun in the strange room filled to the brim with completely unused clothes the only things that had been used wear some plain white dresses that had evidently had seen some...use mostly because of the deep yellow stains on the front and back she tried on as much as she could and finally decided on a cheerleader outfit Evelyn decided that it was hers now along with many others as she went too the next room Moon road her bike down the worn trails scantily dressed and her undergarments filling up she let her mind wander as she effortlessly peddled “is what I’m doing right “ she thought before being cut off by a low hanging branch to the face she fell back his the ground with her crotch being submerged in the near full blue plastic panties she wore Armani snuck along the empty halls hopefully unnoticed before seeing a sign captain it said she burst in and pointed the gun from her dry bag a the first person she saw a woman with nearly white hairs despite not looking over thirty she sat a desk with countless unorganized papers she was wearing a lab coat over a skirt and long sleeve shirt they looked back with apprehension “do you belong her” she asked observing carefully Armani replied snappily “no now hands in the air” the women looked and said “ you don’t intend to shoot m-“ she was interrupted by being shot in the knee as the gun fired the door swung open knocking Armani forwards sending her face straight into the women’s crotch Armani’s face hit right as she heard a low hissss and then upon contact loud crinkling “well didn’t expect that”she said unsurely as a new person entered the room seeing a random person with their face in the bosses crotch “maybe i should leave” they said slowly backing out Sonia looked at the sleeping women wondering what was happening She was interrupted by technology roaring to life as a large machine almost like a 3d printer started depositing some strange substance on the platform in the center of it Sonia stood and watched as it began making...something Evelyn pranced into a pure white room only having one button on the inside Evelyn just had to press it. A robotic voice said “loading last simulation program no regrets” as the room changed around her soon at had recreated a large bar. Some as text appeared before her “you have no set goal with this program please act to your own accord time will pass on the outside with a minute to hour ratio” Evelyn thought “well i always wanted to try this” as she strolled to the bar and eyed up a lady Moon took her car too work to see that the boss was out With a sigh of relief she got to work at her desk somewhat glad that Sonia was out. moon couldn’t believe she had wet herself she knew and excepted that she wet the bed but not when she was awake After a while someone in a different bases uniform walked up and demanded her to come with them for a moment she was apprehensive but agreed Armani slowly stood back up looking the women wearing a lab coat in the eyes she stared back blushing “so i guess you know now” the women said as she did an uncomfortable gesture of lifting her skirt and showing the tab style diaper with a plastic outside she was wearing a loud hissssss broke the silence as the women’s once slim garment bulged outwards Armani looked the women in the eyes while the women...finished The hiss stopped after a few uncomfortable minutes the women forced a smile as she stood messing herself “Look just don’t make this any more unfortunate then it is” Armani said “How-a-boat a game” she says before being shot between the eyes and collapsing unconscious Armani felt her stomach churning she rapidly reached into drawer after drawer of the women’s desk she did indeed find the drawer she was looking for stealing a diaper out throwing off her undergarments they wouldn’t be enough as she taped the new dark purple diaper on It fit snugly, Armani took a deep breath and didn’t have much of a choice what happened next as the near liquid mess exploded against her skin and being absorbed by the diaper a solid mess forming of what wasn’t soaked up she felt it run down her legs then without a word she fell to the floor as guards rushed into the room a sharp pain hit and all went black Sonia watched and realized what the strange machine was making...a human It looked familiar but she only knew who it was once it finished it was.....her Sonia saw it open its eyes suddenly a women with nearly white hair despite not looking over thirty she was wearing a lab coat over a skirt and long sleeve shirt she gasped and looked at Sonia “you want to know what this is about right” Evelyn still in the simulation opened her eyes she didn’t sleep the simulation just skipped night Evelyn looked at the women lying next to her “that was enjoyable” she thought knowing that she had new...preferences She decided to toy with the simulation some she flipped up her skirt and tried to wet herself yet nothing she pushed and...the dam broke She fell over eyes closed her skirt up around her hips leaving everything to be exposed she flooded into the cloth diaper she was wearing into the swim diaper but it didn’t do much as it flooded on the bed and the simulation stopped Evelyn was laying on the floor of the white room and the robotic voice saying” total simulation time...ten minutes” Evelyn stayed still laying in the warm puddle forming around her when a team of guards stormed in the room a sharp needle like pain hit her in the back as she drifted away still wetting Moon was taken into another room and a needle was stabbed into her they drew some blood and told her to go back to work Sonia looked as the women pointed at each and every person laying on the tables “Isn’t science amazing” she said “we can light up the night we can travel the world in an instant and now we can create clones” she said as a look of bafflement spread across Sonia’s face “their are drawbacks of course such as it doesn’t work on men and there are some...biological changes””such as the fact that they” “well they”she lifted up her skirt revealing a diaper the thin plastic outside showing a yellow tint “they are completely... incontinent” the women finished as the diaper back bulged out some then settled down “suddenly Sonia was hit in the back of the head she feel to the ground piss leaking out of her full diaper All three of them were waking up Sonia stretched and attempted to sit up but that’s difficult when hanging from a bungeeing harness wearing nothing but a diaper that must of been nearly 8 inches thick she was wasn’t able to pull her legs together at all nor was said diaper dry Evelyn woke up in a similar situation along with the mess the harness pushed against her skin but she knew what to do Armani woke and immediately reached for a gun and found nothing or at least no clothes to hide one in, she immediately knew they had been captured after a few minutes of recounting, after looking around the large room with a smooth dark wood desk cluttered with photographs there was a women in a military uniform standing before the nude Armani, Armani felt embarrassed she strained her arms to find them bound to the comfortable leather chair The women looked and spoke “you do understand right” “Also trust me none shall find us here”she pulled back the blinds on a window to reveal a dark blue sky above and the white of clouds below “the sky is truly the limit” she said “Maybe i should explain” she said stating the same story told to Sonia “the process is not instant and the lack of control gets worse with time but other wise there identical to the original” “why i tell you may ask because we have had three clones go rouge all aboard this vessel two in there own cells” “and the third sitting on a chair in front of me” Armani couldn’t believe her “then were is the real one” Armani demanded “still in containment” the women replied “you can guess who the others are” the women stated as she paraded about the room “Now you may wonder why” “ simply we have a plan a plan that involves a large secret one a secret right beneath the town hall” “the real me is down there right now for i am a but a clone” “now you must be cold how about some clothes” she said drawing a diaper from her desk Sonia knew the flexible ties that held her they were common throughout the bases she also knew that protocol requires someone the check any suspended prisoners if they had any erratic behavior. she had a plan and Sonia began to pump her legs sending urine into the absurdly thick diaper despite said thickness it was nearly soaked through with at least three days worth of urine and a mess on the way Evelyn hit the ground as soon as she finished chewing through the Elastic cables it wasn’t the best landing but she was on solid ground She stood and waddled toward the door with the bulk between her legs hindering her pace. it was indeed quite the hindrance but her problem was solved as a guard entered the room Armani laid having no choice in the matter upon the floor as the women fastened the tapes of the diaper it was rather embarrassing but Armani saw a chance as the women stood up Armani proceeded to kick out her kneecap with a crunch the women collapsed backwards her skirt flying up showing amusingly black polkadot panties and with a low plop sound as the women felt a warm soft mess shape to her privates Armani jumped to and proceeded to stomp or her throat the women fell unconscious Armani reached into a closet and found just a plain jumpsuit she slid it on She rummaged in the desk and found beside countless diapers and other objects she found a small phone like console with a diagram of the large plane she was aboard Armani quickly messed with as many dials as possible in-till she was sure something would explode she sat in the captains chair and let out a deep sigh of relief while pissing her fresh diaper Sonia watched as the guard entered she was swinging violently the she stopped and hung limp the guard rushed over and unlocked the harness...last mistake Sonia slipped into the guards jumpsuit removing her own diaper and stealing a pair of panties from a pocket of the jumpsuit She stalked along the nearly empty structure avoiding eye contact with the few people she did pass Soon Sonia came across a window to see only sky it was a revaluation she needed as she continued down the hall Sonia reached the boiler room and ran inside seeing a women standing before the great contraption the women look and said “so you’ve finally arrived I’ve-“ she was cut off by Sonia ramming into her at full force the impact letting urine spill into Sonia‘s panties and The two rolled on the ground urine from both of them spilling onto the floor as Sonia slammed the women’s head into the floor Sonia stood up and made a choice she broke a pipe and left the room waiting for the blast Evelyn finished stripping the guard and pulled on the uniform sadly the guard didn’t have a change for her so she was unprotected Evelyn walked through the oddly full hallways brushing past unknowing people she had a dirty thought and started pissing...no-one cared as she snuck along and found what she was looking for an emergency exit..to the planes wing she stepped out the wind chilling her exposed skin fortunately the urine inside the suit was keeping her crotch and legs warm she she crept along the wing reaching the engine and jamming something into the intake before rushing inside it would blow soon No one knew the true cause of the blast maybe the messed up controls or the gas leak and the intake block but the plane burst and....I watched as the in almost zero gravity my own piss floating beside me I looked down... ... .... ..... And the world is falling
  22. Seven generations ago, the city of Green Massif was a very different place. It was so small that the marauding Tarnigants didn't even bother ransacking it during the Mylincian War, and so isolated that the war was over for 3 years before anyone in Green Massif heard it had begun. So when an abominable monster from unknown lands came to terrorize the village, there was no one there to help them. The simple folk of Green Massif had to toughen up or die. The monster, which came to be called the Bower Gulper, was quite a thing to behold. "Stories and woodcuts do not do it justice," they say, but there is nothing else to know it by, since everyone who saw it is now gone. The town hall is built into the shell it would retract into to sleep, giving the people of today some idea of its size. Even though the shell looked like a colossal example of something that would be cast upon a beach by the waves, the monster didn't look like it came from the depths. This is probably why some say the shell belonged to another monster it slew in battle, and that it merely appropriated it as a soldier crab does. But none of this is really known. What is clear is that the monster was a beast made of bones and red blood, not some soft and oddly-shaped sea creature. It was covered almost entirely in scales that cut as keenly as knives and protected as well as full plate armor. It was shaped something like a serpent. Its long body was girded by yoke-shaped plates of impenetrable armor, and interlocking scales protected its underbelly. Its vast and peculiar body bore myriad curious features. Many men died trying to find a weak spot. Eyes studded its body and formed a mosaic on its face, but these were protected by thick eyelids that would snap into place too quickly for any arrow or spear to pierce the soft parts beneath. The multitude of eyes also prevented anyone from sneaking up on the beast. Its head was shaped like a cone which came to a blunt end where its mouth opened. Two giant horns grew upon this cone, and another jutting out from underneath. In that part beneath the head there was a place where the scales seemed to thin out, and the movement of muscles and veins could be seen. But it was directly adjacent to a horn and a pair of jaws, so no lancer could make it there, and no archer could shoot with enough precision to pierce any of those veins. Its jaws weren't so very powerful, but they didn't have to be. What it couldn't bite to pieces, it could swallow whole. It would sometimes be seen picking rocks from the mountainside and swallowing them, so the food it ate could be ground up inside its stomach. Many different figures have been given for the number of its limbs, but I can say safely say it was more than three pairs, each with tearing claws. It was an unpleasant time in which to live, in many different ways. You may already have noticed that a great many of the antique chamber pots that can be seen today date to the time of the monster (identifiable by their blue glaze and the angular patterns decorating them). It is said that this was because more were made during that year than any other time in history. You see, the fear that grasped the village was so strong that people were afraid to go to the outhouse alone at night, and chose instead to use their own home as a place of easement or else suffer 'til the morning. After a while, the monster didn't even leave the city after its rampages. It feared the people so little that it would simply tuck itself into its shell and go to sleep. It was bad enough being attacked by a monster every few nights, but to be able to see it sitting there at all through the day was a chilling reminder of the threat. The villagers' spirits dropped further. Warriors performed even more poorly against the monster. A quarter of the town moved away to where the shell wouldn't be in their vision at all times, living in tents. Of course, this made them even less safe. Meanwhile, lances, battering rams, and fire were used against its sleeping form, to no avail. Before falling into slumber, it always rolled into a shape that left the thickest plates of its armor blocking the entrance to its shell. The only times the monster left the village was to drink from a nearby stream, and to visit a remote location where it disposed of what remained of the devoured villagers. Attempts were made to catch it off guard at these places, but the monster was too canny to fall to a surprise attack. There was one warrior in Green Massif who was not only bold enough to fight the Bower Gulper, but crafty enough to defeat it when so many others had failed. This valiant challenger was not a knight, nor a man, nor even a boy. Diceanct Gemniss was a small girl with great ambitions. Let me describe her. Her hair was red almost beyond hair's capacity to be red. She didn't put much fuss into grooming it, so it flowed all over her head and shoulders, and looked like a flaming torch when the wind caught hold of it. Inside she was just as fiery. A spark could be seen in those sapphire eyes of hers. She had the long lashes, thin eyebrows, and shapely lips that would usually catch the fellows' attention. But in her case they were more likely to be covered with dirt than makeup. She was small, even for a young lady, but the muscles that clothed her tiny skeleton could do incredible things. While the other little girls had been gathering flowers and braiding their hair, she had been outrunning hunting dogs and scaling mossy ruins. While the other girls had been learning to sew and cook, she had learned to hunt wild animals and to tan and stretch hide to fashion leather armor. Such was her way. Some thought she was mad. Others that she was really a boy. For all these reasons, the boys never brought her flowers or asked her to dances. But she was sought after in hunts and sports and other boyish pastimes. She wished to be taught in the ways of a knight, but such a thing was unheard of in those days. Many adults disdained her, as did some children, telling her she should be in a kitchen or at a spinning wheel. Even those boys who enjoyed having her as a comrade thought it was unfitting for her to be a warrior, such was the strength of the taboo. But she did have some things in common with the other girls of Green Massif. For instance, she had been eagerly awaiting the annual festival held for the boys and girls who had recently become men and women. Her year had finally arrived. When the threat of the monster became so pervasive that the festival was deemed to dangerous to hold, these children were heartbroken. But this girl Dicea instead became truly angry. The day of that announcement, she separated herself from any human contact. She was sighted in the tallest branch of the tallest tree in the countryside, stewing with rage but also working over strategies. There, hanging upside down so the blood would nourish her brain in abundance, she devised the perfect plan. She procured some daziper oil, a sweet-smelling yet potently poisonous concoction. Then she went to her family's home and began to soak her armor in it. That very night, she wrapped up her inconveniently large bosom, slid into her newly fortified armor, sheathed her hunting dagger in her belt, and went off to wait for the Bower Gulper to come out of its shell to snatch up the cattle that were being herded nearby. The villagers who witnessed the ensuing battle did not think Dicea fought valiantly. They thought she was simply mad. She taunted the monster while armed with only a dagger, and hardly defended herself at all. It wasn't long before the colossal beast was biting at her wantonly with its massive jaws. It was unable to penetrate her tough leather armor, but that didn't prevent it from wolfing her down. One swallow and she was gone, armor, dagger, and all. The onlookers wept. She had been their best hope, and would probably be their last. But in a moment, the daziper oil in which she had soaked her armor had its intended effect, and the monster disgorged her, whole and alive. This had been her plan all along, because it gave her access to the monster's one vulnerable spot. As she was cast from its mouth, she caught hold of the horn that protruded from its chin. This placed her just beyond the reach of the monster's foremost pair of arms. With her legs gripping the horn like a vice, her upper body was freed to locate and cut the great veins in the beast's unprotected neck. In moments, it fell down dead. That day, a huge celebration was held in honor of Diceanct Gemniss the Beast-Slayer. She was modest, and didn't want to receive all of the attention. She made it known that this would replace the coming of age festival of which the people her age had been robbed. And so the young women got to show off their fancy clothes and reduced girths after all. There was a great feast. All the tasty food in the village was devoured in one afternoon, but no one cared. And there was much song and dance. But more of the young men danced with Dicea than with anyone else, because, even with her body covered in cuts and bruises, she was still the most winsome woman in the land. She was the one to which they owed their lives. If not for her, they would be no more than skeletons in piles of dung. The year went on, the village rebuilt, and the suitors never left Dicea alone for a moment. She had much fun sparring with them all. The toughest and boldest of them all won her hand in marriage, although he never did win a wrestling match with her. Their combined warriors' blood, propagated by their many children, is the reason that today Green Massif has the most valorous fighters in the land, and the most feisty women. Now that you have heard this legend, which is still on the tongues of many after seven generations have passed, I will tell you the true story. Like many oft-told tales, the story of the Bower Gulper's death takes detours around certain truths. I know this because my grandfather had the privilege of studying Diceanct Gemniss with a thoroughness that is impossible today. Many relics from her era, such as her personal diary, are now lost. But the secret true history has been told among my family, and now I tell it to you. Women are a secretive sex, and it can be hard for we men to believe that each one has a full set of bowels tucked into her person, which function just as they do in a man or a beast. Combine this with the way we make idols of the heroes of the past, and it seems absurd to suggest that Diceanct Gemniss the Beast-Slayer could ever have sat on an outhouse bench. But before there were legends or paintings or statues of her there was a real person who was as much flesh and blood as you or I. I can tell you with certainty that, beneath the well-developed muscles of her torso, were nestled the five feet of bowels that are allotted to every mortal man and woman. I can tell you with equal certainty that each inch of that organ was full when she went into battle. The reader must keep that in mind as I retell the end of the story. Tellers of this tale supply its heroine with only a dagger, but she actually took a sword and shield into battle. She had even stolen a catapult from the city's defenders. This was the keystone of her cunning plan to vanquish the beast that had conquered so many. She believed the best place to strike was between the plates girding its back and sides. These came very far apart when it twisted its body, and she thought she could pierce the soft flesh between them using a poisoned sword. A long lance would have been better, but she didn't have one, nor would she know how to use one if she stole it. But she was confident in her abilities as a swordswoman, and in the potency of the poison she had found. When she faced it that night, she had a plan which the tellers of the tale have forgotten, it having been a miserable failure. She let some cattle out of their pen and goaded them toward the shell of the sleeping monster. The farmer was upset, but didn't shout her away from his livestock for fear that the mad girl might attack him. The beast ventured out to snatch up these tasty morsels when Dicea did the maddest thing yet. She had lured one of the cattle onto the catapult, and propelled it out past the edge of the town. The Bower Gulper rapidly jerked its neck to catch the flying treat, as she had hoped. But the exposure of the tender flesh between its scales was fleeting. When she charged its neck, it was already coming back around. The force of that failed stab was so great that the sword flew out of her hands. When the beast reared its head, she had to draw back instead of retrieving her weapon. In a moment it had been lost beneath the great serpent's advancing body. She tried to ward it off with a torch, but it was no use. She hid in a gap in a wall, hoping the beast would pass her by. But it used its awful curved claws to fish her out of that crack. She put up her great shield, which reeked of daziper, between herself and the hideous fiend. But it scratched and batted at the poisoned iron, and eventually snatched it from the girl's bloodied hands. She reclaimed her torch and tried to burn its hand to discourage it, but it would not leave her alone. Soon it presented its jaws instead of its arms. It was determined to eat this irksome pest. No plan of defense could have prevented the moment when its teeth caught her body. When the monster's jaws closed, they left Dicea in a compromising position. The armor kept her torso unharmed, but those shark-like serrated teeth were all about her, and she could not move an arm to draw her dagger without wounding herself deeply. The torch still burned, but didn't singe the flesh of the mouth enough for the monster to react. She tried with all her might to kick its teeth out and make her escape, but they would not be broken. The only thing defending her body was her armor. The monster no doubt tasted the daziper oil she had soaked it in, but it showed no concern for the poison. It certainly wasn't vile enough to make it spit her out. As it tried to chew its meal, Dicea's arms and legs received some cuts, but the bulk of her body was spared. The monster grew tired of trying to puncture her armor with its teeth, and gulped her down whole. She tried to make herself too large to swallow, but she still slid down that soft and slimy tube without making any trouble for the monster. She was carried for hundreds of feet before finally being deposited in a stuffy, damp, hot place. She fell onto her side, and was cemented to the floor by a sticky coating. The torchlight revealed to her a saddle-shaped pink chamber, empty save for her and a nest of sharp rocks. The spongy walls pulsed with life, and seething hot fluid was rising to meet her. Then the flame went dark. But the ending of the battle, as you have heard it before, is true. She did receive a second chance at life. When she was thrown out of the monster's mouth she was shocked to be alive, but she came to her senses quickly enough to cling to the horn of its chin and avoid a nasty fall. And she wasn't too overcome with fear to take advantage of her position. She drew her dagger and slashed madly until the beast fell to the earth, and her with it. Even then, she hacked at it frantically until its neck was a pulp and the remains of its head were totally separate from the body. Her hysteria finally ceased, and she collapsed to the ground and slowly caught her breath. Once the villagers were convinced that her mind wasn't gone, they showered her with praise. She found herself telling and retelling the story of her strategy and victory to an adoring crowd, not caring that only parts of it were true. The women were empowered to know that a humble member of their sex had achieved such a feat. The men's eyes were ablaze with fondness. The jubilant mood began to shift with the first mention of an unpleasant smell. It was at first assumed that the dying monster had ejected its bowels' contents, but no evidence could be found of this. The smell lingered, and elicited more remarks by the minute. As this was happening, Dicea began to look more and more uneasy. She began to stammer and pause in her storytelling, and her face grew more and more red, to the point that one couldn't tell where her hair ended and her skin began. Finally, it got to where she couldn't bear it anymore. She broke down, and the emotional outpouring that resulted gave everyone in earshot a full confession. These are her own words, as recorded in her journal: "I soiled myself! I soiled myself! You are smelling my shame. That's why the monster disgorged me. I was too atrocious for its body to contain. I might not have even turned its stomach, were this not an especially foul and voluminous expulsion. But I couldn't help myself. I thought my life was over, and was terrified, and the filth just issued forth. I had no control. As a fighter, I have been a terrible coward. The daziper oil had nothing to do with my escape. It was meant to protect me from being consumed in the first place, because I never planned to enter that awful thing's body at all. It was only through good fortune that being swallowed led to my victory. I had a plan, and it failed! It failed awfully, and I was eaten, and I defiled my garments like a child." What she spoke was true. As it had happened, her mind collapsed in terror and despair when she found herself in complete darkness in that horrible churning pit of death, and her muscles gave out in turn. She was conscious of the consequences of this. In fact, she was conscious of little else. She recorded in her journal the feeling of her bowels purging themselves while she was powerless to halt the process. She felt a long solid mass push the seat of her pants away, then fold over and smash itself into a formless lump against her rump. More and more came out, putting space between her armor and her body. The dank atmosphere became especially atrocious. Her inability to keep her waste inside made her failure that day even more bitter. Just when she thought she was about to suffocate, she found herself being thrust upward. Her mind ignored the disaster of her bowels, so elated she was to be alive. In the heat of the fight that ensued, and the shining splendor of her victory, she forgot all about the extra weight in her clothes. She didn't even think to go back and wash up, so lost she was in this happy moment, and now the villagers could see the pitiable thing she had done. Of course, she had proper underclothes, and all that she had produced was held inside them, and was further obscured by her armor. But, once one knew to look, they could see between her legs a mass of sagging cloth that looked like an overfilled sack of turnips, and smelled like the hole of a privy. After finishing her speech, Dicea wept and wept, and had to be consoled like a child. The villagers emphasized that she had had the presence of mind to cling to the monster's horn and slit its throat, and that she had been brave enough to face it in the first place. But all she could think about was the pungent muck she was sitting in. She never fully regained her composure that morning, but she did eventually halt the flow of tears and sulk off to the bathhouse. She peeled from her body the clothing that she had befouled, and set it aside to bury later. Then she went about soaking and scrubbing herself until her flesh was rosy and tender. All the foul-smelling filth was removed, but the shame would not wash away. After that, she walked back to her home in her armor, nude underneath, while people stared and wondered and chuckled. There she stayed for quite some time, and would not show her face to anyone. As word of the beast's vanquishment spread throughout the surviving villagers, so did instructions not to mention the vanquisher's lapse of continence. Still, Dicea would not be seen for some time. She was so humiliated that she wouldn't even show herself during the celebration of her victory, and it went on without her. Of course, it didn't take too long for her to realize that she was adored and respected much more than she was made the object of derision. Even as she sulked, she was sent flowers and gifts and enough clean sets of fine clothing to last her many years. And, even though she had missed her one chance at a coming of age festival, she soon had more suitors than all the other young ladies of Green Massif combined. True, some of the men were disgusted by her embarrassing mishap, but most were captivated by her. After all, a lady who can slay the greatest monster in living memory is quite a lady indeed, even if she does sometimes wreck her undergarments. And the rest of the story is as you know, regarding her popularity, her marriage, and her dozen and two children (which were all sired by the same man, contrary to a malicious rumor you might have heard). To compensate for her own failing, she made sure they each received stern and strict toilet training, and none had a single misfortune of the bowels or bladder after their third birthday. She was a mighty warrior. No one questions that. But she never outgrew the tendency to become deeply stricken with fear at the direst moments. Stricken right down to the bowels. Those who served with her in battle would always pretend they smelled nothing. The habit of dousing her armor with perfume continued, to hide the smells she produced due to vigorous exercise and less mentionable bodily processes. The skirt that adorned her armor, which has become such an iconic part of her legend, was something she adopted to hide her lower garments from view in case they were distended with matter she had voided. Other female fighters embraced these practices, partly so she wouldn't feel ashamed, and they are now commonplace, even though most of these lady warriors do not know the embarrassing origin of the perfume and skirts that adorn them. Thus goes the true story of Diceanct Gemniss the Beast-Slayer. I may catch malice for telling it, but none can find any solid proof that the popular version of the tale holds any more fact than mine.
  23. So, some of you that read Journey to Arnwick might recall that I mentioned something of a spiritual successor. At long last, here it is: The Warband! Following the efforts of a legendary knight as she battles an evil horde of corrupted warriors. And virtually everyone along the way craps their pants. And, at the bottom of this post will be some art of our heroine, Arryl, done by the one and only Livinginfinite (link to his Pixiv). Hope you enjoy! This one's been a long time coming. The Warband Chapter 1: Into the Fray Selena had witnessed not one, but two legends on the same day. She’d heard the rumors of Khan Kora, and her fell army. The legion of savage warriors rampaging across the land, bringing city after city to their knees. The disparate tales could never agree on what became of the Khan’s victims; some say that she has them all massacred, leaving no survivors; others warn that you’ll be taken as a slave. The stories of an army of monster-men, one that entire nations crumbled before… It was something Selena did not believe. Just some tall tale that became far more famous than it deserved to be. Likewise, she did not put much stock into the legends of the knightess Arryl. A warrior endowed with divine might and purpose, driving back the dark hordes of the Khan’s army. Fearless, peerless, and undefeated in combat, Arryl was reputed as being a holy savior of the realm. Naturally, Selena figured the comforting myth of Arryl was simply in response to the frightening myth of Kora. Selena would have staked her home on these legends being nothing more than stories… until the day the Khan’s armies arrived, and tore her home apart. And on that fateful day, when a nightmare of mythic status waged war upon her people, who should appear to challenge them but another myth… ----------------------------------- Screaming… That was all Selena could hear. The other sounds- the fires, the clashing of metal, the chaos of warfare- all of it seemed so quiet compared to the screaming just outside of her house. The invaders had descended on them so quickly, in under an hour they’d breached the city walls. Their fury tore through the city impossibly- inhumanly- swiftly. Selena was no fighter, and neither was her daughter, Colline. Panicked and afraid, all she could think to do was grab a knife from her kitchen, then hide with Colline in the back of the house. Her daughter shivered beside her, and Selena pulled her in closer. Driven by the fear of what may come, she found herself staring at her daughter's face. The apple truly did not fall far from the tree; Colline looked just like her: dark skin, a freckled face, pale green eyes, long, black hair. Indeed, the largest visual distinction between them was their style of dress. Selena wore a white and green dress, whereas Colline always preferred to dress in a tunic and pants, as she had then. Her daughter had always been tomboyish. All throughout her youth, she’d picked fights with the boys and, as far as Selena knew, won more than lost. Even as a young adult, violence and physical labor never frightened her. But now? Now, tears streamed down her face, and she couldn’t stop shaking. The two of them knelt together, on their knees. She swore that she would protect her daughter, but Selena wasn’t completely certain that her own legs would function. The screaming outside came to an end, but the silence was all the more dreadful. Wood splintered beyond the room they took refuge in- the door had been smashed to pieces. Colline sobbed loudly, holding onto her mother as tightly as possible. Selena heard the pitter-patter of water falling to the floor, and wondered if her bladder had begun emptying itself. She looked down, but her skirt was dry. Beside her, however, the crotch of Colline’s sky-blue pants darkened as they were saturated with urine. Her daughter- a grown woman of twenty years- had wet herself in fear. A puddle grew underneath her as the urine spilled from the rear of her trousers to the floor. Her heart ached for her poor daughter; no one should have to endure that kind of terror or shame. “Shh, shh,” She tried to soothe her daughter’s fears and unquiet crying, lest they be heard, “Don’t be afraid Colline, I won’t let them hurt you.” Colline made a choked sound, whatever it was she wanted to say stolen by a tearful hiccup. She took a deep breath, and held ever more tightly to her mother. She knew the poor thing was using every last ounce of her willpower to control her crying. Heavy footsteps strode through their home. She could hear furniture being tossed aside. A door was kicked in. They were looking for people. People to kill or enslave. A voice, thick with murderous intent and distorted by vile magic, shouted suddenly, “Only cowards hide!!” as another door was destroyed. There were only so many rooms. He would find them very soon. “Colline, sweetie, hide under the bed.” “But, Mom-” Her voice was strained. “Hide, Colline!” Selena snapped. Reluctantly, her daughter nodded, and crawled under the bed. “Last chance!” The voice was eager, excited for the slaughter, “Come on out and I’ll make it quick!” Selena clutched the knife in a trembling hand. The head of an axe broke through the door, and she could not suppress the scream that left her throat. “Found you!” The man laughed, “Shoulda listened! Now I’m gonna do this nice and slow.” “Stay back!” Selena called out to him, pointing the knife at the door. Tears blurred her vision, and she felt wetness race down her thighs. Her long bloomers were drenched as her bladder voided in fear. The front of her dress grew wet and warm as a stain materialized, and numerous streams fell from her bloomers onto the ground, creating another puddle next to Colline’s. With another slash of his axe, the door gave way, revealing the murderer: A tall, muscular man with pale red skin. He wore black trousers and boots, no shirt. His pupils were yellow, and the whites of his eyes had turned black. His hair was a deep blue. Across his body, thin, wiry things that looked like veins covered him. A monster-man, just as the stories spoke of. He laughed cruelly, “That’s it, piss yourself! Be afraid!” He hefted his large, serrated axe, “Come on, beg for me! Beg for your worthless life! If you do, I just might let you come with me, heheheh… ” His eyes settled on the kitchen knife, “Oh ho, that’s your weapon, huh?” He spread his arms wide, “Come on, then! I’ll give you one shot!” Selena stood motionless, paralyzed with fear, “Come on!” He screamed. Compelled to take the chance he’d arrogantly given her, she surged forward, and drove the knife into the man’s chest. For only a second, as she thought she’d slain the intruder, she smiled. When the man did not topple over, though, the fear returned. Flashing her a fanged grin, the man gripped the knife, and slid it out of his body, dropping it to the ground. Some brackish blood oozed from the wound, but he seemed unfazed by it. Selena stepped back in disbelief. “My turn,” He intoned in a ruthless voice. Hefting his axe, her stepped towards her. In a flash of motion, Colline emerged from under the bed, and sprinted for the door. “Colline!” Selena screamed. “Huh?!” The man exclaimed in surprise, but his look of shock quickly transitioned to one of joy. Colline fled through their ruined home, making for the city streets, “Help! Help!” she called. “Hey, come back!” The killer shouted, giving chase, “I have some ideas for some family bonding!” Summoning all of her courage, Selena willed her legs to carry her, and she stumbled after them. Outside the house, her daughter screamed, and she picked up her pace. The killer had tackled her to the ground, and subdued her. “Get off of her!” Selena prepared to pounce on the man, ready to punch, kick, bite, anything to try and protect her daughter. But she didn’t get the chance. Like a steel-gray bolt of lightning, someone charged and struck him with a warhammer. Bones cracked and splintered, and he flew backwards, impacting the wall of the house. He groaned in pain, and fell to the ground. Even through a blow like that, he lived, and tried to pick himself back up. The knight brought their mighty hammer up, and then down. With a grisly sound, the killer’s head was dashed across the dirt. Selena hurried to her daughter, noting with sympathy that there was a brown bulge in the seat of her pants, and pulled her into a loving embrace. Colline absentmindedly returned the hug, but was more focused on the resplendent figure before them. Once she’d helped her daughter to her feet, Selena turned to their savior, “Oh God, bless you. Thank you, thank you so much.” The knight, or knightess, rather, was a large and powerful figure. She was tall, clad in resplendent armor. It seemed shaped specifically to her body, and alluded to a strong and capable physique. She wore no helmet, revealing a youthful and stunningly beautiful face. Her skin was pale, and her hair was snow white, hanging in frizzy tangles down just past her ears. In one hand she held a colossal hammer, inscribed with glowing golden runes. “Are there any other survivors here?” The lady knight asked, voice filled with purpose. “Uh, um, I couldn’t say. My daughter and I have been hiding,” “I understand. Go to my knights, they’ll see you to safety,” She pointed with her unarmed hand down the street. For the first time, Selena noticed several other knights advancing down the road. All around them lay fallen invaders. “Th-thank you,” Colline meekly whispered. Taking her daughter’s hand, Selena hurried to the knights, to the promise of safety. One of them stopped their advance and gestured for them to hurry up. “This way,” the knight called out, “We’ve secured the north district, get over there!” ----------------------------------- Arryl sighed with relief. She’d found survivors, and gotten them to safety. Such a thing was a rare luxury when the Khan struck so suddenly, as she had that day. Seeing both the survivors had wet themselves, she silently regarded her own “underwear.” After soiling her armor more times than she could count, Arryl had eventually just turned to wearing more absorbent clothes underneath her armor. While the heavy metal certainly did a stellar job of keeping her accidents a secret, she’d grown quite tired of having to scrub the insides of her legplates. Inspecting herself as best she could through the armor, she ascertained that she was slightly wet. The chaos of the attack had more than once been enough to startle a leak or two out of her, but she’d remained mostly dry this day. A small blessing, but a welcome one. Her knights caught up to her, one of them asking, “Your orders, ma’am?” “Continue down the street, search for survivors and kill any of the horde you can see. The enemy should withdraw soon, and I must check with Omila.” “Understood!” The knights nodded, and continued their march deeper into the city. Arryl turned back towards streets they’d already secured. The Khan’s horde rarely lingered in an area; they struck suddenly, and without warning, claimed their prizes, then vanished. They would soon depart from this place, leaving only burned homes and shattered lives in their wake. Omila, Arryl’s master ranger, had proven instrumental in monitoring the horde’s movements and predicting where they would strike next. She knew she was on the right track when she came upon arrow-riddled horde bodies. Following the ranger’s trail led her to the roof of a large building. Having learned her lesson the hard way more than once before, Arryl was very careful to announce, “Omila, coming up behind you!” before she had stepped fully out onto the roof. She’d been on the receiving end of enough of her arrows to last a lifetime. “Huh?” The energetic archer whirled about, still caught off guard by Arryl’s warning. For a creature with such good hearing, Omila really did have trouble listening. She was a vulpin, a race of fox-like humans. Unlike some other, more animalistic races, the vulpin’s physical differences were limited to clawed fingers, sharp fangs, long tails, and large fox ears. Omila herself was a short, fit woman. Her hair was a vibrant reddish-orange, increasing her resemblance to a fox. In order to free up her movement, the only armor she wore was a leather tunic. Beyond that was a green cape whose hood was almost never used, since her large ears did not fit inside of it, and some tan shorts. “Where are they going?” The vulpin turned and pointed to the west, “They mostly struck merchants and warehouses. Stocking up for a journey to somewhere else.” “Casualties?” Arryl’s least favorite part of any report. “Thankfully, not terrible. Some knights are gone, but most of my archers are unharmed. This was likely just a small detachment sent to raid this place.” “Have you seen or heard from Ravein?” The elven assassin had a habit of going her own way during battles. “Not since the fighting started. She’s probably off doing what she does best.” “I see. How are you holding up?” “Not hurt,” Omila casually answered, looking out over the city and not at Arryl. “Not what I meant.” “You know how I’m holding up, Miss Arryl,” Omila’s expression soured. The knight didn’t respond, only giving the vulpin a sympathetic look. Years ago, she’d only narrowly saved Omila from a raid that took everything from the young archer. The carnage and destruction the Khan brought with her weighed especially hard on Omila, and Arryl knew that the ranger would spend the next day or two sulking over it. “Looks like the horde is primarily leaving through that exit,” The archer gestured off into the distance. Even with her regular human eyes, Arryl could see the large mass of troops filing out of the city. An excellent opportunity to bleed them, and cut down many of their warriors without much of a fight. Lifting her warhammer, Arryl made for the streets once more. She was a galvanizing presence for her soldiers, and a force of nature on the battlefield. When armies needed to be felled, Arryl was the one needed, and she would answer the call. ------------------------- The sound made by Vengeance, Arryl’s hammer, was not natural. It tore through flesh and bone just as easily as the air, and it howled in a harsh, ethereal screech as it did so. Like her armor, and, indeed, her own body, the weapon had been infused with holy power; transforming it into a divine instrument no foe could withstand. Even the Khan’s horde understood the danger. Most of the time, they knew to give Arryl a wide berth, and to only engage her when absolutely necessary. Most of the time. But then there were others, like the raider who sprinted for her, his own warhammer dragging in the dirt behind him. The weapon was drenched in blood, he’d killed civilians or knights with it. She glared at him, waiting for her moment to strike. When at last he was close enough, he channeled all his strength into lifting his colossal weapon… Only for Arryl to swing Vengeance impossibly fast, virtually erasing the man’s upper body from existence. A few raiders behind him witnessed the display of her strength, and stopped in their tracks. For one of them, it cost them their life as Lyza, one of Arryl’s top lieutenants, seized the opportunity and impaled him on her sword. For most of the horde, defeat was something they were unfamiliar with. When their unholy strength faltered, the only thing left in them to take its place was terror. The remaining raiders stood paralyzed momentarily, unsure of whether to flee or press the attack. Arryl and Lyza answered for them by advancing forward. Behind the two women, more of the knights arrived to reinforce their push. One of the raiders- a woman wearing tattered and singed clothes- began wetting herself rather forcefully. Between her legs fell a waterfall of urine that splashed noisily to the ground. She glanced down in disbelief, then turned and fled for her life. Her comrade in front of her was not so fortunate; when he turned to see the other’s cowardice, he was swiftly struck down by Lyza. “Knights!” Arryl called, “Behind those buildings! Flank them, and cut off their escape!” Each of the armored soldiers shouted their assent, and followed her orders. “Lyza,” She turned to her old friend, “There could be a commander here. I want you by my side to make sure we kill them.” “Of course, my lady,” the swordswoman answered with a little bow. Lyza was Arryl’s oldest friend and ally, having been with her for years before the Khan’s appearance. She was a bit shorter than Arryl, and had much more tan skin. Her hair was black, and cut very short. She wore thin, light armor over her torso, forearms, and the lower halves of her legs. All areas not covered by white plate were shrouded by loose black cloth. In one hand she clutched a longsword, the other was always left empty. Together, the two set off to do battle with the bulk of the horde. Arryl noticed with annoyance that the space between her legs had grown wetter. She still could not say for certain when she had leaked, only that she had. ----------------- Omila bounded from rooftop to rooftop, stopping only occasionally to snipe a raider with deadly accuracy. All around her, her archers were doing the same, creating a lethal and precise rain of arrows. While Arryl ensured the horde was repelled from the city, she had been taking care of any who thought to linger. “Someone! Help!” a shrill scream caught her attention. Omila looked to its source, seeing a woman fleeing for her life from a stray raider. She loosed an arrow immediately, and it pierced the man’s thigh. He grumbled, more in annoyance than pain, and slowed his pace. With the grace afforded to her by her peerless agility, Omila leapt from the rooftop, landing between the raider and the woman. He swung a sword, aiming for her neck. She ducked her head and backstepped, loosing an arrow as she did. This one found a home in his chest, but he still did not die. He dove for the young vulpin, unleashing a wild flurry of strikes. Once she’d been backed up against a wall, and the killer thought his victory was certain, she jumped high, clear over his desperate attack. On the way down, she took one final shot, planting the arrow in his skull. At last, he was no more. “Thank you, miss-” The survivor began to say with a shaking voice, but Omila cut her off. “Don’t thank! Just go!” She pointed towards the center of the city, to safety. The woman stammered a bit in surprise, but quickly took Omila’s advice. As she did so, the vulpin could plainly see the woman’s heavily saturated and browned pants. Worse yet, she could smell it with her enhanced senses. As much as she liked to save people and help them to safety, it was still one of her least favorite assignments, as her keen eyes and nose did not let her miss a single pair of wet or soiled trousers. And those were never in short supply. She climbed back up to the rooftop, but felt her knees go weak when she saw what had entered the city as she was distracted. A wyvern- a large draconic monster- ridden by a mighty warrior. It soared across the sky, not terribly far from her position. It roared, and with its rider’s command, spewed fire across nearly a dozen buildings. Omila’s sensitive ears picked up the distinct sound of splashing water, and once the numbness of fear had faded, she noticed that her legs were wet. Glancing down, her light brown shorts bore a steadily growing wetness across their front and between her thighs. The streams raced down her thin legs, filling her shoes and puddling on the ground. The warm wetness began to caress her butt, and she hurriedly reached back to ensure that she had not filled her panties as well. Mercifully, it was only urine. Once she’d finished checking the damage, she looked back to the wyvern rider. She gasped sharply as she noticed that they were headed straight for Arryl. Omila broke into a sprint, ignoring her drenched pants and legs. She had to be there to help the paladin. ---------------- Vengeance screamed as it severed one half of a raider from the other. Beside Arryl, Lyza and several knights battled the horde. They were winning, but exhaustion was taking hold. The horde had slowed its withdrawal, perhaps sensing the growing fatigue of the city’s defenders. Not wanting to give them such an impression, Arryl charged forward with a powerful battlecry. Smashing into a group of raiders and knocking them to the ground, Arryl brought Vengeance down upon them, crushing the life out of them. Another sweep of the weapon destroyed another horde soldier. Taking her by surprise, a raider swung a greatsword at her, and Arryl blocked the strike with her hammer mere instants before it could cleave her skull open. Between her legs her piss spilled freely out of her, soaking into the garment. The hot liquid caressed her groin, then made its way to her rear. She shoved herself and her weapon forward, throwing the attacker back. Her thighs pressed together with the movement, and she groaned as she felt her urine escape the absorbent underwear and flow down her legs in little trickles. As with the hammer-wielding raider earlier, this one thought he could match Arryl’s speed, and it would be his last mistake. Vengeance obliterated his body before his sword was even mid-swing. Holding the momentum of that kill, she continued forward, bashing apart any raider fool enough to come too close to her. Lyza and the knights began to surround and envelop the enemies. Arrows flew silently through the air, pelting the horde. Victory was all but certain, until they heard a nightmarish roar above them. A black wyvern, big enough to eat a man whole, flew above them. As it roared, it bathed the path behind them in flame, cutting off any escape Arryl might have had. She heard the squelching coming from her own rear, and she felt the result immediately. Seeing the beast, and feeling the heat of the fire, her bowels surrendered their contents immediately, spilling out into her underwear. She could feel that the release was not entirely firm, and it stretched and filled the garment as much as her armor would allow. The mess spread and grew, until it felt as though a grapefruit sat between her skin and her underwear. Beside her, two knights were clearly frightened just as much. From the sounds of their voices, Arryl was sure both of them were women. On her left, the knight very audibly soiled herself. To the right, the knight was pissing hard on herself. Drops of urine spilled from every crack and gap in her legplates. Even Lyza stiffened and blushed slightly. Arryl recognized the grimace her friend made whenever she soiled herself, and it was the expression she wore then. The paladin uttered a quick prayer under her breath, preparing to raise a magical shield to defend them from the wyvern’s next breath of fire… but it never came. Instead, the beast landed with earthshaking force, and the rider climbed down. Even with a momentary glance, it was clear that the rider was the architect of this attack. A tall, fierce woman, with the light red skin of the Khan’s horde. Wild, tangled pink hair flowed down to the middle of her back. Like many others, she wore no true armor, only black garments that covered her chest and legs. In each hand she carried a serrated longsword. “The mighty Arryl… ” The wyvern rider spoke in a voice just as sultry as it was murderous, “I cannot wait to feed your remains to my pet,” she rubbed the wyvern’s nose, a gesture it apparently appreciated, given that it leaned into it like a cat. “You won’t be the first of your horde to die so pointlessly,” Arryl strode forward, ahead of her comrades, “You won’t be the last.” “Oh ho!” The rider’s face was a cruel sneer, “Come on, then. Find out why they call me Tezha the Torturer!” Arrogance. Arrogance to wear no armor. Arrogance to challenge Arryl to single combat when her wyvern could’ve burned Arryl’s forces alive. The fell energy that surged through the horde’s veins filled them with incomparable pride. Arryl knew how to keep a level head; how to stay in her right mind. She knew to remain humble. The dozens of times she’d completely soiled her panties in fear certainly helped to curb any ego issues she faced. Even as she walked towards Tezha, her underwear soaked to the point of spilling out onto her legs, and filled to the brim with her own mess, she managed to stay calm in spite of the fear within her. She did not doubt for a second that Tezha would command her wyvern to strike the moment she began to lose the fight, so Arryl tried to position herself carefully, to make it difficult for the wyvern to move without injuring its master as well. With a bloodcurdling scream, Tezha surged forward, the blade in her right hand coming down in an overhead strike. Raising her left arm, Arryl blocked the attack with her gauntlet. To her shock, she did not just shrug off the hit as she had expected- the sword bit into her armor deeply, and she was pushed back by the force of it. What she did expect, however, was the next attack as Tezha swung her off-hand weapon horizontally. Arryl parried the slash with her hammer. Both womens’ hands were occupied, so Arryl raised her leg and delivered a powerful kick to Tezha’s gut. She was propelled backwards, landing on the snout of her wyvern. With a surprisingly gentle motion, the dragon nudged her back into the fight. The beast glared at Arryl, evidently not too happy at her treatment of its master. The reptilian eyes bored into her, and she felt the garment between her legs grow warm once again, more urine frightened out of her. Tezha recuperated immediately, and lunged forward. She brought down both of her swords, both blades seeking the exposed flesh of Arryl’s neck. The paladin was quick on her feet, hopping back to dodge the strike. She retaliated with a mighty swing of her hammer, only for Tezha to easily dodge the attack; a feat most of the Khan’s pets couldn’t manage. Arryl’s surprise must’ve shown on her face, as Tezha sneered. Out of the corner of her eye, Arryl noticed a subtle and quiet movement, as if a shadow had jumped independent of its owner. For anyone unfamiliar with Ravein, such a motion would’ve been imperceptible and would have seemed unimportant anyway. For Arryl, it meant that the fight had already ended, and that she had won. The elven assassin only made the most deliberate, well-planned, and far-reaching attacks. She just had to keep the general and her wyvern distracted, and she was confident Ravein would take care of the rest. To that end, Arryl charged forward, preparing to ram Tezha. With a sadistic cackle, the fell warrior swung her blades. This time, it was Tezha’s turn to be surprised. Blocking one blade with her hammer, Arryl’s other arm rocketed upwards, grabbing the sword by the blade. The general was stunned; anyone else who had attempted such a thing had been cleaved apart when their armor failed to stop her. Arryl yanked the weapon from her hand, then barreled into her with her shoulder, throwing her to the ground. For all her pride, if Tezha had any doubts remaining that Arryl was the mightier warrior, they’d been soundly crushed. Having put many others through this same realization, Arryl knew that this was the point of the fight where her enemy would fight desperately, dirty, and dishonorably. At any second, Tezha would give the command for her wyvern to feast, or breathe fire. “All that bluster,” The paladin began, towering over Tezha, “Only to get tossed around like a ragdoll. Surrender, and this place doesn’t have to be your grave.” “Ha!” Tezha barked out a laugh, though there was no mirth in her hard expression, “Playing with you has been entertaining, but now I think it’s time to cut you into ribbons!” Her sentence ended with a ferocious shriek as she rose to her feet and thrust her remaining sword upwards, looking to impale Arryl through the jaw. Her dodge was slow, and she had not anticipated the general’s speed- the same mistake made by countless enemies against herself. The serrated blade sliced the edge of her chin and nose. Keeping her momentum, Tezha delivered strike after strike, each one a lethal attack if not dodged. Behind some debris from a collapsed house, another shadow moved, this one much more easily spotted- a charitable gesture from Ravein, who made it easier for Arryl to notice despite the hail of deadly blows. She had a feeling she knew what the elf wanted to do. From somewhere inexplicable, a single rock fell to the ground- hardly anomalous in a battlefield, which is what made it Ravein’s favored sign. She was ready. For a crucial moment, the paladin lowered her defenses, and met Tezha’s offence with her own. Hammer and sword collided, and the victor was obvious. The foul blade snapped and shattered like glass, showering them both with metal splinters. The general was in utter disbelief, and did not even make any attempt to dodge when Arryl drove Vengeance into her stomach. For the third time in a single fight, the horde commander was thrown backwards, only this time with no more weapons. That is, except for the one massive, wyvern-shaped one. She laughed a low, menacing laugh. She stood, hands clutching her bruised midsection. “Anarri!” She shouted, causing the monster to perk up, “Kill her! Eat her!!” The wyvern roared and reared back, colossal wings flapping. But then a cry of fear stole the dragon’s attention. Its beloved master was in the grip of an elven assassin, whose poison-tipped daggers were pressed against the warlord’s throat. Arryl had always been grateful that Ravein was not their enemy; if she’d had to choose which was more frightening, Khan Kora’s entire horde or this single elf, she would have to vote for Ravein. The violent and psychopathic rage of the horde was not nearly as terror-inducing as the assassin’s unbreakable, silent composure. The still, unconcerned look on her face. The fact that she’d been fighting and killing horde warriors all day, and not a single hair was out of place, not a single drop of blood stained her leather armor. Even though she could not see her attacker, the general must’ve felt Ravein’s quiet, murderous intent just through her touch. Her lips quivered, and her legs shook a little before her knees buckled together. Her bladder emptied, the hot urine streaming down her legs. The stains were not easy to see on her black pants, but they were there. A strong stream fell from her crotch and splattered on the ground, the droplets flying from the impact and wetting both women’s shoes. Ravein would be furious. She’d gone all day without getting dirty only for the last enemy to piss on her. “Make your pet behave itself,” The assassin’s cold voice was only just above a whisper, and she emphasized her point by pressing her dagger’s tip against Tezha’s throat. The general swallowed hard, “Anarri… Down.” The wyvern was an intelligent creature, and seemed to understand what was happening. It obeyed its master, lowering to the ground and looking as non-threatening as a hulking killing machine could possibly look. “Smart. Now get rid of it.” Tezha was seriously weighing her options, and didn’t speak immediately. Only when Ravein’s dagger drew ever nearer to breaking skin did she say, “Anarri… Go home. I’ll be back soon.” She fixed her eyes on Arryl, “I assume your offer to surrender is still on the table?” The paladin nodded. The wyvern looked sick with worry, and bared its fangs. “No, Anarri! Go home.” With a sad, grumbling growl, it obeyed. Sparing one last glance at its master, it took off into the air. Everyone held their breath, waiting for the creature to return and rain fire on them. When nothing happened, and the sky was clear, the knights all began moving once again. Ravein shoved Tezha forward, onto her stomach. As Arryl stepped closer to secure their capture of the enemy general, she noticed that Tezha had done more than just wet herself. A brown stain had spread across her backside, with a telling bulge in the center. The smell was strong, and she did not blame the elf when she hastily took many steps away. “We don’t capture many horde soldiers,” Arryl said as she crouched down in front of her, “I’m very excited to see what secrets you can tell us.” ------------------------------------------ And that's it for chapter 1, but here's that art:
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