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In this short film just after the 8 minute mark a woman seems to have a small wet patch on her crotch. then moments later she fully soaks her pants in fear. enjoy

Hello, everyone! I have decided to continue the saga of Angelica and Lily on a new posting, since I couldn't figure out how to add tags to the old one. The first four chapters can be found here: https://www.omorashi.org/topic/54188-angelica-and-lily/ And now, here is chapter five! Please note, this is the first chapter that contains overtly sexual content. Contains: masturbation (kind of), spanking (kind of) Chapter 5: Amusement Park “Wait, what? You don’t like roller coasters?” Lily gaped at Angelica, her question hanging in the air. Her face was plastered with an “I-can’t-believe-you-just-said-that” stunned expression. Angelica tried to let the question slip by unanswered and kept her eyes on the road. But when she looked back to Lily, she was still boring into her with that gaze, waiting for an answer. Angelica faced the road again, then back towards Lily, expecting her at any time to crack a smile and move on. When this didn’t happen, Angelica gave an awkward chuckle, trying to laugh it off. Lily didn't break. “I mean, I just don't like the feeling you get on them. That can't be that weird—I’m sure there are a lot of people who don't like roller coasters.” “Yeah, but if you don't like them, then why did you go along with this idea at all? I said we should go to Firefly Thrills because I thought we would both have fun. You should've told me you didn't want to go!” Angelica didn’t know how to respond. Usually she went along with whatever Lily suggested, partly because Lily had the greater enthusiasm and partly because she also had the better ideas. One could only suggest “Let’s have a night where we stay at home and read” so many times before someone will start to wonder how it’s a two-person activity. The fact was, though, that she had grown accustomed to letting Lily plan things. There had been enough ideas that she hadn’t expected to like but wound up liking anyway for her to be content to leave things as they were. And for those things that she didn’t end up enjoying—their ill-fated trip to the haunted house came to mind—well, it usually took less emotional energy to endure it than to try to protest it. In addition, the two of them hadn’t done anything big together in the time after Angelica’s issue at Brenda Davis’s party a month before. So when Lily had said they should go to an amusement park for her birthday, Angelica agreed without making a fuss. She had almost forgotten about how strange it would seem to anyone who was outside of her own brain for her to happily go along with something she disliked. Now that Lily was putting her on the spot about it, she realized she didn’t have much of a good explanation. Readjusting her grip on the steering wheel and shuffling uncomfortably in her seat, Angelica cleared her throat and said, “Well, it’s for your birthday, and you suggested it, so, I, uh, I thought…you wanted…” Lily pulled her legs up to her chest on the passenger seat and let her head lean over against the headrest, her face crestfallen. “Aw, Angie, I didn’t mean to make you come. I just thought it would be fun. I thought we’d both have fun! Did you think I didn’t care what you thought?” Angelica gave Lily a quick conciliatory glance in between maintaining her attention on the road. She switched her blinker on and pulled off onto the exit for the park. “Oh, no! No, that’s not it. Okay. Listen. Sure, I don’t really like them, but, but, I also haven’t been on one for a long time…maybe I’ll like it more this time.” She gave a saccharine smile to Lily. When Lily’s expression didn’t lift, Angelica pressed further. “It’s like, so many times, you have great ideas, Lil. Even if I don’t think I’ll have fun, I usually do. So I agreed because you’re my best friend, and I know you’ll have fun, and if you have fun, then I probably will too. Okay?” Lily’s smile returned and she straightened her head. “You mean it?” Angelica nodded at her, smiling genuinely. The usual pep returned to Lily’s voice and she faced forward again. “Thanks, Angie. That means a lot.” Angelica pulled the car off the service road into the entrance to the park’s parking lot. A sign reading “FIREFLY THRILLS PARK” in bright, colorful letters arched over the entryway. Lily was almost squealing with delight—actually, she was squealing with delight—as they collected their parking pass from the automatic dispenser and made their way into the crowded lot, slowing down for hordes of visitors—families with small children like firecrackers of excitement, young couples draped romantically over each other, and the occasional day camp group, all wearing matching neon T-shirts. Once they found a parking spot, Angelica put up the sunshade and insisted that they both put on sunscreen before going inside. Lily gave a little pout but complied. After a hasty application, Angelica had to take half a minute to rub in all the places that Lily had missed, all while telling her good-naturedly to stop whining and sit still. Once this ordeal was over, they both exited the car and stretched their legs, with Angelica using a hand to shield her eyes as they adjusted to the bright sun. As she squinted in the cloudless daylight, she tucked her brown hair behind her ears and wondered offhand if she had dressed too warmly, wearing a dark gray T-shirt, jeggings, and tennis shoes. The T-shirt she had picked because it was the only one she owned long enough to provide at least some cover to her bottom, with every curve visible in its current tight embrace by the jeggings. The jeggings she had picked because they were the only clean thing she had that wasn’t a skirt. She almost never wore them, and felt slightly self-conscious wearing them now, usually preferring outfits that weren’t so…form-fitting. Lily, on the other hand, had on a pink tank top, yellow shorts, and sandals. As she put her blonde hair into a ponytail, she appeared to Angelica as though she had stepped right of the pages of a department store’s summer sale circular. Angelica looked over at the gateway to the park’s interior, a good hundred yards away, and guessed that they wouldn’t allow outside food in. With that in mind, she grabbed her water bottle from the cupholder in the car door and chugged the rest of it, burping discreetly when finished. Even though probably eighty percent or more of the rides in the park wouldn’t be fun to her, she had to admit that on a whole, the place gave off an air of inviting excitement. And she was with her best friend, for her birthday. A smile crept up one side of her mouth and she turned back towards Lily. “C’mon, Lil. Let’s go have fun.” ~*~*~*~*~ The two girls had been at the park for close to two hours, and Angelica had not been on a single roller coaster, despite Lily’s pleas. During that time, every time Lily joined the line for one, Angelica would stay behind and watch, also taking the opportunity to examine the nearby park maps. In this way she gradually familiarized herself with every attraction there was which lacked excessive G-forces. She would also use the time to sneak in intermittent texts to Brian. Ever since she had admitted her attraction to him, she had taken the initiative to reach out and try to start some kind of a friendship. So far he had responded amiably, though Angelica had tried to act reserved and not come exploding into his life with professions of undying love like some kind of psycho. So, things were going well, but she couldn’t help but wonder if he knew how she felt—and if he felt the same way too. Then, once Lily had finished her ride, Angelica would point out a tamer one that they could both go on, and so they spent their time alternating back and forth. In the hot sun, both friends had to routinely stop by water fountains to rehydrate. Angelica was definitely drinking more, though, since she could do so while Lily was in line. This, combined with the water bottle from earlier, caused her to begin to notice a need for a toilet after about an hour in the park. She didn’t pay much attention to it, however, since the two of them were trying to get in as much fun as possible in the time they had, and Angelica told herself she could go by a bathroom any time she needed. Meanwhile, her stomach had begun to growl as well, and she thought it was probably about time for them to get lunch. As Lily breathlessly caught up to Angelica at the exit of The Devil’s Tower, a coaster that excelled in vertical drops and time spent upside down, Angelica gave her a smile to match Lily’s own grin of exhilaration, standing up from the bench she had been sitting on. Lily, though, staggered over to the bench and flopped right down on it, causing Angelica to laugh and sit down again. Lily’s head was lying back and she still seemed out of breath, though Angelica couldn’t tell how much of it was actual and how much was Lily just being overly dramatic in her excitement. “So, how was it? New favorite?” Every roller coaster that Lily had ridden that day had been subsequently declared her “new favorite.” Lily lifted her head ever so slightly. “Definitely.” She dropped her head down again and laughed. “You really need to go on one, Angie. They are like, so much fun. Really, you’ve gotta try one. I think you’ll enjoy it a lot more than you think.” Angelica laughed dismissively, hoping to dispel the thought from Lily’s mind. “Yeah, well, I know you’re enjoying them. That’s enough for me, really.” Lily raised her head all the way up and looked Angelica in the eye. “Could you at least try one today?” When Angelica laughed again, she puckered her lower lip in a fake pout. “Pwetty pwease? It’s for my birthday.” Angelica just chuckled and shook her head. She didn’t have it in her to be a stick-in-the-mud whenever Lily got this silly. As Lily’s infantile pleadings continued, eventually Angelica broke. “All right, all right! You win, ya big baby. One. I will go on one roller coaster today.” Lily giggled gleefully and rubbed her hands together. “Yay! Now I just have to think of the perfect one for you to lose your roller coaster virginity on!” “Oh my gosh.” Angelica covered her face with one hand, embarrassed by Lily’s comment. It only had the effect of making Lily break out afresh into tittering cackles. Angelica sat there, mouth scrunched up on one side, and stared off into the crowds while waiting for Lily to get it out of her system. As Lily’s snickers died down, Angelica turned back towards her with an exaggerated “ANYWAY,” making Lily cover her mouth to keep from laughing again. Even Angelica couldn’t resist the smile playing on one corner of her mouth. “I’m hungry. Do you think we should go get something to eat? There’s a place here that sells pizza. I thought it looked pretty good.” Lily leaned forward on the bench, preparing to stand. “Yeah, good idea. Pizza sounds good. You’ll have to lead the way.” They both stood and began walking when Lily suddenly stopped. At Angelica’s puzzled look, she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Wait a second. After we eat, we’ll have to wait a while before we can go on a roller coaster again.” Angelica tried to follow Lily’s train of thought without success. “So?” Lily arched an eyebrow with an “I’m-on-to-you” expression. “So, you just said you’d go on a roller coaster today. Are you trying to get out of it now?” “What? No, of course not.” “Well, I can just hear you now: ‘Sorry, Lil, but I’m still too full. I don’t think I can ride yet. Oh, what’s that? It’s time for us to go? Oops, sorry about that.’” She put her hands on her hips in mock accusation. “Come on, Lil, I won’t do that. I promised I’d ride one.” Lily’s face immediately switched to a bright, bubbly smile. “Great! So let’s do it now, and we can eat lunch after.” Angelica’s eyes darkened as she realized she’d been played. When she had said she would go on a roller coaster today, she hadn’t really thought that meant today today. It felt more like homework that you could just keep putting off for a few hours more. In her gut, she wanted to avoid it as long as possible, but in her head, she knew that Lily was probably right. Hey, and if she got it over with now, then she’d be free for the rest of the day. It was probably best to do it now, then, but the thought still made her stomach churn with anxiety. She also felt her bladder give off a stronger twinge, letting her know that it would need attention soon. Okay, fine. They could do this first, then she’d stop by the bathroom on the way to get lunch. Lily’d probably need to go, too. She licked her lips, then said, “Okay. Sure. Let’s do it.” The next minute or so was spent with Lily deliberating over which would be the perfect experience for Angelica to get her feet wet on. After a fair amount of voluble considerations, she concluded that the ideal roller coaster would be The Typhoon, which, according to Lily, boasted the optimal balance of creativity with tried-and-true solid design. Angelica didn’t have much to say in response, but she couldn’t help but be a little impressed at how much of a connoisseur Lily evidently was, though her insides were still unsettled. After a few minutes’ walk, both girls came upon the entrance to The Typhoon. A painted blue walkway led up one story to where the ride itself began. As they entered the walkway, Angelica took a deep breath. So, this was really happening. She could feel her nerves start to stand on edge, making her stomach quiver. At least that helped with not feeling quite so hungry. As they joined the end of the line, she drummed absentmindedly on the railing, not knowing what to do with her hands. Trying to peer ahead, Angelica could see a decently lengthy line ahead of them, even though there were two cars running on the roller coaster. She sighed and ran her tongue across the roof of her mouth, trying to quell her jitters. At first, Lily tried to engage Angelica in a conversation about the upcoming ride, but such a topic couldn’t be sustained for long, and the line was advancing steadily, but slowly. Instead, she resorted to merely making idle chitchat during the wait. Angelica wasn’t much in the mood for talking—she seldom was when feeling anxious—and this was no exception. She tried to breathe evenly and smoothly, telling herself to just relax. It only worked so much. On top of her anxiousness, over the course of the wait, she could feel her bladder steadily filling more. After about ten minutes the feeling was ever present, and by the time they had been in line for twenty minutes, she found it difficult to think about anything else. The butterflies in her stomach weren’t helping. Raising her head as insouciantly as she could, she tried to gauge how much of the line remained ahead of them. They were now next to the stretch of track where passengers would embark and disembark, but at this point the line began doing switchbacks, lengthening the number of people in front of them. Lily had stopped talking at all, most likely because the noise of the coaster was right next to them and drowned out any attempt at conversation. Angelica was thus left alone with her thoughts…and her ever-increasing need to pee. Rocking back and forth as discreetly as she could, she nonchalantly roved her gaze about, trying to familiarize herself with as much of the track as possible. Watching car after car make the loop, she estimated that the ride lasted about two minutes in total. Most of the path it took was hidden from view from where they stood, but she counted the seconds between shrieks and did her best to estimate the steepness of the drop based off the intensity of the screaming. There wasn’t much else to do, and both her stomach and her bladder were getting increasingly tingly as time passed, inexorably drawing her nearer to experiencing those drops and twists herself. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath, reminding herself over and over that this was it, just one, and then she’d be done. Without warning, her bladder suddenly constricted, making her have to quickly cross one leg over the other. No, no! Just hold on! She could tell that she wasn’t yet desperate—it was just nerves. Take another deep breath, just like that. That’s it. She was in control. The line moved forward slightly, and Angelica uncrossed her legs and closed the gap. If only the line were shorter! At this point, the waiting itself was the worst part. She moved her weight to one leg, then the other. Stay calm. Stay calm and everything would be all right. She leaned herself against the railing and watched Lily. If Lily suspected that she needed to pee, then they would both end up in the same boat. Lily, however, was busy watching the coaster carriages arrive and depart with an eager expression on her face. Watching her friend’s excitement helped take Angelica’s mind off her own need for a toilet. After a few seconds, Lily noticed Angelica watching her and flashed her a smile, wiggling her eyebrows. Angelica smiled back. Maybe she would enjoy this more than she thought. At least now her bladder had seemed to quiet down. See, she’d be fine. There were probably only a few more minutes in line. Sure enough, about three minutes later, they found themselves passing through the gate onto the metal platform above which the seats were suspended. Each carriage had four rows of four seats each, and as Lily and the other fourteen people quickly swarmed the rows, Angelica hung behind, her nerves now making her breathing quicken, and hesitated. Now that she was seeing it up close, the coaster was bigger than she had realized, and she swallowed. Her throat was dry, and she admitted to herself that she felt afraid. Lily was already seated and saw Angelica still standing off to the side. She gave a big smile and waved her arm in a large gesture, waving for Angelica to come and find a seat. Angelica returned a half-hearted smile, took a breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped forward. She was the only person still standing, and so she was forced to take the only empty seat left, which was unfortunately two rows behind Lily, who had, unsurprisingly, sat in the front. She moved in between the two rows and climbed in between the two other riders on either side. Angelica tentatively slid into the hard plastic seat and wriggled her bottom, trying to get comfortable. Like many roller coasters, it was designed to restrict your movement as much as possible from every angle, and, as such, the seat was contoured to fit the average rear end. She tried fidgeting for a few seconds before realizing that her efforts weren’t going to change the shape of the coaster’s seat and subsequently sat still. Now that she was actually sitting on the coaster, about to ride, she could feel her heart beating faster. Her apprehension made her head feel like it was filling with pressure, making her ears pop and her peripheral vision weird. Trying to soothe her autonomic nervous system, she swallowed, folded her hands across her lap, and closed her eyes while regulating her breathing. Deep breath in, slooooowly let it out. That was better. She suppressed a nervous yawn. As the seconds ticked by in her head, Angelica felt her bladder tightening again. She took another deep breath and told herself it was just nerves. She didn’t have to go that badly. Due to her past experiences, she knew that if she had thought she was entering the danger zone, she would have simply left the line. Better to have to wait another half hour than to take that risk. As of now, though, she would have to make sure that they went by a bathroom after this ride. On the other hand, though, maybe it was only from anxiousness, and she wouldn’t have to go once the ride was over? No, but that would mean repeating this whole inner debate—over whether or not she should have gone to the bathroom—on the next ride. At least this should be her only roller coaster. That at least was a comfort. And besides, they were going to have lunch after this, which would be the ideal time to go pee. At the moment, however, she felt tingles going through her crotch and tried to squeeze her thighs together, though the movement was inhibited by the piece of metal between her legs, where the top part of the harness would attach. As she moved, her brow furrowed upon feeling an odd discomfort there, as if something were poking her in her private parts. Looking down, she tried to pull herself off the seat to see what it was. It looked as though a large nut was supposed to screw in there, but a specially designed one, one that would be flush with the rest of the contoured harness. Instead, there was a much larger nut, clumsily screwed on and not painted over like the rest of the seat. Most likely the original nut had been lost during maintenance, and the mechanic had just slapped on whatever he had that would fit. It was unpleasant, though, boring into her groin the way it was. Maybe she should switch seats—though that would mean expecting someone else to have to get jabbed in the crotch. Or maybe…maybe she should just take her last chance to skip out on the ride altogether. Let Lily have fun on it while she went to use the bathroom. Win-win. While she was staring at her lap and hovering above the seat, however, an amusement park worker was suddenly in front of her. Angelica heard a rehearsed “Okay, go ahead and sit down in the chair.” She looked up, seeing a freckled girl about her own age wearing the Firefly Thrills Park uniform, her eyes shadowed by her park visor. Instinctively, she found herself doing as the girl said, settling stiffly back into the seat. “There ya go. Now could you lift your arms for me?” Angelica complied, wanting to ask about changing seats, but only got so far as an “um” before the employee had pulled the over-the-shoulder harness down on its hinge until it clicked into its socket. Angelica’s minor protestation had evidently fallen on deaf ears. “Great. Now just grab onto the handles here.” The girl took hold of the handles herself, one over each of Angelica’s shoulders, to demonstrate. Once Angelica had copied this action, the girl followed it up with a sing-song “Perfect. Now I’m just gonna tighten everything up for ya, and then you’ll be good to go.” She put both hands on where the harness clicked into the seat and used her weight to push down three times, the whole row of seats shaking each time she did. On the third push, the harness clicked one more notch into its socket. At the same time, however, the sudden extra push and the shake on the seat jostled Angelica, and without warning, the nut had suddenly spread her labia and popped itself right into her genitals like a speculum. Shocked and embarrassed, she immediately gasped and felt herself go red. The girl took no notice, however. She merely gave a smile and said, “There you are! Enjoy the ride!” before turning and moving briskly and efficiently off to the side. Angelica shuffled and wiggled in her seat. The thin fabric of her panties and jeggings provided a measly barrier between the metal knob and her most sensitive, private area. Her brow wrought with consternation, she tried in vain to reposition herself so that she was no longer being violated by her chair. It was no use. She was strapped in too snugly to possibly make any difference. Looking down at where the nut was poking into her, she bit on her tongue as she attempted to use her hands to readjust herself. This too met with failure. The harness was too bulky for her to be able to reach her arm around it and access her crotch. A loud hum of the powerful roller coaster engine revving up intruded on her struggle. In a panic, she looked back up, her eyes darting to and fro to find someone who could stop the ride, stop it before it started. Her bladder gave a quick spasm and she clenched her teeth and her thighs in response. There was no way she could ride like this! She bit her lip and craned her neck, trying to see an employee whose attention she could snag. Glancing about for the bright uniform, she could feel the vibration of the heavy machinery work its way all down through her harness, making her head buzz, her ribs resonate, and her crotch… No, no, it couldn’t be! She had to get out of this seat! At that moment, though, the entire carriage of seats lifted forcefully off the ground. As it did so, the movement shifted Angelica further down onto the nut in her groin, pressing it up directly against her clitoris. She gave a sharp intake of breath and looked down. This was insane! There was no way that this could be safe or legal for park visitors. She hadn’t felt this defiled since that awful incident in senior year with that bully, Laura Katz…one that she decidedly did not want to be reminded of. She shifted more, trying but failing to pull off. Her frenzied attempts were also making her bladder tighten more and a wave of pain passed through it. She tensed all her muscles, trying to stay under control. It was challenging, considering she couldn’t close her thighs or use her hands in any way. She took another deep breath. It was only a two-minute ride. She could endure it. At least being suspended by the harness kept pressure on her urethra, since she couldn’t hold herself. The carriage shoved off from the loading area and latched onto the chain that would pull it to the top of the first drop. The rumbling of the powerful motor resonated all through the framework of the roller coaster, but Angelica noticed it most in where it was concentrated in her private parts. As their set of seats made its way slowly, painstakingly up the hill, the vibration against her clitoris continued, and she began experiencing a strange new sensation. Oddly enough, although the buzzing was amplifying her need for a toilet, the pain it produced wasn’t an unpleasant pain. It rose in tandem with an unfamiliar pleasure, producing little shooting sensations all through her crotch, pain and pleasure waltzing together in harmony. She felt her breathing grow heavier and heavier as her body temperature rose. A golden, tingly sensation was permeating her entire body, making her feel floaty, and at the same time, her bladder felt like it was constricting tighter and tighter, the pain of desperation making her leg muscles tense up and her toes curl. Or was it the strange euphoria that was doing that? Her sphincter was on fire with the pressure from her bladder, but almost right next to it, her clitoris was pulsating with jolts of ecstasy like shocks of electricity. Having the foci of such opposite sensations located in such close proximity to each other produced a feeling unlike any she had experienced before. Being a virgin, and one who had never felt drawn to experiment sexually before, Angelica didn’t recognize the feeling of a building orgasm. Her breaths were labored pants at this point, her face was flushed, and she was white knuckled from gripping the harness so hard. The roller coaster was almost at its peak, and so too were the waves of bliss coursing through her. She felt elation, but combined with fear at not knowing what was happening to her. Suddenly, a moan slipped involuntarily out of her mouth, and she bit down on her lip. But the pleasure was mounting, and so was her bladder pressure, and so was the roller coaster…and another moan came out, and then another…and her pee was about to explode out of her…and she was in heaven…and she imagined Brian’s arms around her… …and now the roller coaster was at the top… Angelica screamed, a split second before the rest of the riders. Just when she had thought there was no way she could hold back the impending flood, the roller coaster entered its parabolic drop and the vibrations on her abated. The sudden light-headedness from freefall only amplified the blinding pulses of giddy pleasure that were overtaking her body. Her head was thrown back and her eyes rolled in their sockets as her breaths heaved forcefully, trying to gulp in enough oxygen to cope with the almost frighteningly powerful ecstasy coursing through every inch of her being. Her pee hadn’t escaped, though it still felt about to break free and spray all over everything, but her panties felt strangely wet. As the coaster continued its dives and twists, the nut in her crotch buzzed intermittently, holding her in a loop of terrifying euphoria. Whereas each new drop or spin elicited shrieks from the rest of the people riding, each one brought about a fresh moan from Angelica. She was barely even aware of the ride itself, unable to think of anything but the inexorable crashing waves of rapture holding her captive. Fresh peaks of pleasure mounted again and again, each one higher than the last, until she felt sure her body couldn’t take any more. She thrashed about in her seat, overwhelmed with the enormity of the sensations she was experiencing. Each new zenith of rhapsody brought with it a new spike of desperation, however, and it was all she could do to hold her pee in. At long last, the ride evened out and began its coast back into the loading/unloading zone. Angelica had probably reached climax multiple times on the coaster itself, and a new one had been building right up to the point of release when the buzzing had leveled off. Now it was keeping her at a low simmer, neither moving her toward release nor letting her body back down to earth. Her eyes were closed, and she didn’t dare move, since her pee was right up at the edge of her sphincter, eager for freedom. If the carriage could just stop and the vibrations go away, she could be all right—probably. The seats came to a stop over the metal floor and descended for people to disembark. Angelica could feel her toes brushing the steel surface, and then the harnesses unlatched and swiveled upwards on their hydraulic springs. She waited for the vibration in the nut to die down to how it had been when she first got on the ride, but there was no change. It remained at its same low-level buzz, keeping her at a tantalized state right on the cusp of having another orgasmic wave crash over her. She held on to the sides of the chair, leaning forward, afraid to do anything else. All around her, she could hear the other park guests climbing out of their seats, laughing with post-adrenaline relief. If only that were the only kind of relief she needed. She sat there, even as she heard the gate opening for new people to get on the ride, with all manner of assorted sensations tumbling through her head—thoughts that were closer to individual stimuli than fleshed-out concepts. She was aware of her lips, then her breasts, then remembered her wet and full pants from when she first met Lily, then Brian’s smile, then the cold of her sodden shorts at the Davis household. Footsteps neared her—most likely someone who would tell her she had to leave—but it barely registered in the menagerie of variegated memories of sense churning in her brain as simultaneous pain and pleasure hovered at a crescendo in her crotch. Angelica didn’t move from her seat. She sat there, eyes squeezed shut, breathing hard, biting her lip to keep from letting out a moan—or something else. She imagined Brian kissing her, holding her, caressing her…she remembered his smell…she remembered wearing his jacket, and how it felt like he was embracing her…and then she remembered the conditions under which she had been wearing his jacket. Her bladder was constricting in throbbing pulses as the nut continued its low-level vibration inside her, and she knew that if she tried moving right now, it would be all over. She didn’t know what to do, but she couldn’t move—not now, not like this! She could hear a park employee’s voice in front of her, “Excuse me, miss? You need to get off the ride now.” Opening one eye, she saw a young man standing in front of her, eyes searching her face, likely trying to figure out what was wrong with her. Behind him and off to the side, Lily stood staring, waiting for her. The employee gently reached out a hand. “Here, let me help you out.” Her own hand shaking, Angelica gingerly took hold of his. She was still hyperventilating, and she closed her eyes again and clenched her teeth, bracing herself for extrication. Slowly, she began to shift her weight to her feet. This was a delicate procedure. Already, even with her cautious movement, the nut’s vibration against her engorged womanhood made another moan slip embarrassingly out. She had to be careful not to move to quickly, or else… Unfortunately for her, the park employee was oblivious to her predicament. As soon as Angelica had begun to move, he, most likely in an attempt to be helpful, took hold of her other arm with his free hand and pulled her up and out of the seat in one swift movement. Angelica gasped loudly, and then the sensation of the nut making one final rub as it slid across her clitoris and out from inside her caught up to her, and the mounting wave that had towered up and up and up finally crested. Angelica screamed, against her will, drawing the attention of most of those who were still standing in line. Her head fell backwards and her legs buckled, unable to support her. Knees bent inwards, she staggered, collapsing against the employee, as pleasure once again washed over her, and then lost control of her bodily functions. Her sphincter gave way entirely, and her urine rushed out into her panties, which were already wet with a spurt of something else. Angelica hovered there, still supported by the bewildered employee, like a ragdoll pumped full of endorphins, and peed her pants. Within seconds, her panties were completely saturated, and her urine spread out horizontally on either side of her crotch, darkening the fabric, before descending in an inverted triangle down her thighs. The wetness spread out on her butt as well, and in her semi-crouched position it formed a wide wet spot underneath her butt cheeks and spreading up between them. The warm flood continued down her legs in splashing, trickling streams which cascaded from the spandex fabric at the back of her thighs, under her butt, from the bottoms of her calves, and straight from her crotch. The sheer bliss at the relief doubled her existing ecstasy and made her scream again. By this time, most of the people in line were pointing and chattering among themselves, some laughing, others scandalized. The employee holding her up didn’t know what to do, and simply stared down at her with his mouth open. Most people screamed while riding the roller coaster, and very occasionally some wet themselves, but he had never seen it happen after getting off. He didn’t realize that Angelica had just gotten off in a different sense altogether. The pee kept flowing, completely uninhibited, spreading across the front and back of both legs until it met on the outside, making the blue spandex dark and shiny. As Angelica came down from her climax, the reality of what had just happened began to pierce the euphoric haze in her brain. Her already-red face turned an even deeper shade of red and she abruptly straightened herself up, supported on her own legs again, and looked down at herself. Her mind was clearer, but the aftershocks of her accidental orgasm were still at play in her body, and she was still breathing heavily. She began to shake uncontrollably as she tried in vain to cut off the flow. Even though she was very nearly empty, she had no power to staunch the release of her urine, and instead watched as the last few seconds of pee sprayed out into her panties, trickling out of her pants to splatter in the large puddle around her feet, tinkling and spreading across the diamond plate steel floor. Even after finishing, Angelica kept staring at her mess for a few seconds more, as the final vestiges of urine dripped from the legs of her pants into her warm and wet tennis shoes. She raised her head, her face red and her mouth wide, to see the crowd of park visitors in line all staring at her and snickering to each other. Then she turned and faced the park employee, who was still holding her hand. He looked almost as uncomfortable as she was and swallowed, his eyes wide open, then quickly dropped her hand as if it were a live wire. Angelica tried to move her mouth into words, but all that emerged were half-formed stammers. Suddenly, she remembered Lily, and quickly glanced over to where Lily had been standing by the exit. Lily was still there, but her face was white as she beheld Angelica's accident. Their eyes connected, and then Lily bent over with a jump, biting her lip and jamming a hand in between her thighs. She then turned and jogged briskly out the exit door, still holding herself. A voice from her other side snapped Angelica’s attention immediately around. It was a middle-aged man wearing a Firefly Thrills polo shirt, most likely a supervisor. “Are you all right, young lady?” Both his tone and face conveyed an overlap of concern with suspicion. Angelica looked down at herself again, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, and lifted one leg to shake out the golden drops that still clung to the fabric, making a sparkling shower and sending ripples through her puddle again. She knew her face was still beet red, and also guessed that the supervisor thought she may be drunk or high. She raised her head again, but didn’t make eye contact as she responded. “I…I’m…I’m fine. I just…I need, I need…to, to go.” She looked back at the supervisor’s face with a look of guilty embarrassment, then turned to follow after Lily. Her wet pants were feeling chilly, and they chafed as her thighs rubbed back and forth, making nasty squelching sounds. Her squishy wet socks felt gross and uncomfortable, but the worst thing of all, of course, was that she was in the middle of a packed amusement park in broad daylight. There was no hiding what had happened. A single tear slipped down her cheek and she brushed it away with the back of her hand. As she made her way down the painted steel walkway back into the general park area, she contemplated what had just happened. Yes, she had wet her pants, again, after only a month since her last accident. Yes, of course, it was enormously humiliating. Yes, the same unfortunately familiar sensations brought back all the unfortunately familiar emotions. And yet—and yet she felt oddly…satisfied. The tear she had shed was almost a formality. She thought back to what had happened to her while on the roller coaster and tried to make sense of it. What was this new world of dazzling and terrifying delight that she had fallen into? What did it all mean? Conflicting feelings collided inside her. True, she had peed herself in front of a crowd, but at the same time she had been transported to blissful rhapsodies she didn’t know existed. Mortification weighed heavy on her, but brought with it a sense of impishness, of naughtiness, of the glee of getting away with something forbidden. She thought of being a little child and getting spanked for having an accident. What would it be like…if she were to get spanked…now? Angelica paused on the empty walkway and stood still for a few seconds. Then, with a bizarre boldness, she bent forward somewhat, causing her rear end to protrude slightly, then placed one hand on it, feeling the dampness. After tracing the edge of the wet spot with her fingers, she lifted her hand and brought it back down. It gave a sharp little splat as it made contact with the sodden fabric stretched across her backside, but didn’t really hurt. Pulling her hand back again, she once more gave herself a smack, this time harder. Then again. Then again. It felt strangely good. She deserved this, after all. She had wet her pants, gone pee-pee in her panties like a little baby, so now she got a spanking. A sudden jolt of realization as to what she was doing burst in upon her brain, and she straightened up like a lightning rod, pulling her hand away from her butt and looking over her shoulders to make sure no one had seen. She then resumed her walk, though at a brisker pace than before. What had just happened? She felt even more embarrassed by what she had just done than by peeing her pants. Well, maybe not, but close. But now a cause of worry had entered her mind. Could it be?…it couldn’t, no, no way…was it, though?…could it be that she actually, in a way…enjoyed wetting herself? She didn’t want to think about that. Best she just go find Lily and then—well, she would have to figure out what to do at that point. But first, find Lily. Angelica finished making her way down the inclined walkway, took a deep breath, and then stepped out of her relative privacy into the bustling hubbub of the general amusement park. Now exposed, she concentrated on walking with head held high and arms crossed, her jaw rigid with forced indifference. The less attention she drew to herself, the better. Paradoxically, it seemed most people were too focused on where they themselves were headed to notice her, though of course she did see the occasional stare, the double take, the point out to someone else and laugh. She pretended not to care. It didn’t help her to have no idea which way to go. Lily had simply run off, clutching herself, without any kind of clue as to where she would be. Angelica stopped for a moment to take in her surroundings and see if she could spot Lily’s familiar blonde hair. If Lily’s sympathetic spastic bladder had kicked in, then she had probably made a beeline for the nearest restroom. Angelica looked around for where those might be, using one hand to shield her eyes from the sunshine. Off to her right there was a refreshments kiosk, behind which there appeared to be a public toilet. That was as good a place as any to start. As she neared, it became apparent that it was indeed a restroom. There was a line of five or six women standing outside the right-hand door, and third from the end was Lily’s telltale blonde ponytail and narrow frame. She was facing forward, away from Angelica, and apparently was still doing battle with her bladder. Although she no longer had her hand in her crotch, she was rubbing her thighs and rocking back and forth from foot to foot. Angelica stepped up to stand beside her, ignoring the stares and murmurs she got from the ladies behind Lily in line. She stood there sheepishly in silence, without announcing her presence to Lily, and spread her legs open slightly to try to let the material around her crotch dry. Lily stood, bobbing and bouncing, for a few seconds before catching Angelica out of the corner of her eye. With a start, she turned towards Angelica, her face a mask of alarm. Angelica gave a weak smile and began to offer a “hi” when Lily looked down at her pants, then back up, eyes wide. She then grabbed her groin again and grimaced. Angelica’s smile fell, replaced by concern. She tilted her head to better see Lily’s face and asked, “Lil? What’s wrong?” Lily’s expression was one of anguish. “Why’d you have to come over here, Angie? Why? I could—I could’ve made it…” Her voice trailed off in a tremulous whine, and she squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lip and suppressing a groan. Just then, Angelica heard a pshhh and looked down at Lily’s crotch. Within a second, a wet stain spread out from around her hand, darkening the yellow fabric in a five-inch spot before stopping. Lily’s leak seemed to jolt her to urgency, and she shoved her other hand between her thighs as well, clenching for all she was worth. Her eyes flew open, darting about wildly in a panic. Angelica watched Lily’s plight with an open mouth, unsure of what to do. Lily was doing a full-on potty dance as she blurted out to the women in front of her, “Excuse me, but can I cut in front of you? It’s really an emergency—I don’t think…I can hold it…” Two of the three women in front of her turned around at this, but before either of them could so much as begin to answer, Lily gave out a guttural moan and doubled over. Angelica heard the hissing sound resume, but louder this time. Lily’s hands were both between her legs, and from Angelica’s position, she had a clear view of Lily’s butt, with her fingers sprouting from the crotch and stretching out over her upper thighs. Within moments, dark wetness blossomed out from Lily’s hands in a mesmerizingly captivating spectacle. It covered her bottom in a round oval, then split into multiple channels of golden liquid, each one spreading its glistening stain over the cloth, darkening the fabric underneath. The pee then began to pour out from the cuffs of Lily’s shorts on both sides in sparkling cascades. Lily stood still, unable to move as she peed herself, while the other women in line watched, giving murmurs of awkward sympathy. Since Lily’s rear end was still sticking out, some of her urine trickled down her smooth legs into her sandals, but most of it splattered out noisily behind her, splashing on the pavement and rapidly forming a puddle. The lady directly behind her gave a tiny gasp and stepped back to keep from getting peed on. Angelica watched all of this in guilty discomfort. She knew that it was watching her have an accident that made Lily need to go so urgently, but in the swirl of thoughts and emotions on the walk over here, she had forgotten about it. If she had been more mindful, she would have let Lily use the bathroom before catching up to her. So was it her fault, then? This was just like when they first met, only of course, now she knew better. Oops. Standing there stiffly, she shifted her weight to one leg and lolled her tongue inside her cheek uncomfortably while waiting for Lily to finish peeing in her pants. By this time, the women in front of Lily had noticed that Angelica’s pants were also wet and one offered her place in line to go clean up. She merely shook her head in response. After about twenty seconds, Lily’s stream died down, leaving only the last remnants of urine dripping from her shorts. With a deep breath, she slowly stood up straight and then removed her hands one at a time from her crotch. As she did so, they released a final spattering of pee out to splash down over her feet. She stared at her wet hands in disgust before wiping them off as best she could on the little dry space that remained on the hips of her shorts. Angelica felt bashful, knowing that Lily only had an accident because of her. At the same time, though, she had to admit to herself that it did feel a little better not being the only one. Did that make her a bad friend? She tried to tell herself that it didn’t, if for no other reason than that they had shared pee accidents enough times in the past. Still, she knew deep down that that was a flimsy excuse, and so she weakly placed a hand on Lily’s shoulder and spoke up in a small voice, “Hey, uh, Lil, how about we just go home?” It was a poor effort at conciliation. Lily was still looking down at herself in repulsion. After a moment, though, she lifted her head and made eye contact with Angelica again. When she spoke, her tone was somewhat softer, but still with a slight detectable edge. “Angie, you made me wet my pants.” Angelica swallowed, not knowing how to respond. Eventually, with a lame smile, she answered with a simple “Sorry?” ~Aftermath~ Now that Lily too was wet, both girls reconsidered the offer to cut the line to clean up. They spent about fifteen minutes inside, cleaning off their legs and getting all the drips out of their pants and underwear the best they could. Naturally, there was nearly nothing they could do about reducing the obviousness of the stains, and so Lily agreed to Angelica’s earlier proposal of simply calling it a day and heading out. The walk back to the entrance of the park was a silent and self-conscious one. It seemed that somehow, seeing two people who had peed themselves attracted people’s attention more than seeing just one. One overweight man, likely in his mid-twenties, jokingly asked in passing, “Got a little too excited, huh?” before continuing on his way with a bellowing laugh, and a short time late a little girl pointed and said loudly to her mother, “Look, mommy, those two women wet their pants!” before being quickly shushed. Angelica glanced over at Lily, who was looking down as she walked, her face red. She put her arm around Lily’s shoulder, giving her a slight smile as she made eye contact. Lily returned the smile, and then Angelica held out her arm for Lily to link hers with, which she did for the remainder of their walk. Back out in the parking lot, they were faced with the problem of how to keep from getting the seats wet. This was Angelica’s parents’ car—she was still looking for one of her own—and ever since the incident the previous month in Patrick’s car, the last thing she wanted was a reason to make her things more awkward between her and her mom. Patrick had said he would take care of cleaning the seat and for her not to worry about it, but she was pretty sure he had told their mom about it, and ever since then, her mom had been dropping subtle hints about maybe going to a doctor to get checked out. Angelica didn’t know which would be more embarrassing—having her mother think that she had some kind of medical condition, or admitting to her that no, these accidents were just good, old-fashioned, couldn’t-hold-it-any-more pants wettings. After digging around for a little bit, the best they could find were some fast-food napkins stuffed in the glove compartment. It was a scant solution, but better than nothing. It took a few minutes for them to devise the best distribution for maximum coverage, and once done, they needed to stay very still to stay exactly on top of the tiny areas of absorption. Since they still hadn’t had lunch, Angelica suggested they go by a drive-thru on their way back, her treat. Lily gratefully accepted, not seeming upset at Angelica anymore. They found a Jack-in-the-Box only a few minutes away, drove to it, and ordered two combo meals, then consumed them hungrily in the parking lot in the privacy of the car. Once they had finished eating, they began the drive back. It was about an hour’s drive, and the girls were both in better spirits now, and so they spent the time in fun conversation, making jokes, singing together, and such. At one point, Angelica’s phone buzzed with a text. She opened it, saw it was from Brian, and texted off a quick response. “You know, Angie, you shouldn’t be texting while driving.” Lily’s voice had a playful sternness to it that Angelica knew was meant to mimic her own voice. She blushed a little. “Yeah, I know. Sorry.” Lily gave her a conspiratorial grin. “Hmm…I wonder who would be important enough for my straight-arrow friend Angie to be texting back even when she shouldn’t be? Let’s see—survey says…Brian?” She stretched the last word out in a gooey tone. Angelica rolled her eyes and blushed more. “Yes, you got me.” She had naturally told Lily about the developments there, with Lily giving her full support, as any best friend would. Lily demonstrated it now, giggling and kicking her legs in excitement. As quickly as her mirth had begun, however, it died away, a look of concern on her face as she stared out the windshield. Angelica knew what had caused it. In front of them, the theretofore relatively clear traffic came to a sudden grinding halt. There were bumper-to-bumper brake lights in front of them, as far as they could see. Angelica sighed. She hadn’t expected this much backup. In addition, she could feel slight consternation nosing its way into her head, as the water and combo drink from earlier were working their way through her, and she was starting to need to go to the bathroom again. She looked over at Lily, wondering if she were feeling the same urges. But after what had happened in the park, she knew better than to mention it. As it turned out, she didn’t need to. After no more than five minutes in the jam, with excruciatingly little progress made, Lily spoke up. “I need to pee.” It was a simple enough statement, but Angelica knew her well enough to detect the nigh-imperceptible tremor in her voice. What it meant was “and we should find a place where I can do that, pretty soon.” She also knew better than even to agree, knowing that once Lily knew someone else was in the same boat, it would only make her have to go even more. So instead, she gave a noncommittal “mhm.” Their conversation continued, but Angelica could tell it was less lively than before. As the minutes passed by, and her own bladder refilled, she could also gauge Lily’s need by how much less she spoke. After another fifteen minutes, in which they had maybe gone one and a half miles, Lily groaned and crossed her legs. She looked over to Angelica and whined, “Angie, I reeeally have to go. Can’t we find someplace?” Angelica grimaced awkwardly. The next exit was in about three miles, and if their rate of travel stayed the same, they wouldn’t reach it for close to another half an hour. She shrugged and said, “I’m sorry, Lil, but we probably can’t for at least another thirty-five to forty minutes. Do you think you can wait that long?” Immediately after saying it, she wondered why she had bothered to ask that last question. It wasn’t as if they had an alternative option in case Lily couldn’t wait. Lily merely responded with another groan, shifting around in her seat, despite the careful arrangement of napkins under her. Angelica looked over at her in compassion, empathizing with her as her own tank filled. She wasn’t feeling as desperate as Lily, but she was having a difficult time ignoring it now. Since Lily wasn’t up for conversation much, she decided to try to take her mind off it by going back to texting Brian. They continued, with short periods of advancing followed by longer ones of sitting still, during which Angelica would continue her phone dialogue and do her best to console Lily. Another fifteen minutes went by, during which Lily had whined and groaned more, lamenting the slowness of traffic and the quantity of her urine. She had also leaned forward in her seat and put her hands in her crotch, and she was now rocking slightly, giving whimpers through clenched teeth. Angelica figured it probably would be best for her to take a break from texting to be there for her friend. Dropping the phone in her lap, she turned to Lily. “You can make it, Lil. You’re gonna be okay.” Lily didn’t reply. Of course, Angelica had her doubts about whether Lily would indeed be okay or not. As she watched her best friend struggle with her full bladder, her thoughts began to wander. She knew what Lily was going through, thinking back to when she herself had had an accident a couple of years earlier, at the harvest festival. In fact, knowing what it felt like was an instrumental reason why the two of them were friends now. But at the harvest festival—that had happened in front of Brian. And here she was, years later, still in touch. Were the two connected somehow? A full bladder and attraction to Brian? And now her mind drifted back to her experience on the roller coaster and immediately afterward. Her thoughts had been flooded with those images of him, right before her pants had been flooded with her pee. And then on the walkway… She didn’t know what it all meant, but as her urge to pee increased now, and seeing Lily’s do the same, and the texts from Brian came in, she could feel a new moistness in her panties. Then, with no warning, her bladder suddenly contracted, releasing a short spurt of urine out, rewarming the area around her private parts. She gasped, leaned forward, and quickly used her free hand to grab her crotch. It had just been a small leak and was quickly cut off, but it had come as a surprise. And, unfortunately, it had not gone unnoticed by Lily. Lily had turned toward Angelica when she had first leaked, and now her face went red. She bit her lip with a moan, then said, in a small and shaky voice, “I’m sorry, Angie. I don’t think I’m gonna make it.” Then she squeezed her eyes shut and groaned. “I’m going to wet my pants…oh my gosh, I’m going to wet myself…” A second after that, the telltale hiss began, and Angelica watched, transfixed, as Lily’s yellow shorts once again sprouted a dark patch, the wetness spreading rapidly across her thighs even as she continued to hold herself. She knew that there was no way the napkins under Lily’s butt would be enough to protect the seat, and she wondered how much it cost to get the seats cleaned—and if her mom would ever let her borrow the car again. Witnessing her friend’s loss of control, however, only amplified her own need—and strangely, simultaneously increased the excitement she was feeling in her privates. She had to stay in control, though. She couldn’t let a repeat of what had happened earlier occur. It didn’t help that her panties had gotten all warm around her sensitive spot from her leak earlier. Then she realized that she was still holding herself, and that the whole time she had been, her phone had still been in her lap. It was now pressed up against her groin by her hand. And then, it buzzed. Angelica gasped and gripped herself harder. It was probably another text from Brian. But it had vibrated right up against her clitoris, just like the roller coaster, and now her excitement was building, and she had to focus on holding her pee… And then the phone buzzed again. She knew that if the phone weren’t right in her crotch, she would be fine. But she had to keep holding herself, afraid to remove her hand—yet the harder she held herself, the more she was pushing the phone deeper into her most sensitive area… And the phone buzzed again. She was breathing harder now, and her face was flushed. All the same sensations from earlier were reappearing, and her bladder was tightening. She needed to hold on…but at the same time, she needed it to continue… She looked over at Lily, who was still clenching tightly. She had seemed to get her pee under control again, though there was clearly a wet puddle around her rear end. Angelica thought of her own rear end, and the punishment she had given herself on the walkway… And then the phone buzzed harder. It was a phone call, Angelica knew. She leaned forward, gripping herself even harder, as the vibrations built a tower of euphoria that was about to crash on top of her. A moan escaped her lips, making Lily turn a face of bewilderment on her. She could hear Lily’s voice, “Are you okay, Angie?” but she was unable to answer. Instead, another moan came out, this time louder, as the buzzing continued. Her pee was at the very cusp of escaping all over the seat, but she imagined it was Brian calling her, and in a way, it felt as if he were doing this to her. Her moans grew faster along with her breathing, and the phone kept buzzing, and the ecstasy was mounting, and she was about to pee her pants again… No, no, no! And she imagined Brian spanking her… Yes, yes, yes! And then it burst out, on both ends. She screamed out a “YES!” as the wave of pleasure crested and overwhelmed her. Her body was not her own anymore, held captive instead to the dazzling exhilaration washing over her. She threw herself back into the seat, her breaths short grunts as she twitched and shook, and she no longer had any control over her bladder. Lily hadn’t understood the force of the answer to her question, but then, watching Angelica’s bizarre seizure, she too heard a loud hiss and stared in shock as Angelica’s jeggings quickly went dark around the crotch again. Unlike her own loss of control, which she had tried to fight and eventually successfully curtailed, Angelica seemed to not even notice her own. Her urine sprayed out loudly, spreading around her hand and down her thighs, rapidly puddling around her butt and even dripping over the sides of the chair. Lily stared in horror as she noticed that Angelica was still holding her phone with the hand between her thighs, and it was getting thoroughly drenched. She was panting and bright red, barely able to focus on the road as she went to the bathroom in her pants, completely soaking the seat. Unfortunately, this was all too much for Lily. She had barely been able to get herself under control before the mess had gotten too big—she hoped—but now that Angelica was totally wetting herself, there was no way she could hold back any longer. With a “no!” her own floodgates reopened, and her butt went warm again, then hot, her pee spraying out from her crotch across her thighs and making her own puddle extend to the edge of the seat to drip down the front as well. She too had a total loss of bladder control and wet herself for another thirty seconds, until she was completely empty. Angelica by now had been coming down from her high, her second unintentional orgasm of the day. She pushed a strand of hair off her sweat-streaked forehead and lifted her dripping phone out from where it had taken its golden shower. Turning on the screen, she saw that the phone call had not been from Brian after all, but from her mom. So too had been the text messages. They read, Angelica, when do you think you’ll be back? I want to see about setting up a doctor’s appointment for you. I’m concerned about you, baby girl. She dropped her phone back into her puddle in resignation. Just great. As the last of her climax died down inside her, she wondered how she could possibly get out of it now, coming home with two massive pee puddles in the seats. At least this traffic would provide ample time to think of something.

Hello, everyone, I have a new story. This one's gonna be a bit different from my usual ones, and is much slower paced than the others. This first chapter contains desperation and fear wetting, but later ones will involve messing as well. Any feedback is always appreciated, and I hope you guys enjoy. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “So this path here will get us there faster?” Hazel asked. “Faster than most,” Alma replied. Their horse-drawn carriage rattled along the cobblestone path. The old, rickety wheels squeaking in protest at the movement. Hazel’s eyes scanned the treeline surrounding them. Tall oak trees surrounded them, creating an almost impenetrable-looking forest wall. Hazel’s heart skipped a beat as a sudden bout of claustrophobia surged through her. “... And, where did you learn about this path?” Hazel continued her questioning, still staring off into the forest. “At the tavern, just before we left Westacre,” Alma pointed her thumb behind them, gesturing to the town they’d set out from earlier that day, “A traveler recommended this road, said it would get us over to Arnwick twice as fast as any other path,”. “Did he perhaps mention if this path was… safe?” Hazel managed to keep most of her concern out of her voice, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong with this place. “Most paths aren’t,” Alma answered flatly. While her left hand continued to clutch the reins, her right one hoisted up her elegant crossbow, “That is why I’m carrying this,” Hazel’s eyes fell to the quiver that was full almost to bursting with crossbow bolts. What little daylight remained danced off the silver heads of the bolts. Silver, she thought, so she’s expecting more than just wolves. Alma turned her head slightly, just enough to glance at Hazel, her expressionless face changed to a calm smile, “I do this sort of thing for a living, Hazy. I haven’t been killed yet, and I’m sure as hell not gonna let you get killed on your first outing” Hazel looked into Alma’s pale blue eyes, and she believed her. Alma had been a hunter for many years, and she was damn good at it. She had also once been Hazel’s best and closest friend, until circumstance had driven them apart six years ago. Only two weeks ago had the two rekindled their friendship. Hazel had expected the two would practically be strangers after so much time apart, but the moment they started talking, it was as though they hadn’t been apart for more than a day. Hazel was further comforted as she inspected her friend’s apparel and equipment. The differences in their career choices were evident just from a single glance. Alma wore a black, wide-brimmed hat, a dark brown leather coat that reached halfway down her thighs, a crimson shirt, and black pants. A cross necklace dangled near her modest breasts. Years-old scrapes, tears, and claw marks dotted her coat. More than a few knives were sheathed on her belt. And Hazel knew that, though Alma’s clothes hid them, her physique was nothing to scoff at. Her brown hair was pulled into a loose bun behind, leaving some strands free, and allowing for a clear view of her hardened facial features, which had been slightly tanned from her time in the sun. She looked every bit the demon-killer that she was. Hazel, by comparison, looked frightfully plain. Almost ironically memorable by virtue of being so forgettable. At least, by her own judgment- Alma and several others had insisted that she was being too hard on herself, but Hazel was unconvinced. Her blonde hair hung just past her shoulders, whipping ceaselessly about in the wind. She had the clean, unmarred face and hands of someone who’d never had to struggle for much. Her bright, green eyes stood out against the paleness of her face. Her small frame was covered by a dark red dress with black adorning its edges. It was old enough that she didn’t mind it getting dirty, and loose enough that she could run easily if she had to. She was nearly twenty-four years old, yet she still had an air of almost childlike innocence about her. Issues of her own confidence aside, she was reassured by her friend’s presence. Alma was the type of person to rise to any challenge, who would face any foe and not back down. Hazel felt that she, herself, was more the type to piss herself and hide if things got truly dangerous. Speaking of pissing, Hazel was beginning to feel the urge to relieve herself. She wondered how Alma handled this when she was out here, all alone. Surely, she couldn’t just stop a hunt, or leave her client behind to go water the grass. Did she just have to hold it? What did she do once she just… couldn’t anymore? Hazel chuckled lightly at the thought of this brave monster hunter having to wet her pants, then continue her job like nothing happened. What if she had to do worse? At any rate, she didn’t want to force Alma to stop the carriage for her, so she kept her mouth shut for the moment. To distract herself from her growing needs, she thought back to her home that she was leaving behind in Westacre. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d ventured beyond the boundaries of her home town. But monster attacks had reduced the traders and caravans coming in to a trickle, and she worried that the town would soon be dried up. It was a stroke of luck that she had reacquainted with Alma, who was extremely well-versed in braving the wilderness. The two agreed upon a plan to travel to Arnwick, a popular town that wasn't going away any time soon. She envisioned the lovely shop she would own in Arnwick, getting to know the new people, getting to try all the local flavors. It was a trivial thing to be excited over, but she was excited nonetheless. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Night had come. The two had made camp just off the road. Almost immediately, Alma had made a ring of salt around the camp. When Hazel had asked why, Alma answered that it would keep the beasts away, otherwise something would likely attack them in the night. Her answer had been quick and to-the-point, but it was nonetheless enough to frighten Hazel into holding her urine even longer. She didn’t wish to venture past the salt-line and into the dangerous woods to relieve herself, but she also didn’t wish to piss on the ground right in front of her old friend. So it was that she came to be inside of their tent with Alma sleeping soundly beside her. Hazel, however, was not asleep. She was lying on her side with both of her hands pressed into her womanhood. Her mind was racing as she weighed her options. She was mere moments from completely pissing herself and, at this distance, pissing on Alma as well. She really didn’t want to do that, but if she just peed outside the tent, Alma could wake up and find her in the middle of the act. And, of course, to venture beyond the salt-line… Of her three options, two were utterly humiliating, and one was potentially deadly. A quick psssshhh sound, accompanied by a sudden warmth at her crotch and on her hands made her blood run cold. She had just peed a little. She had to make up her mind quickly, or else her body would happily decide for her. She groaned internally, before forcing herself to rise, and walk outside the tent. She held herself tightly through her short, white nightgown, yet even so, every step threatened to be her last dry one. She hitched up the hem of her gown, and hooked her thumbs into her panties, preparing to lower them. Glancing back, she noticed Alma stirring slightly in her sleep. She would surely awaken at the noise that Hazel would make. Another quick spurt escaped from her, warming her groin once more. This time, however, she could feel a bead of wetness trickling down her right thigh. Groaning aloud this time, she moved for the salt-line. I just need a minute- less really! She thought, with great desperation, Just need to find a tree, empty myself, and come back, nice and simple! Once she was far away enough that she was sure Alma would not hear her urinating, she lowered her panties and squatted. Her body didn’t need any convincing to release its pent-up liquids. She sighed with deep, genuine relief as her pee splashed against the dirt and grass. The hissing sound dominated the otherwise quiet forest. She glanced down to inspect the damage to her underwear, and grimaced at the wet patch, a few inches in diameter. The white fabric had turned somewhat see-through. She would have to ensure that she was the one to wash their clothes, lest Alma happen upon her pissed-in panties. Hazel heard a sudden noise behind her. Nothing so simple as the snap of a twig, or the rustling of branches. It was a horrible, sucking sound, one that seemed to echo, despite being fairly quiet. Whatever the wind must sound like in Hell, she was sure it was a similar kind of sound. She was petrified with fright. Her hairs stood on end, and her bladder continued to empty, showing no signs of stopping, or even slowing. An eerie, iridescent greenish-blue light illuminated the forest around her, and the horrible, echoing sound was closer now. Shaking like a leaf, she blinked away tears. She felt an emptiness in her gut that made her feel like she going to vomit. She knew what this was: Fear. True fear. She’d been afraid before, or at least thought she had, but she had never known real terror like this. The echoing sound was so close, now, just behind the tree she was squatting near. She took as deep a breath as she could, yanked her panties back up, and sprinted back towards the camp. The light and the bone chilling sound it produced took off after her. She didn’t dare turn her head to look at it. She rushed through branches and bushes, feeling them tear her gown and cut into her flesh. She felt something else, despite her attempts to ignore it: hot urine coursing down her thighs. In the back of her mind, she realized that she had never stopped peeing, even after she had yanked her underwear back up. With each frantic step, droplets of piss were flung from her legs, which were steaming in the chill night air. Her movements had caused the pee to run in erratic rivulets all down her legs, and her panties were soaked from front to back. The wetness had even reach the front and back of her gown. She tried to call out for Alma, but she could not find her voice, only frightened whimpers emerged. Finally, after what felt like hours of running, she crossed back over the line of salt. If Alma was right, the creature should follow her past it. The combination of fear and exhaustion caused Hazel to trip, and her hand slammed down into the pots they’d use to cook the night’s meal. The metal instruments were flung about, making quite a lot of noise, but Hazel wasn’t the least bit interested in them. She rolled over, now laying on her back, then sat up. At long last, she saw the creature that had chased her. It looked like a man, but his flesh was rotted, and cloaked in a bright, greenish-blue light. A ghost, no doubt. Hazel had heard they haunted the forests, but she had never seen one. It just floated there, glaring hungrily at the girl. It seemed Alma was right about them not being able to pass the salt-line. Staring at the frightful creature, she felt the last of her urine trickle out of her, the warmth seeping into her bottom, then pooling below her. Most of her urine had passed, so her puddle was only a few inches across. In the blink of an eye, the flaps to the tent had flown open, and Alma emerged. She had clearly just been shaken from her sleep, and was only wearing her black bra and panties, along with her coat that had very hastily been thrown on. Her powerful, rippling muscles wound up and down her body, and her hair hung loose around her head. Her eyes darted from Hazel to the spirit, seeming to take in the situation almost instantly. Alma reached inside the tent, and retrieved her crossbow and a silver bolt. Faster than Hazel thought possible, the weapon was loaded and aimed at the ghost. Alma didn’t hesitate even for a second before letting the bolt fly. Unlike any other weapon would have done, the silver bolt penetrated into the ghost, jutting out of the spirit just as though it had struck flesh. Giving off an echoing howl, the spirit writhed in agony, then dissipated entirely. The bolt remained levitating in the air for a brief moment, then plummeted back down to earth. “Hazy, what did you-” Alma began sternly, but stopped as Hazel’s tear-filled eyes looked up at her. After a moment of silence, the hunter settled on saying “Are you alright?”. Hazel didn’t bother to see if her voice had returned, she just nodded. Alma lowered her hand, and offered it to Hazel. The moment that she was on her feet again, Hazel collapsed into Alma, wrapping her arms around her tightly, “Alma...” she choked out between sobs, “I was so… so scared...” Alma awkwardly returned the hug, trying to stabilize her friend, “I know, I know, but it’s okay now,”. Once Hazel had come to her senses, she realized that the pee-soaked cloth of her gown and panties had been pressed up against Alma’s thigh. She broke off the hug, and took a step back, embarrassedly covering the wet patch with her hands. Alma’s eyes followed the movement until they reached her crotch. Throwing her arm over Hazel’s shoulder, Alma lead her friend towards their supplies, “Let’s get you changed, then you need to rest,”. Hazel continued to lean into her friend for support until they retrieved a box that contained some spare clothes from the parked carriage. Alma averted her eyes, giving her some privacy. Hazel was ashamed as she realized how easy the whole situation could have been. Instead, she’d risked her life to try and stave off some embarrassment, and failed anyway. After a couple of minutes, Hazel emerged from the carriage, now wearing a clean set of underwear and a fresh gown. Her misery must have been pretty obvious, as Alma stopped her on their walk back to the tent. Next to each other, the hunter stood almost a full head taller than Hazel. Her face once again shifted to that warm smile, “Don’t look so sad, Hazel. This sort of thing happens all the time,” Hazel dared to meet her friend’s gaze, “Even to someone like you?” Hazel asked in harsh, skeptical voice. “What, you think I’ve never pissed my pants before? Never shit my pants before?” The hunter smiled earnestly, “Hazy, I fight those things almost every day. I’ve soiled more pairs of pants than you could count,”. Hazel looked away from her friend, eyeing the dirt. She felt a strong hand clasp her shoulder, then heard Alma speak again, “You are so hard on yourself, and you don’t deserve even a word of things I know you think about yourself,” Hazel felt more tears coming to her eyes, “I’ve never seen anyone want to be a better person more than you, Hazy; and that’s why I know that you’ve got what it takes to do this. That’s why I know you’ll come out of this just fine, and be stronger for it. That’s why...” she paused until Hazel looked her directly in the eyes, “That’s why I know that you’ll come out of this as a better person. Because you always do, even if you never realize it,”. Once again, Hazel hugged her friend tightly as she wept, although this time under much happier circumstances. The two returned to bed; Hazel was physically and mentally exhausted, and Alma was eager to return to sleep. They would need their energy for the road ahead. The journey to Arnwick had only just begun.

Hey! It's been a while since I've been able to do anything on here. I don't know how often I'll be able to post here, but whenever I can I figured I'd make a thread for most of my omorashi artwork I make. The first one is Robin From Stranger Things. I tend to shy away from adapting anything live action, but I guess I never really got over it when she said she had wet herself sometime during season 3. I realize it's been out for over half a year, but in the interest of not spoiling things I elected to fabricate a scene in which she would wet herself rather than use the actual scene she would have allegedly wet herself. Hope you enjoy! You might notice I went a little overboard on her hair volume, and took a few liberties with her facial features (read: I am bad at replicating things). Hope you don't mind!

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 girl 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 girl 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 girl’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 girl’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.

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

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.

Hello again, people of the forums! Let's make some beautiful art. CHARACTER GUIDE: 1. Lara Croft 2. Samus Aran 3. Nova 4. Sarah Kerrigan 5. Lara Croft 6. Sarah Kerrigan

“I see the stars” she murmured as the dark of night befell them as they lay on the hard ground. The two women stared off into the darkness as they sleep the remains of a battle crumbling beside them. *three months beforehand* The lord sat on her throne her sword and staff hanging from a armor stand. the room was pristine not a speck of dust as the lord who was a women with flowing brown hair with sharp features and was muscular but somewhat out of shape mostly with her years on the throne to blame that throne she had at the age of 23 the youngest ruler in decades She sat consumed by worry as she waited to receive a message that could be arriving anytime she was sweating with worry as so she claimed The message arrived the lord squirmed with...anticipation? Anyways the lord listened closely as a servant read the letter aloud the lord looked...worried? As she had her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth clenched halfway through the letter a faint wind passed through the room and the lords expression changed from the clenched jaw to a deep sigh with a faint smile on her face she adjusted her seat and finished listening the message confirmed it they were at war The lord excused herself claiming that she required time to develop a plan for war and she walked to her room called her most personal servant and locked the door shut The lord who’s name happened to be Melissa extended her arms letting her servant by the name of Anna Anna begann undoing the laces on the back of Melissa‘s dress letting her take deep breaths freely anna also removed the silk fabric of the garment supporting Melissa’s breasts soon Melissa’s entire top was off and Anna began removing the layered skirts that covered a simple fabric miniskirt held on by a fine leather belt that few would ever see something else even fewer wound see the skirt itself was soaked through anna who unfortunately was having to kneel to remove such garments had her head unfortunately close to the skirt that was hopelessly stained yellow Melissa shifted and said “hurry up i to...just hurry” as her legs squeezed together Anna was use to doing this as she finally finished unbuckling the belt And all that was left were the formerly white panties that were regretfully full with the mess squished almost flat against her rear but anna removed the panties and diligently wiped Melissa’s private’s until they were clean all the while Melissa tried her hardest not to let out all urine that was left as she was about to rush to the bathroom a knock echoed off the hardwood door “ queen allies have arrived and are requesting a immediately council” anna without missing a beat took something out of a nearby drawer and stated “please spread your legs my lord I highly recommend you wear this” it was a soft garment with buttons on the sides and three inch thick cloth “why must I” Melissa asked trying to escape to her bathroom “Well...ummm....comfort...and convenience” anna said not giving Melissa much time to think slipping the undergarments on and swiftly redressing the queen With that Melissa was rushed out the door to the awaiting lords Melissa attempted to walk regally but it was difficult with the unusual bulk. She sat at the large square table and joined the normal conversation minutes of this pass and something didn’t seem right to Melissa Before she had ascended to power Melissa had been a soldier and she knew when something was wrong now was one of those times as mere seconds later smoke rippled off the surface of the table yet her days on the battlefield had be more than four years ago her old habits took over Melissa rushed to the armor stand and swiftly unhooked the staff from its leather bindings she heard noises from the high smoke she took a deep breath and remembered her training “focus remove distractions”she thought as she got ready to rid herself of the bulging pain in her bladder she took a deep breath as the golden liquid spilled down but strangely none ran down her legs and at that moment she knew what the garment was. “a diaper” “haven’t worn one in a while” she relaxed her body and got ready for any oncoming threats “Hey lissa” one of her friends whispered they of course were not supposed be taking they were marching to battle lissa as most called her, was marching to her first battle as a solider she in the light plate armor alongside many others all had thoughts of glory and grander not knowing whats to come “what is it” lissa whispered back “do you have to pee” the friend asked “no” lissa lied “ok” similar small banter was shot back and forth until they saw them...the foe they marched against Lissa joined the charge holding the flimsy looking blade she had been given and stared hacking and slashing and in a blur she was separated from her unit to a near empty side of the battlefield A person in a showy light blue fabric top that seemed unfit for combat and a skirt that was barely covering anything with slits on the sides yet with no regard to wind the skirt showed nothing and a out of place halbiert on her back the women strolled along with long strands of the blue cloth trailing behind her and turned to see lissa all alone Lissa held her sword shakily and ran at the women who in one smooth motion took her weapon and stabbed at lissa Lissa fell back to see her Breastplate has saved her lissa sat up and scuttled back seeing the women standing above her “looks like i got you” she said in a peppy voice lissa was terrified as she stumbled backwards the poorly made pants of her uniform tearing of on a patch of briers she has gone through ripping the cheap fabric off of her chest The women approached once more and tilted her head and said in the kind of voice that a parent uses on a small child ” aww did you wet yourself” she said as lissa looked down to see the panties she was wearing as she saw more and more rippled out saturating the gray panties the women licked her lips and said “i may just enjoy your company as she got closer and lissa’s world shifted to black Melissa stood steadfast preparing for whatever came a she spotted a flash of blue and lunged slamming the blunt silver tip of the staff into the assassin the women who was wearing A showy light blue fabric top that seemed unfit for combat and a skirt that was barely covering anything with slits on the sides yet with no regard to wind the skirt showed nothing and a out of place halbiert on her back the women hit the ground with long strands of the blue cloth trailing behind her “You” she said “did you wet yourself this time as well” she said as she and Melissa started clashing there weapon the women’s halbert and Melissa’s staff they fought nearly as equals Lissa awoke upright naked with her hands bound somewhat comfortably below her a pit above her the women in blue sat up from a nearby chair of the log cabin they sat in “here drink this” the women demanded and lissa still half awake only started noticing her the current events the women was pouring a green liquid down her throat but lissa didn’t struggle She was too afraid the women bent over and leaned close putting her head against lissa’s stomach “do you feel it” “rippling throughout your body shaking it to its core” Lissa felt a sharp pain as the strange liquid shot through her taking anything in her stomach and shooting out into the pit in a pressurized jet after nearly two minutes of this it slowed spitting into several trails spilling down her thighs The women in blue placed a long plank of wood across the pit and began removing lissa’s bounds lissa in a moment of panic she kicked wildly knocking the women into the pit below The women screeched and was silenced with a splash lissa pulled the wood plank until it fell of into the pit hitting the women’s head knocking her out lissa fell backwards onto the floor trying to stay her breath She spent minutes before standing back up and beginning to rummage through the log cabin knowing she couldn’t leave in the nude in the first drawer she found several other skirts similar to the one the women was wearing she tried on a gray one that seemed like anyone could see up yet when she looked in the mirror to see nothing was visible she moved and shook but it always stayed down she couldn’t even lift it up it was completely stiff lissa decided it was to showy Lissa found normal foodstuffs in the kitchen and nothing of interest in the living room but she found the women’s bedroom The bedroom had many drawers and dressers along with armor stands wearing everything from full scale maile to a pink tutu lissa began looting Lissa found a simple cloth top and a knee length skirt with built in fabric panties that comfortably cradled her privates, lissa opened a drawer to see numerous folded cloth panties lissa snagged some strangely enough at the bottom of the drawer there was a false bottom, she lifted it away to see what looked like...diapers twenty of them three different types five pull-ups five with tapes on the sides and ten that didn’t connect in any logical way but as soon as she picked one up to get a better look she watched as it moved on its own and disappeared only for her to feel it slot itself in between her legs she now knew what the skirt was for. Lissa shamefully took all of the diapers for herself and there was a strange contraption that involved several ropes and a diaper a object that confirmed that this woman ether was or had contact with a magic user, they were uncommon but did exist Lissa on her way out took a halbert with her and left the cabin Melissa parried a stab from the women’s halbert and returned with full force hitting the women in the stomach and slamming her into a wall Melissa continued with a savage stream of attacks the silver tip of her staff catching the women’s clothes and tearing them off the women tried to hold it in but her body released a small amount of urine with astounding speed the women threw a object at Melissa but she knocked to back only for the contraption to spring to life with chains binding to the walls and methodically removing what was left of her skirt and her damp panties and the chains holding her still pulled an absurdly large diaper onto her with metal chains across the bottom and sides finally the contraption snapped a lock on the chained diaper so even if she did escape the diaper would stay on yet the contraption finished dangling from the ceiling, Melissa looked at the panties on the ground to see that the bottom was soaked through Melissa in a mocking tone said “aww did you wet your self” “did you piss your panties” the women quietly whispered something “what did you say”Melissa said the women spoke quietly and said “yes” she whispered “are you sure I thought you said “I was so scared i wet my panties” didn’t you” The women yelled “I WAS SO SCARED I WET MY PANTIES NOW LET ME DOW-” she said before cutting herself off and her hands shooting down to her crotch to futility stop herself but it no avail the diaper slowly turned yellow as small droplets fell to the floor “anna remove her and place her in the dungeon and don’t give her any clothes ether” said as she began dragging the other five unconscious queens to her bedchamber to awaken them Melissa had awkwardly woken up the rest of the lords one of which had wet herself queen grenson one had wet and messed herself queen mespisr Two admitted had admitted to wearing diaper queens shmits and lokedth And the last one who had clearly messed herself but denied it as she winced and sat down with a loud squelch but she continued denying it queen cosuply Grenson borrowed some of Melissa’s panties and a dress Mespisr had brought her own change shmits didn’t need a change since she didn’t wet to badly lokedth had a servant change her diaper cosuply had denied any help and took the no stops ride home without a change As soon as they all left Melissa locked her chambers and demanded for anna to undress her “whats the rush” anna asked “I need to use the restroom please hurry” “Just go thats the point of the diaper” anna said Melissa was annoyed but anna was right as she relaxed as a large bulge formed on her rear visible even with her dress on The feeling took her back to her war days Anna was undressing Melissa when the question appeared “anna where do you get this diaper on short notice” “Oh it was one of mine i used them for long trips” “Oh ok then” and they finished in silence “There is a war going on” Melissa thought sitting on her throne “here i am surrounded by guards and servants undisturbed by the people struck down on the battlefield” She had made her decision She was joining the war Part two Lissa wandered through the woods unknowingly walking in hopes of finding someone, it had been nine days since she left the cabin and she had not changed clothes the diapers being so convenient sadly she only had one slip in diaper left. No matter how long she walked none of the sounds of a bustling tavern none of the lights of a homestead just forest. She set up camp for the night laid down and lifted up her skirt let the diapers do there thing while she enjoyed the convenience of magic Later lissa laid down for rest that night as she did many nights it was cool out but she was warm enough and sleep took her Melissa listened to her adverses they were to worried but she did not heed them Melissa was on a warpath and there was no stopping her. She stood above her army on the large stage preparation for the rousing speech to rally the hunters to war. her force the land of sliavea ten thousand strong against the upstart nation of searsler that had a meager one thousand it would be simple hardly a war at all. It was an ok speech but Melissa was never one for presentation so feeling the unease she drew her wheel lock pistol and pointed it at the sky after five or six pulls of the trigger it fired the shot in some random direction the people were cheering completely sure in there leader unaware of the droplets of urine in her panties Lissa lay groggy from sleep only to be snapped awake by the sound of sticks breaking the noise getting closer and closer she scurried for her halbert soon she saw a lady in a modest green tunic and a foil at her side the women approached in a friendly manner “Ho there traveler”she said nicely “would you kindly put down the weapon” she followed up with Lissa set the halbert down and asked “can you tell me where i am” “Ok how about we play a game first” she proposed drawing her sword “A sparring match” the women offered “you win and i tell you anything you want to know and be on my way”she started but before lissa could say anything The women finished with “and if i win...you get to be my slave for six months and do whatever I please”she said with a evil gleam in her eyes “So what will it be”she said “and you up for a match” Lissa thought for a moment what could she do with a foil against a halbert that flimsy sword would snap in a second “I agree to your challenge” lissa stated confidently only seconds later feeling some... inconvenient urges “Ok now” the women said taking a stance “Ok i just need to hold it a little while longer Lissa thought to her self as she brandished the halbert the lady snapped into action Lunging strait at lissa, lissa of course blocked with her halbert the women stopped short the tip of her blade pushed against the wooden shaft of the halbert yet despite her failed attack she grinned and said “do you know the smallest splinter in wood can split the entire shaft” lissa was confused for a moment before the women trusted her blade the wooden shaft reduced to splinters lissa jumped sputtering urine then she remembered she was wearing a diaper she took a deep breath and let it go the fabric clinging wetly to her privates. soon the diaper full settled between her legs,she got ready and went on the offensive Melissa entered the tailors “I need an outfit refitted” she stated “right away” the cleck replied and funneled her into the backrooms she had known this tailor for years. Theo silver was a youth of 24 well dressed and had a head of purple hair that he spent to much money on purple dye keeping it that color he and Melissa had been on and off for about six years she was wearing “do you mind” he asked “never for you” she replied. he skillfully undid the lace and had the outfit off in minutes “you still can be My servant” she offered “no I could never do that it would upset my father we have a very proud bloodline as tailors” he knelt down to remove her skirt “anyways hows yo-“ he cut himself off after removing her underskirt and getting a fill view of the numerous yellow stains on her white panties “care to explain” theo asked politely “Its been a...minor problem recently” she explained Theo sighed and said “I have something for this” and he left the room and returned with a pile of clothes “first please change out of those” he said handing her a pair of clean panties and he pulled a curtain and let her change she stepped out and stretched a minute “they feel...bulky” she said “they will absorb and small...mishaps and these” he said pulling a extremely thick cloth diaper out of the pile “they will be hard to walk with but for a long ride they are perfect” “and lastly” he pulled out a thinner pull on diaper “for more active use” her finished fitted her armor “you have some rust on the thigh plates make sure to avoid we-“ he cut himself off again and rushed her out Lissa lunged her weapon getting shorter and shorter with each attack. The women struck with her blade lissa ducked to the side and elbowed her in the back the womenfell to her knees lissa took a few steps forward her back to the women suddenly...click all of lissa’s muscles tensed as she turned around and saw the women holding a wheel lock pistol that had misfired with the morning dew Lissa ran at the women who stumbled across the wet grass her tunic riding high she slipped fell on her face giving lissa a clear view of her panties that had warm piss spilling down her thighs as a large bulge slowly formed in the back of her panties lissa got ready to leave her camp packed and the women tied to a tree And they both continued there journeys

Hi! Here is my Skyrim mod! It makes all female characters incontinent, including (perhaps) the player! Female player characters will also wet the bed. Though I hear the puddle sometimes doesn't show up, it seemed to mostly work for me D: Anyway! The only real requirement is those crazy ZaZ Animations and everything that requires. http://www.loverslab.com/topic/17062-zaz-animation-pack/ I do, however, recommend playing with the UNP female body mod of your choice, and the UNP sexy armor replacer so you can actually see the messing :O http://skyrim.nexusmods.com/mods/6709 http://skyrim.nexusmods.com/mods/34160 There is also a Brawl Bug mod which is a good idea to have as well. http://skyrim.nexusmods.com/mods/24020 EDIT: All the requirements should be in incontinenceModBundle.rar! Explicit Content incontinenceMod.rar incontinenceModBundle.rar

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 girl 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 girl’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 girl’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?”

hello. I'm back now with a new story for you's all. I said in my last post that i was going to make more content but that was a month ago, sorry for the delay but here we are. just a description of what i look like. young (early 20's , skinny, no body hair, very smooth skin average height and i prefer wearing woman's clothes most of the time. It was a Monday night and i decided to go swimming for a little bit of exercise (as i do on a Monday) and arrived, got in and changed into my swimming briefs and have a quick rinse and pop into the pool. The water was nice and warm for a cold and rainy night so was off to a great start. I always brings a 1LT bottle of ice cold water with me to keep me cool and hydrated and every time i reached the start of the pool i took a small break and finished about 1/5th of the bottle. So after about an hour i decided to get out of the pool as the leisure centre was closing in half an hour plus getting pretty tired as i was trying to push my self a little bit more in the pool. walking back to my locker and it was !!!FREEZING!!! doesn't help that I'm skinny and i don't have any body hair from the neck down so clean shaven everywhere. Once i got into my locker i got my shampoo conditioner and body wash and went for a nice hot shower and after that wen't back into my locker, took everything out and started to get changed. Began by slipping down my swimming breifs, hung them up and began to dry my self down and change into my grey slim fit briefs (because you cant wear boxers with denim short shorts) 20 black Denier tights, blue denim short shorts, Hi-top converse and my tight fitting black T-shirt. after that dried my soaked briefs in the towel rolled up the towel with my swimming briefs inside and packed all my swimming stuff into my bag and as i was heading out decided to get another drink as my energy levels were low, and the choice of drink was a bottle of lucozade sport lime from the vending machine in the reception. Walking down to the bus station, cold and slowly getting wet from the rain and while walking i finished the bottle in less than 5mins and felt a bit more energised after that. as i was walking down i felt the first urge to pee after finishing 500ml of lemon lime water in the morning, a couple of 500ml bottles of water through out the day, the 1LT bottle of ice cold water from swimming and the 500ml bottle of sports lime. Then just as i reached the bus stop i remembered i haven't went to the bathroom all day so no morning or mid day pee so that's not gonna help for sure. As i approached the bus terminal i looked up at the time table and to my horror the bus had been delayed by 20mins, thought to my self "great just what i need when i really need to pee. After 30mins of waiting, walking and pacing (refused to sit on those freezing and wet seats) the bus arrived and i was in luck and out of luck at the same time, because It's the last bus home it drives straight to my house with no stops as the bus shelters are right beside my house, only thing is it's an hour and 15 minute bus journey. if the bus stopped everywhere on the way home (as it normally dose) i would for sure started having an accident or started full on wetting my self half way to 3 quarters of the way home for sure. so in my head I'm thinking i should make it or mostly make it and I'd be fine with wet grey briefs and even wet tights, as long as no wet marks or patches start appearing on my blue short shorts I'm happy with that. Boarded the bus quite desperate and thankfully the bus took off instantly and i noticed as i sat down on the back of the bus that it was empty. 10mins into the bus journey i started to dry off and warm up (thanks to the little radiators) after standing in the freezing rain for 30mins and was helping me hold as well and the warmth was helping me relax rather than shivering and tensing up my whole body. 20 mins in and i had my first pure wave of desperation hit me and i didn't know what to do as it took me by surprise, felt all my mussels in my lower area relax, a nice hot wave followed by a shiver flood my entire body, slowly started spreading my legs further and further apart i just zoned out so hard. After about 10 seconds i snapped back realised i was 1 second away from an accident as i could feel a hot warmth travelling down my willy, so i very quickly shoved both hands into my blue denim short shorts and crossed my legs with my tights rubbing off each other. after 30 seconds of desperate grabbing and holding i felt it retract back inside me and i managed to downgrade from "on the verge of wetting my self to "extremely desperate". i calmed down, uncrossed my legs and took my hands away from my short shorts and went back to sitting normally with my right foot tapping away. 30mins in and another wave out of no where hit me but it was worse than last time, so i panicked again and just pressed and rubbed my thighs together and hoped for the best, but this was the start of the end. 20 seconds into the second wave hitting me i started to feel it moving It's way down with no slowing down and i panicked even more and that lead to me letting go for a couple of seconds by accident and i felt it rush down my willy and i slammed my thighs shut again held on for dear life. after a couple of minutes it subsided and i thought i was i the clear untill i twitched in my lower area and felt something move fast in my underwear. i quickly realised that some of the pee must of got trapped in my willy and the second i twitched it most likely shot out of me into my grey briefs. So most likely I've got a small wet line from the bottom of the bulge of my grey briefs to right between my legs. GREAT 50mins in I'm tapping with both feet, bobbing up and down, squirming, leaning on one but cheek to the other and crossing my legs and in allot of pain from being beyond desperate. 55mins in and my mussels slowly started to relax and i could feel it coming, could feel the warmth slowly moving It's way down past my V-point and down into my privet area and being in allot of pain and discomfort all i could think about is "It's okay if you let go" "adults wet them self time to time" " accidents happen" "just let go and soil yourself and you'll feel allot better" "no one will notice your soaked shorts and tights" . I didn't realise i was zoned out again while making up my mind if i was going to let go and just let the wetting happen and i froze when i felt a small warm stream running in my underwear and quickly realised I'M HAVE AN ACCIDENT!!! after about 5-7 seconds i managed to stop the flow and i knew at the least i have wet my underwear. I could feel the warmth between my legs and all the pee still trying to escape and me trying to fight it off with every ounce of strength i had left in me. I looked down to see if there was any outer damage and to my relief nothing and since there was no one on the bus i decided to quickly unzip my denim shorts and see the damage. Once i shimmied my shorts down to my knees i saw decent sized wet spot on my briefs and my tights and a tiny stream coming between and down my thighs and it rushing out of my willy again and all i could do was say under my breath was not again, not again. not again, no, no, no, no, no, No, NO !!!NO!!! after 10 seconds of peeing in just my underwear and tights as my blue denim short shorts have falling to my ankles during the second wetting i regained control by clamping my hands between my wet tights and underwear while still peeing and stopped my self from soaking myself anymore. I looked down and saw the wet patch reaching from my v-point to half way down between my tights and my entire bum. I very quickly wiped my hands on my tights pulled up my short shorts and moved one seat away from the window and there was a wet patch on the seat. i looked out of the window and saw that the bus was pulling into the bus station just out side my house and i thought "great I'm no more than 5 mins away from my house and the second the bus pulled up he just got up and left the bus so i stood up (with caution) and slowly started to get out of the bus and i decided to look down to inspect the damage and no wet marks on my blue denim short shorts but 2 long wet streaks down my inner of my thighs. Left the bus station without no one seeing me and proceeded to walk home with my bathroom being less than 5mins away. after 3mins of walking i finally saw my house just down at the end of the street and while looking up i felt something tickling the back of my left leg so had a wee quick look and noticed it was a small skinny wet patch slowly travelling down towards my converse and the front of my short shorts were becoming darker and darker. Walking home only 2mins away from my house and i can't hold on anymore and nothing but this small warm waterfall going between and down my legs, my shorts starting to absorb and darken and thinking to myself "oh no I'm having an accident in public" because my briefs, tights and denim short shorts are quite a tight fit I'm not able to full force wet myself due to the fact that everything down there is so tight down there so it's just a small constant stream slowly but surly an accident is in the making. I got into my front garden and i looked down, saw my short shorts getting wetter and wetter and my tight shining in the moon light from the wetness. i stopped and just fully relaxed let out a sigh of relief, spread my legs apart and i could feel the stream gather more speed as it splashed up and down the back of my grey underwear then make It's way down the sleeves of my now dark blue denim short shorts, riding down my see through tights from the front to the back.after it slowly came to an end i walked in and wen't straight to the washing machine to take off my clothes. I was on my knees with my heels up at my bum and i got the fright of my life when i heard "hey how are you?" it was my GF i forgot she was coming down today so i did everything to keep my lower half out of sight while talking to her (at this point is impossible) While talking to her i started to wet my self again as she scared me and she paused mid sentence and said "do you here that hissing noise?" and as she said that she looked down at me and saw the side of my see through tights were wet and asked " you okay?" i just replied with "yeah I'm fine" and at this point the hissing noise was getting louder and louder and she walked over to me looked down and saw my soaked clothes and them getting wetter and she gasped and asked what's happening? i just stood up faced her (while still wetting) and just said "sorry i having an accident" with a sad tone of voice and face While still having my last wetting for the night in the kitchen in front of my girl friend i was explaining that i got on the bus desperate, i had 2 accidents on the bus one with my shorts down while checking for internal damage i.e. my grey underwear and my see through tights, and i fully let go while walking home and once i reached the garden i froze and just let it happen and i came in here while still peeing a tiny bit and when you asked "hey, how are you?" you scared me and cause this accident in front of you. at this point is was pretty chocked up, stressed and very physically and mentally drained. i said I'm very sorry you had to see this (in a depressed voice) and as i started to walk away to get changed and to take a shower she quickly spun me around and said with the most friendly and cute little voice "it's okaaaayyyyyy" while giving me a massive hug. "go up and take a shower and change and come back down and cuddle up with me under my blanket till you feel better" so i did just that, had another lovely shower, got changed into just my galaxy leggings (had an accident in my galaxy leggings from a previous story of mine) went down stairs cuddled up with her and we both fell asleep on the connor sofa. Hope you've enjoyed this story as It's my longest, most detailed story I've ever written. please feel free to read through my other story's. Thank you

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 girl. 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 boy. 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 boys 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 girls 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.

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.

amy's nightmare(silly game i made) View File this is a silly little game i made. basically you run around a forest until "ghosts" (they look quite poor i'm not going to lie) scare the pee and poop out of you. you can focus the camera on amy's ass, crotch or face. when the fear meter reaches 50% amy wets herself, when it reaches 100% she soils herself and wets again. enjoy :) Submitter pp123 Submitted 02/23/2017 Category Female videos

My second story that took far too long to spitball ideas for. I created a 1800s-ish alternate universe and tried to keep it somewhat period-correct, but they're probably a ton of chronological errors (besides the diapers) that I'm too uninformed to notice. History majors beware. Without further adieu, your 11.5k word story “Pour me another!” A rich and golden brandy flowed from the old oak pitcher into the waiting pewter mug. Frothy foam rose up the interior and trickled down the old vessel’s sides and into the sides of the woman’s rough and calloused hands. Fifth drink of the night. But years of these excursions had made the liquor like water to her. She raised the grimy mug to her lips and took a long gulp, and sighed as she felt the alcohol envelop her body in a warm embrace. “Another, another.” The boom of Saga’s voice. When the spirits entered her crystal glass, its image bathed in soft candlelight danced across the battered oak table. Such sights were rare in the North, where the days were short and the winters cold, where men toiled to live without understanding or experiences of beauty. The ornate crystal cup, as with all beautiful things, was brought here in conquest. “For the virago queen!” Always dramatic, the tall, brash enchantress. “For queen and country!” Cheers erupted from across the room, voices of all walks booming in unison at the toast. The ruthless scourge of the continent’s battlefields, singing in a chorus content with alcohol. “Stingy as always, Freja? Can you afford nothing better than that slop?” The brandy-drinking woman suddenly felt Saga’s slender elbow dig into her shoulder. Freja was not amused. “Some of us don’t like to piss the beds of inns afterwards”. Saga’s face flushed with anger and embarrassment, much to Freja’s delight. “I’ve never! And you can’t speak much yourself! Do you think I’ve forgotten-” She was interrupted by the chilled draft suddenly entering the tavern, extinguishing the candles resting upon counter nearest to the door. All heads fell upon the small, wiry man standing in the door frame. The honors would have been delegated elsewhere to the newfangled telegraph—only in the North was this task bestowed upon an unfortunate messenger. He stammered to get the words out. “The q-q-queen has c-c-called f-for mobilization!” The effort left him gasping for air. From a leather satchel he fetched a letter on the finest parchment, and threw it upon the rough oak counter. Silence fell heavy over the bar. An indiscriminate cheer, a deep and throaty male voice, broke the spell. Reserved but drunken Freja was second to join him. Droplets of liquor splashed into the air and fell like rain, sacrifices of the umpteenth toast. The bartender rushed into the bag to fetch another keg, and bottles of the finest vodka. Untouched was the diplomacy of the parchment upon the counter. All that was important was the glory and wealth that war would bring to the down-on-its-luck town. All across the nation, a new tempo gripped the population. The beat and rhythm of an impeding war. “My liege, the finest of the Trondesburg armory”. In the young maiden’s arms laid a musket polished to a shimmer, enveloped in a shroud of ceremonial silk. She placed the firearm delicately upon the marble steps leading to the throne before retreating into a deep curtsy. Ulrika raised an eyebrow, unimpressed as always. A resolute spirit and absolute coldness to subject and foe alike had surrounded her reign since her ascension at only 23. Treachery and blood gave her the throne from the hands of her incompetent father – and she would employ those same methods to shake the nation from its hundred-year slumber. Gone to be were the days were young damsels with a smile and flourish could hawk subpar wares to the crown. Young Nora would have the Amazon queen to contend with. Ulrika arose from her throne in the ungainly fashion of a drunkard, and paced with enough deliberation to send her long silver hair flying messily behind her. Nora gulped at the woman’s intimidating figure towering over her. The queen’s scowling glare sent a hot trickle of fear into her cotton panties. Geriatric kings of the bygone era handled presentation weapons as treasured heirlooms; Ulrika in turn reviewed the musket in the rough nature of a common soldier. The gun in its mahogany-and-gold splendor was a bare-faced lie. Ulrika knew as well as her infantry that by the time such a prototype ever reached production it would have been turned into a cobbled-together tragedy of pine and rusty iron, without either the power or dependability of any adversary’s armaments. Worse still, the gun presented to her wasn’t even good. The design was outdated, the features barren, the machining imperfect, and the ergonomics unwieldy. An embarrassment to the nation. “Absolutely. Disgusting.” Nora had not expected a showering of praise from the stone-faced queen, but her disgust registered as a shock to someone accustomed with the cordial royal tradition. “I-I’m sorry?” It was more of an apology than a statement of disbelief. “It is you people who have resigned Scandia to this coffin of stagnation.” Venom poured forth from her lips. “Have you remained ignorant of the arms our enemies are brandishing against us? Our tributaries in the Southwest, those barbarians content with their stupidity, have presented to me a weapon far superior to the drivel you produce. Your incompetence shall doom us all to servitude and ignominy! Should you not present me something worthwhile before the summer, I shall have you all upon the gallows. At a wave of my hand!” The queen, Nora knew, would very well make good on her promise. She had run her bladder in fear as soon as the tirade started, made embarrassingly obvious by growing stain appeared on the pure white fabric of her dress. The clattering of the musket thrown onto the floor proved too much for the terrified brunette to handle. She collapsed upon her knees in teary-eyed terror, falling into a puddle of her own piss on the marble floor. A foul smell hung over the air as her bowels slackened, filling her panties and staining the rear of her starched dress. Ulrika recoiled in disgust at the spectacle before her. How weak and timid her subjects had become, withdrawn too long from the battles which granted them their idle lives. But there was no sense in wanton violence against one’s own subjects. “Take her outside the palace and let her go”. Nora sobbed at the queen’s mercy, having expected imminent execution for her sullying of the palace. She scampered away from the throne on all fours before breaking into a run, her face swollen and streaked with tears and her dress stained by her cowardice. “Affix your bayonets!” Mobilization in such a primitive land occurred at a snail’s pace, helped not by the layers of snow that blanketed what few railroads the nation had. In the interlude, derelict barracks would house the idle army and their time occupied by rote training. Freja grimaced at her roughly-hewn uniform that chafed and failed to keep out the cold. But whatever her grievances were, she would never have voiced them; Saga, however, had no such reservations. “How do they expect us to win a war, when they cannot afford even to clothe us! Should we fight next with our broomsticks?” “Brigadier! How dare you say such things about our great empire!” Saga glanced at her accuser to decide whether to bristle or to bay. It was Svea, the young recruit from the capital without a scar or callous; drunk on the high brass’s windy speeches while not knowing an iota about fighting in war. Saga’s annoyance at the woman’s mannerisms had been rising for days now, and now Freja could see it boiling over. “How I talk is not worth a damn! What matters is how I fight! You think yourself so grand, recruit. Then, spar with me!” Saga tossed to Svea a wooden staff from the pile of training equipment. The recruit did not back down. What a fool you are! Saga held her own staff at the ready, taunting Svea to strike first. She took the bait and swung clumsily. Without even blinking, Saga parried the blow with enough force sending Saga stumbling sideways. With her physical strength and years of experience, she utterly outclassed the young recruit. “Try again!” Svea obliged with indignation, only for her attempt to be struck down again. Again and again she approached Saga, failing with each attempt until she had exhausted herself from the effort. Saga’s mouth curled into a grin. “My turn.” Svea could not hope to block Saga’s swing with her fatigue, and only numbly lifted her arms to protect her face from the amazon’s wrath. But Saga had aimed for her stomach, and there the blow landed, eliciting from the recruit a yelp of pain. The staff carried with it only a fraction of Saga’s strength, for fear of hurting the girl, but it was more than enough to work from Svea her dignity. The recruit emptied herself into her clothing, giving Saga a full view of her pee drenching the front of her pants and the shit escaping noisily into her panties, before the small garment was filled allowing her mess to leak down her legs. Freja had to intervene now, and she rushed to the side of the teary-eyed recruit. “Go get yourself cleaned up. Don’t worry, these things happen to even the best when luck gets the better of us.” She then turned to Saga, as Svea hurried away in embarrassment. “How could you! I’ll personally ensure your punishment for this!” Saga was indignant. “When did you become so subservient to those old men’s orders? She was a private, she had no right to talk to me so!” Freja sighed. “You have no discipline. None at all!” She turned away and picked up her own falling-block Mossberg hunting rifle, bought with her own money and brought from home. A hunting weapon, for shooting elk and reindeer; better made and better designed than anything given to the soldiers. The quality of the gun was a spot of envy for Saga, who seemingly could never save up enough to buy even a bottle of akvavit. A habitual cursory inspection revealed nothing amiss with the weapon. Time to go. With the rifle over her shoulder, Freja strode into the cold. No sooner as the rays of the sun begun to peak over the snow-capped peaks, the order rang out across the regiments huddled in the valley. “Load the wagons! Our march will begin today!” Cheers erupted. The lethargy had ended. The last war had been disastrous for Scandia, but this time, Queen Ulrika had promised, only victory should befall the soldiers. Her Grand Army marched as one across the muddy fields of spring, through the frigid south of Scandia and into the impoverished lands of their tributaries. Where the citizens in their villages had previously cheered and hollered as the marching regiments passed, the disgruntled farmers here would only jeer and throw rotten fruit. And once they had crossed into the territory of the Livonians, the restless and disgruntled army faced the hurling of rocks and curses; in response they took from the villagers what the supply wagons did not hold. Queen Ulrika had commanded them to march eight hours each day; and trudge on they did, cutting through the Livonian countryside to meet their adversary at their weakest state. On their second week, the generals were granted their wish. The defensive lines of the Livonians were strong, Freja had been told told, but the speed of their arduous march had ensured that the enemy could not respond with their fullest strength. Scandia’s spies had reported of a dispersed detachment, spreading the defenders thin across the hills separating the army from the Livonian interior. The previous night had seen naive recruits glumly drinking down stiff akvavit, preparing their naive minds for the battle up ahead. But now morning had broken, and the final marches begun, each delivering a small component of the Grand Army toward their objectives and the guns of the enemy. As a red flare exploded at hung high above the fortress, gunfire erupted across the land. What could not be pillaged for the journey beyond this fight burned behind. The cavalry’s majestic steeds shot across the countryside, towards the stone of the defensive lines hastily constructed to slow the advance. Such a small fort could be no match for the heavy Scandian cannons, but the ponderous and heavy machines had yet to be brought to bear. Freja’s lungs burned and her heart pounded against her chest as she sprinted in the forest with her saboteurs. Each step took her further and further away from the safety provided by the rear guard. “Towards the left wall!” The contingent slung their rifles behind them and rushed towards their designated target. Screams were erupting; blood was already being shed in the fight. Smoke concealed the movements of the enemy behind the wall, and deafening explosions concealed their communication. Forty yards … thirty yards. Freja pawed her side for her hand-grenades. A cannon-shot from behind the fort, contained by the cacophony of the firefight, barely registered in her consciousness. It was followed by a deafening explosion and a shock that nearly threw her to her feet. She half-stumbled and half-ran into a ditch in the rolling ground as fine earth rained all around her. Her boot hit a rock and her boot punctured the ice she had not noticed. Frigid water at her feet sent her senses rushing back to her. With a twist of her body, she threw herself back-first into the gentle bank, hiding her body from the gunfire from the fort. While she scrambled for the rifle lying across her waist, her hand brushed the damp wetness of her pants. Only when she looked down at the growing stain at her crotch did she become aware that she was still wetting herself. She clenched her bladder with a curse and a prayer that her compatriots would not notice. The rest of the company had not fared much better in the onslaught. Saga had been closest to the detonation, which handily threw her tall and muscular frame to the ground as if she were a rag doll. Shards of the casing mixed with fine earth sprayed into the air and came down like rain, coating Saga’s body splayed out on the ground. All of her senses had been stunned by the explosion, in an instant, the cacophony of combat was drowned out by a ringing emanating from within her eardrums, and her sight stunted by flashes of blue, violet, and green. The explosion had disintegrated Saga’s usual remarkable hold over herself – her bladder had released soaking herself before she had even hit the ground, and her bowels had followed quickly filling the rear of her slacks with a solid mess. A second, more distant explosion abruptly shook her from the shock and allowed her to find her squad nestled in the relatively safety of a sunken creek. Saga threw her body sideways in a fast roll into the refuge, inadvertently squishing the mess contained in her bulging pants up against her. She purposefully fell directly into the thin layer of ice covering the creek and plunged into the freezing water, shivering as she allowed the rushing stream wash away as much of her accident as it could. “Behind the ramparts! Shoot back!” Freja grabbed her rifle and twisted into a prostate shooting position, in the process taping the soaked fabric of her slacks to her inner thighs. Her sheer mental focus did much to suppress the sensation as she peeked out over the small bank, finger on the trigger and eye locked into the sights. There lay the enemy – the lookout for the cannon peering over the ramparts of the fort, scanning the area for the invaders. He was a small, swarthy man who looked at the war-torn world from behind the sights of a rifle. His eyes locked on to Freja’s head; his quarry noticed his slow scan cease. Oh, you weren’t fast enough. The Scandian’s bullet was already slicing through the air in a fatally true trajectory. Center mass. Before the soldier even had a chance to fall to his knees, Freja was already on the move. Immediately behind her, Saga’s powerful strides mustered an imagine of dignity, despite being half-soaked in freezing water and with a mess squishing in her pants. The Amazons gripped their rifles tightly and threw themselves at the first wall of the first wall of the fort, a packed earth mound with spiked logs preventing the traverse of cavalry. Ten yards. The group dispersed. Freja peeled right with entire body pounded in the rhythm of battle. She barely stopped herself at the base of the wall, slicing her arm at a sharpened wooden point. The gunfire was slowing dying down and the screams were subsiding; the enemy was being overwhelmed. Time to go! She affixed the bayonet to her musket, and with a great leap hurled herself over the fortification and into the fray. Swirling smoke hung over the bloody ground, pouring from the tongues of flame that leapt across the fortification. The grenadiers had done their work. All around, blue-coated Scandian infantry were pushing themselves up over the fortifications and into the enemies’ arms. With a pulsating determination, Freja ran towards the small fort with her bayonet at the ready. Trenches lay in her way, the lifeless trenches where Scandian and Livonian blood laid the beds of corpses. While the recruits balked at the prospect at trampling over the fallen soldiers, Freja’s hardened mind from her previous campaigns gave no such reservation. Into the bloody trenches she went. She ran through the fallen defensive lines without meeting resistance, towards the screams and explosions of brutal melee ahead of her. Her heels dug into the earthen mound that compromised the final defensive layer. She fell forward to climb the rampart, and dug her bayonet into the ground to give some leverage. A flash of navy blue, an Livonian body falling over the wall to her left. A bloodcurdling scream – the shrill and desperate cry of a soldier – not a cadaver, a deserter! His arms still held a rifle, that instrument of death, and Freja realized that her own rifle stuck in the earth could provide no defense now. An absolute terror at the face of death washed over her and shot her arms in from of her face. Her bladder had all but emptied from her earlier accident, spilling only trickles of hot piss into her panties, but her previous bowel continence shattered helplessly in fear. The flailing, panicked enemy could not shoot, and drove his rifle into her stomach – Freja’s life was spared – but the impact only forced the mess into her panties. The stench of death covered the smell, not that Freja had even noticed soiling herself, preoccupied as her brain was with that simple thought. I am going to die. The man screamed in an unintelligible language and threw his rifle aside. What are you doing? He gesticulated wildly at Freja, movements exaggerated and twisted by the sheen of tears running from her eyes. His voice rose in panic. Screaming now, he grabbed Freja’s head and threw his elbow around her neck, and began to drag her through the mud in a choke hold. It dawned upon her. He wants to take me prisoner – he wants to spare his life. No sense in anything but complying. As the young deserter dragged her, she gave him little resistance, shifting her weight to lessen the pain of the constrictive arm around her neck. The infantry was moving forward, into the fort, crushing the resistance of the steadfast Livonians who refused to surrender in the face of rumors detailing the barbaric Scandians who gouged out the eyeballs of prisoners before shooting them in the knees. Freja and her captor crawled below the melee in the fort, out of view and out of attention of the soldiers concluding their scuffle. He suddenly stopped, and Freja felt the grip on her neck release. Seizing the opportunity, she bolted up from her lying position, facing the young Livonian’s back. He was on his knees, his arms raised in surrender. And then Freja saw, beyond the soldier’s outstretched arms, the jubilee of victory in the short battle – the Scandian cavalry, spurning their horses at full gallop towards the fortification’s flanks. So you have won your own battle – but there shall be nothing for you to do here. Will you accept this soldier’s mercy? Freja propped herself up on her elbows. Leading the cavalry was a figure clad in majestic blue and gold on the back of a beautiful white steed. An officer’s horse. No, it was too beautiful to be an officer’s horse. A royal horse! From under the figure’s tricot hat there flew a plume of silver hair – the same falling silver hair as was in the town’s treasured painting framed in the town hall. Queen Ulrika! This was the same woman who, clad in the opulent dresses of the monarch, gazed with a gentle smile from within the cheap bronze frame. But here she was the image of the Vikings of yore, the terror of weaklings, marshaling a nation behind her back with the long-forgotten Northern fighter’s vigor. With a crack of the reins, her beautiful white horse bolted ahead of the pack, and in one fluid motion adopted a shooting position and raised her rifle. Freja could hear the Livonian’s pleas for clemency turn into prayer. But the outcome was obvious. You’ll die in ignominy. The bullet tore through his uniform. His body slumped over in front of Freja, granting her a full view of Ulrika and the cavalry she led. The regiment, and indeed Ulrika herself, bore the marks of the battlefield’s ravages – wounded horses, battered clothing, and all covered in a layer of smoke and dust. Freja’s eyes locked with those of her Queen for a second before a realization of the state she was in forced her to look away. But Ulrika had greater concerns than a lone soldier. She pulled from her coat another bullet that she fed into her rifle, a bolt action representing the most advanced and expensive the nation had to offer. Freja watched in awe as Ulrika shot at unfathomable speed. At this range, she cannot miss. Each shot was followed by a fast swivel to another point above her. The battle continued to ring chaos all around, but Freja was completely mesmerized by the absolute power radiating from Ulrika. With her as our guide, soon all of the continent will be ours! “Iris – please carry up for me my personal belongings.” “Of course, madam”. The young raven-haired woman lifted two bound leather bags from the back of the wagon. She trailed her mistress, the fashionably dressed lady with hair tucked under a scarlet bonnet. Iris’s attire was quite plain in comparison, compromising only a simple black dress and white apron. An officer’s wife and servant. They entered the small inn together. The light oak floor creaked under their combined footsteps. Flickers of evening light shone through dusty windows and basked the lobby in luxurious warmth. A piano, long past its heyday, sat lonely and unused in a corner. Behind the counter there hung a trophy of an elk’s head, attached to a wooden plaque. Tallow candles for staving off the long winter nights burned in their brass holders hanging off the walls. A perfectly mundane inn by any other means – but this one was completely devoid of inhabitants. Iris and her mistress walked in an empty lobby. The servant-girl leaned hastened her step to walk with the taller lady, and leaned close to the woman’s ear. Her voice was barely a whisper. “Everything has been prepared, Your Majesty. Only we shall occupy the story”. “Good.” A distinctively unladylike voice, rough and harsh in tone. Both women climbed the narrow staircase to the guest residences. From her dress pocket, Iris produced a key and unlocked the first room on the right. She allowed the lady to enter before her. After placing the bags down on the hardwood ground, Iris curtly turned and locked the door behind her. “Oh, better than the camp”. Ulrika sighed as she removed her hat, letting her now matted silver hair fall down around her. “But I do abhor these ridiculous dresses”. She let the heavy crinoline fall off her shoulders and onto the white sheets of the bed. “Yes, Your Majesty. But of course, we cannot afford to be seen. You are far too important … “ “Of course! Do you take me as a fool?” Iris knew better than cower at the violent retort. “I understand. Do you wish I assist you with your attire?” “Fetch my undergarments and my gown please.” Iris looked away.“Erm … Will you require - “ Ulrika grimaced. “After such a battle … perhaps it would be unwise to refuse”. A tinge of red had appeared on her chiseled cheeks. “Shall we cleanse first, then, Your Majesty? The washroom is on the floor below us”. “Of course.” Iris walked to the leather bags on the ground. A brass clasp held the contents safe from prying eyes. From it, she produced fine silken dressing-gown and a towel of fine cotton. Tucked underneath layers of clothing was a large sack, drawn closed with string. With two fingers she reached inside and clasped soft plastic, producing from the compartment Ulrika’s personal secret. A diaper. She discreetly tucked the garment under her apron. “Right this way, your majesty.” Ulrika stood at the side of the metal washtub while Iris fetched bucket after bucket of water from the well. She removed the gown from her body and placed it at the chair beside her, leaving her wearing only the large tabbed diaper on her waist. Ulrika held her head up high, refusing to look down upon the infantile article, made more humiliating by the previous whiteness soaked and swollen yellow with urine. The back too was heavily stained by queen’s incontinence; the snug fit of the diaper coupled with the charge on horseback had the effect of pressing Ulrika’s mess up against her behind. The sodden bulk between her legs had been a source of irritation for hours now, and she was all to glad to have it removed. At least it has not leaked. The prospect had greatly disturbed her when she had wet the diaper for the second time on the ride through the countryside. She gritted her teeth with a burning shame and tried to avert the memory; but could not help but recall the absolute mortification when, as she sat desperate in the carriage, her completely filled bladder had failed her and she helplessly wet herself wrapped in the already soaked padding of the diaper. Those few seconds that she spent wondering whether the diaper would fail her too were absolute torture. But thankfully it seemed that she had been saved from the embarrassment of wetting the heavy crinoline dress. Iris had returned with a sponge in hand. She kept her head low and averted Ulrika’s eyes, trying her hardest to avoid leering at the queen. When Ulrika moved her hands to crossed in front of her chest, Iris reached behind her and grabbed at the diaper’s tabs, pulling off the four of them one by one. She cradled the bottom of the diaper by its plastic shell and lowered it between the queen’s muscled thighs. It seemed heavier than usual, and the padding seemed to be still a bit warm despite the battle having ended hours ago – perplexing Iris until she recalled Ulrika’s fidgeting in the carriage, and her constant refusals to visit the bathroom where she could not remove the diaper. With the diaper now off, a foul odor quickly rose from Ulrika’s mess, requiring Iris to quickly ball up the soiled garment and sponge off the shit spread over the queen’s behind. Moving forward, she cleaned off the urine at Ulrika’s crotch, and with a second sponge slowly scrubbed off the dirt that covered her powerfully built body. When all was done, Iris helped her mistress dry herself off with a towel. She had no mind to speak, but Ulrika still growled “I can do it myself” in a low voice. Iris obliged, looking away as Ulrika placed the heavy tabbed diaper on the chair and sat herself on top of it, and clumsily wrapped the absorbent garment around her crotch and behind. Although she occasionally grew slightly impatient at the queen’s propensity for pride, Iris far preferred this arrangement to the tirades that she used to endure whenever she had suggested to Ulrika that she wear diapers for the night. It had taken years and many soiled sheets to convince the prideful queen of her bedwetting problem that always emerged after she fought her battles. With her nighttime protection securely taped on, Ulrika commanded Iris to dress her in a silken nightgown and extinguish the candles in her room. Iris retreated to her own room for the night. Wagons stalled and horses bucked in the quagmire of mud and puddles making up the earth for as far as the eye could see. The cursed Bohemia, always lashed by the infernal rain. They had marched like this for days now, placing the entire expeditionary force in low spirits. But now, in the face of battle, there was not one in the throng who would think about anything other than the task before them. Hooves and footsteps clattered upon the stone bridge at the throat of the valley, spilling the Grand Army’s might towards the hills in the distance. Men and women prepared their arms and prepared their souls for the fight ahead. A muted roar in the distance drew closer with every footstep. There they were, the Livonians, calling their mighty cavalry and impeccable sharpshooters to arms. All knew that the fight today would be bloody, but none considered their own deaths. Blue Scandian banners flew high over the regiments and the battle-drums sounded. The army had passed the choke. Surely the Livonians could see the Army now from their hilltop regiments. Ulrika’s hussars cantered behind her white steed; the young and fearless warriors who the Virago Queen had once handpicked to replace the incompetent and deteriorating old guard. Scandia’s dragoons and cuirassiers, both of a similar crop, trailed the faster light cavalry. Assembled here was the cream of the Northern crop. Only one more hill to cross before they would be in the throes of Livonian fire. Ulrika stopped her horse and turned to her troops. Whatever her misgivings were about her subjects’ domestic affairs, on the battlefield she retained an absolute faith in the children of her homeland. “Soldiers! The cheers of a people smile upon you. Never have these lands seen an army of our caliber, of our spirit! We shall drive the invaders from our stolen lands. They will receive today their overdue fate. Do not fear death for our homeland! Upon those who conqueror, there shall be bestowed the praises of our nation, but for those who fall, they shall be granted their immortality in Valhalla! Soldiers, advance!” Cheers erupted in the crowd. “For the Queen! Glory to Scandia!” Virago Queen indeed! With the consort’s words embedded into the fabric of their souls, the Scandian cavalry launched themselves into the enemy’s fire. Mighty were they, under the auspices of their fearless Queen Ulrika, the specter that struck fears into the hearts of complacent kings and queens all over the continent. So much was known to Ulrika herself. She knew herself as face of her nation’s renaissance, a symbol of a beast awoken from a centuries-long slumber. And Ulrika’s own duty was to continue the place she had reserved in the heart of every Scandian. Here she was, then, leading the army of ten thousand into battle against the might of Livonia’s bulwark – wrapped in a thick diaper tucked underneath her fine blue tunic. Shamefully, despite years of training and combat, the queen had still found herself no less likely to piss and soil herself in the heat of battle than the cowardly princesses of years past. As bloodthirsty and feared as her reputation was, Ulrika was not without her weaknesses. Scandia’s lancers, on their fast, small horses, shot ahead of her with bayonets at bay. The roar of a charging army enveloped her and reached the heavens above. Above the killing grounds, Ulrika’s engineers had towed Trondesburg’s heavy cannons to their hilltop positions and brought them to bear against the fortified Livonian positions. Deafening roars shook the earth and sky, horses whinnied in protest and each soldier felt the teeth rattle in their skulls. Harbingers of death to only the Livonians, of course, but her entire body shook at the tremor and her bladder flinched in fear. She scowled as a jet of piss escaped her control and hot piss encompassed her crotch, before being soaked up by the thick padding. The lancers had moved into range of the sharpshooters. Shots began to ring out and cries of death began to punctuate the charge. The main wave of the Livonian reinforcements had arrived, and their infantry gathered on the hill fired and reloaded in their squares. Scandia’s muskets were poor but nevertheless lethal to the Livonian musketeers, who fell and died in their ranks. The mud on the ground was running red with the lancers’ and grenadiers’ blood. On the other side of the field, the infantry had regrouped time and time and again but failed to blunt the spearhead. The field widened before it met the Livonians’ fortified hill and the cavalry dispersed in turn. The hussars drew their falling-block rifles and Freja drew her bayoneted bolt-action, and spurred her horse to charge faster at the regrouping Livonians. In light of the ever-widening muddy field, Jan fell away from her left flank and Leif from her right, each to go and engage their own targets. Ulrika’s attention fell upon a collapsed Livonian infantry square, reeling from bombardment. She pulled back on her reins and raised her rifle, placing a reloading Livonian squarely in her sights. His shako, that tall, foolish adornment of officers, marked him for execution. You’ll die! Fire exploded out of the rifle. Ulrika heard the scream echo in her head. Time stood still for both murderer and victim as the Livonian reeled and toppled back. Then the blood, sanguine and bright despite the overcast sun, erupted from his chest and drenched his white uniform. More screams now, his comrades, lost in their panic, immobilized and easy targets. Pull the bolt back, chamber the round. She adjusted her sights to aim at a cowering woman attending to the fallen officer, and shot again; the bullet curved through the air, entered the small frame, and exited, and blood again ran down the hills. Yet the woman had not fallen, no, she was reaching down for a fallen rifle now. Have I missed? Another round, another shot, the spilled blood shot high and coated the navy blue-clad regiment. The woman was aiming her rifle now. No! Impossible! Adrenaline was shooting through her entire body now, pumped by hear heart pounding with the realization that she had utterly lost control of the situation. The queen usually did not notice her accidents, but this time Ulrika suddenly found that she was fully cognizant of her bladder emptying in white-knuckled terror, and she clenched down with all her might, but try as she might she found herself completely unable to stem the torrent of hot urine drenching the padding warming between her thighs. The crack of a rifle grabbed her focus away from herself, and she pulled the reins sharply on her horse; the steed whinnied and bucked, pulling her sharply down and to the right, away from the Livonian guns, away, away. An animal screamed a dying scream, full of agony and sorrow. Ulrika was still falling, falling down and to the right, and she suddenly noticed that her hands were coated in blood. My blood? The impact into the ground was softened by the mud, that forgiving earth watered with the lives of thousand of brave soldiers. Her horse was dead, the majestic white mane dyed red by an Livonian bullet. Ulrika tore open her eyes. I have to move! But her body lay still and silent, trapped in the bloodied mud, the mud that wrapped around her legs and stomach. My rifle! She forcibly lifted her head with her arms and gazed around, at the wide and infinite field; Jan and Leif were swallowed by the horizon. Her strength was gone now, sapped by the earth, and a wave of dread crashed over her soul; she looked up and saw her own self mirrored in an Livonian’s bayonet. White-hot fear and pain melded into one unbearable burning that tore her chest apart from the inside. Mere drops of urine fell from her emptied bladder into the soaked padding, but her bowels completely relaxed in terror, voiding a warm mush into the seat of her diaper. The mess pressed against her butt, and felt warm against her thighs as it escaped the diaper’s plastic cuffs - but Ulrika’s failed to notice, her senses cast fully upon the bayonet impaled in her breast. The soldier was falling back now, as if he were melting away, that face of unadulterated rage melting and melting until Ulrika could no longer see the whites of his eyes, recessed as they were into his skull. The hill was close and gigantic, the officer’s regiment was close and gigantic, and they stretched their arms out to her, arms growing longer and longer as if those of wraiths. The closer they drew, the more the humanity was melting away; their eyes disappeared and from their backs sprouted blackened and tarred wings. Their uniforms had been absorbed into their sallow bodies, and the fingers elongated and sharpened until they became images of the bayonet lodged deep in Ulrika’s heart. She could not now question her humanity or her mortality, for all that her mind could command her to do was throw her head back and scream from the darkest crevices of her soul, emerging from her mouth as a relinquishment of the last shreds of her being. The queen’s guttural cry of death spilled, like a black tar, over the fields of blood in the apocalyptic world, and the demons were drawn like moths to a flame to feed on her lifeless body. Ulrika’s eyes snapped open in the wave of consciousness crashing over her. She was drawing breath in great gasps, compelled by her burning lungs. Her hand scrambled to make sense of the situation. A cold sweat had leached into her nightgown and the white sheets. The battlefield was gone, replaced by an unfamiliar but calming room, and her chest bore no grievous wound. It had all been a nightmare. Her gasps had stopped now, and she let out a long sigh, imaging to herself that the dream was expunged from her body with the breath. But her exuberation was cut short when her roaming hand reached the front of her diaper and felt the warm squish of sodden padding. It happened often, but the proud queen could not help but be humiliated at having wet herself during the night. Sitting up into her own mess confirmed what she dearly wanted to deny but all but already knew. Forcing herself off the bed revealed to Ulrika her soiled diaper’s mass, the image of which she covered quickly with her nightgown. Trying her best to contort her face into something of grace and poise, she opened her door and walked into Iris’ room. “I ask of you to assist with … cleansing myself for the morning”. Her growl dripped with indignation. “Of course, Your Majesty”. Iris had known this would happen. Onwards the Scandians marched, trouncing the scattered defense of the Livonians and routing the under equipped and unprepared Gothian army. Their disputed territorial boundary now firmly restored, Ulrika led the expedition on a campaign of revenge against the coalition forces that had shattered the pride and absorbed the vassals of the empire a hundred years ago. Behind the Scandians trailed a path of conquest, of newly reformed duchies with ousted local dukes replaced by governors friendly to Scandia’s southern interests. So abundant were their spoils that the many blue-clad regiments had swapped their standard-issue arms for the superior Teutonic designs, out of practicality if nothing when the depots overflowed with more Gothian-made rounds than they had Scandian ammunition. The Grand Army ate and drank like Scandian nobility and dreaded the day they would finally have to give up beef and beer for their homeland’s staple of salted fish. News of the military’s successes had reached Scandia and sent the entire kingdom into a fervor, and every day men and women sang the praises of their great Queen Ulrika. But they could not act with impunity forever without facing opposition. Across the continent governments had marshaled their troops in preparation for a decisive battle against the Northern scourge. The Teutonic coalition’s victory over the Rûm Sultanate granted them the coveted Eastern trade routes and allowed their much-maligned army to requisition and reform into a threat eclipsing anything they had previously fielded. Meanwhile, Ulrika had saw the Scandian supply lines become more and more stretched and the relative strength of the expedition fall in turn. Her own safety too could not be fully secured, for the fame she had garnered in battle would surely draw assassins; in response she had begun keeping her location a closely guarded secret at all times. And winter was soon approaching. It could very well be time to withdraw. Intermittent snow had slowed the steady march of the heavy Scandian units, scattering the army across the foothills of the imposing snow-capped Visigoth peaks. Where their campaign had earlier took them to lush and green hills that rolled gently in the wind, these hills were sparse and rocky, as inhospitable as the peaks towering above them. As the year waned, the nights were growing longer and colder. Small fires burned all around the camp to provide the sleeping troops some iota of respite, troops which Freja regarded with a burning envy as she paced around the camp staving off the creeping fatigue. The fires had another purpose – in the pitch blackness of the starless night, they were the only way the night guard could navigate. Freja’s eyelid grew heavy and she pressed the back her hand into the cold steel of her rifle to jostle herself awake. For all the looting her compatriots had done, she held no weapon in higher regard than her reliable hunting rifle. What a shame that I have not used it for an eternity. Every night, they waited for an enemy that was too afraid to come, to weak to fight, and too stupid to find them. The flap of a birds’ wing startled Freja away from her musings. A thin layer of powdery snow fell from the top of a pine tree and met the slush on the ground. She sighed and unrolled her finger from the rifle’s trigger. Perhaps she had grown complacent in the time she had not seen combat. It was hunting season back in Scandia – the perfect time to perfect one’s aim and reflex, and yet here she was, wasting the time reveling in the excesses of a land where she was an unwelcome guest. Svea burst out of the brush. “Brigadier. I saw a massed movement to our southeast. May I suggest that we investigate?” “They should likely be bandits. We are more than capable of addressing them”. Years of widespread decline under imperial subordination and a widely incompetent provincial government had made these lands almost anarchic. Bands of rogues roamed the mountains at night and struck their occasional raids against civilians and the Gothian military alike, and now their most valuable target would be the encamped Grand Army. But though they were fearless in combat, the roaming bands were usually driven back by the Scandians’ superior training and equipment. The more you fight us, the more we bring justice to this lawless land. “Then, I shall call upon the rest of the guard for action.” “It could be useful, yes.” Freja untied a brown paint horse from its post. She had never been trained as cavalry, but her seniority required that she be mounted to lead the night guard. And while she was more in her element on foot, she was more than capable of shooting and grappling on horseback. As Svea went around the camp collecting the rest of the guards, Freja affixed a bayonet to her rifle. “Ready.” “Affix your bayonets. March!” Svea trailed closely behind Freja, bayoneted Livonian rifle in hand. Out of all the recruits from southern Scandia’s barracks, she had turned out the best of all. Her small stature and youth belied a fighting spirit easily comparable to that of the old guard, and her reflex and survival sense were second to none. Having fought alongside her for the entire campaign, Freja had developed a close-knit soldiers’ camaraderie with the unorthodox soldier. Even haughty Saga had learned to respect her. Under the light of a kerosene lantern, the group pushed into the ridges of the rocky hills. Each soldier held their rifle close with the expectation of combat, but no real fear of measurable retaliation. They crested the ridge that Svea had marked and assumed, as per their training, a hollow square. Fingers curled around brass triggers, waiting for the movement that would signal their volley. Movement sounded in a bush. Two hastier guards discharged their muskets, while Freja held her fire with the expectation that the sound was from a beast and not a bandit. Groans and curses sounding from the bush, however, confirmed that the shots had found a human mark, and Freja aimed at the movement and prepared to fire. Her convictions were suddenly interrupted by the foreign shout that sounded from her left, a voice that was not the crude drawl of an outlaw. Clear and commanding, full of presentation and order – an officer! Svea reiterated Freja’s conclusion. “The Gothian army! Ambush!” Upon Svea’s shout, from seemingly behind every rock emerged a rifle-wielding soldier. The Scandians’ hollow square collapsed instantly as they ran for cover. Carl, carrying the gas-lantern, was all too easy a target for the hidden gunmen and was struck in the chest by several bullets; the lantern dropped and rolled down the side of the gravelly hill. Tenacious as she was, Svea was still young and inexperienced soldier; and faced with the claustrophobia of being surrounded by the vengeful Gothians her bladder and bowels released in wide-eyed terror. Freja, beating a fighting retreat on her horseback, could see the torrent of pee soak through Svea’s panties and pants streaming from the crux of her thighs, and as Svea ran past her a drifting odor made obvious the mess that she had spilled into her undergarments. At the display, the mounted Freja could not help but notice a slight twinge in her own bladder, filled from the copious coffee that she had drank in the night. She cursed herself for not having relieved herself sooner. With all pretense of secrecy in their assault lost, the pursuing Gothians scrambled and yelled, rallying each other to pursue the retreating Scandian contingent. But the dark had disoriented them, compounded by the difficult terrain alien to them as it was to Freja’s guards, and they rushed around wildly in attempts to regroup. In the time that the discombobulated ambush stumbled and bumped into each other in the dark, the Scandians retreated further and assumed defensive positions. The camp was stirring now, the soldiers awakening and preparing for battle, readying their positions to create an impregnable citadel of infantry supported by a handful cuirassiers. A flare shot high into the dark night sky and exploded against the pure black backdrop. Lookouts from all across the foothills scrambled to ready Scandian cavalry. The Gothians bore down upon the flare like moths to a flame, their ranks and discipline restored quickly by the signal of their target. Over the hill the regiment went, running with bayonets out and behind them the sharpshooters in ordered positions shooting at anything that moved. The Scanians were dug in well, and their shots rang true in striking down anybody who dared rush down the cleared path to the camp. Yet for each enemy struck down by a bullet, there seemed to rise from behind ten more to take his place; and as the minutes drug on the Scanians could hear the enemy’s yells in the night grow louder and more numerous. This was not a mere scouting party, Freja knew. This was a premeditated assault. There were more and more of them, more and more bayonets and rifles and hand-grenades and sabers, and soon they would be too much for even the Scandians to handle. She crouched behind a large boulder, and counted the rounds she still held. They could not win this war of attrition. Please let the cavalry come relieve us, and please let their arrival be swift! An eruption of gunfire and muted shouts in the distance startled the sleeping queen awake. No dreams had haunted her sleep, and nothing had confused her from finding herself exactly where she expected to awake. The tent was pitch-black in the depth of the night. Ulrika propped herself up on the small mattress by her hands and her thick diaper crinkled with the motion. She put one hand to the front of the padding – it seemed dry. Footsteps sounded outside prompting her to quickly drew her hand away and cover the humiliating diaper with her nightgown. The figure burst into the tent with a calm grace. It was Iris. She leaned down close to Ulrika’s ear, and spoke in a hushed whisper. “Your Majesty, we are under attack by the Gothians. Our cavalry shall arrive in due time. The soldiers of our regiments are holding strong against their attacks. There is nothing to worry about. You may return to sleep if you so wish”. She knew that she could not convince Ulrika. “I shall fight alongside them.” The servant gritted her teeth. “Your Majesty, I beg of you please regard your position. You have not your horse, and you must not incite them unnecessarily to strike against our soldiers. We cannot be sure of their strength yet. I implore, let them not rally around collecting the ultimate Scandian trophy.” Ulrika hated the pleading but could oppose the sense. “No alternative, then. You shall help me with my attire.” Iris moved over to Ulrika’s leather bags. There lay inside a gently folded lilac pelisse and matching bonnet, in the fashion of the Gothian vassals caught between the Gallic and Germanic styles. The servant unfolded the dress and let the long skirt fall down to her knees, and drew from the bag the queen’s plain chemise undergarment. Ulrika removed her nightgown and was left wearing only her thick diaper, as dry and clean as when she had put it on herself. Iris quickly draped the white silk shift over Ulrika’s broad frame before the queen’s revealing state would boil into anger. Next came the starched pelisse, long enough to fall to the queen’s knees, followed by tying up the queen’s long silvery hair into a fashionable bun underneath her bonnet. An application of rogue and whitening powder had completed the transformation. Queen Ulrika the First of Scania had never entered this camp – only Alisa, Duchess of Selonia, envoy of the Kingdom of Courland. She could not been seen with her rifle, of course, but hidden in the shawls of her dress was an ivory-handled revolver, dispensing rounds that could incapacitate ten men and a horse. “Shall we bid a retreat, then, Your Majesty?” Ulrika’s mouth curled into a smile. “No. I wish to see the spectacle.” That order was final. Iris frowned imperceptibly. “Very well then.” The creeping dread of having to stand in battle made her bladder seem suddenly quite full, but excusing herself to the call of nature in the face of diapered Queen Ulrika was out of the question. She prayed that the fight would end soon. Freja propped the barrel of her rifle against the hard granite and lifted her head above its sights, scanning the world for the tiniest hint of movement. She slowed her breathing. When the cover night made movement deadly, staying concealed was the only thing which could grant her life. From over a hill a flash of navy blue was accompanied by the dislodging of stones. What a fool the Gothian was. She pivoted her rifle on its stand, took quick aim, and pulled the trigger with the shadowy figure in her sights. The enemy was too slow to react and too slow to aim, and without a shot erupting from his musket fell back into the night. Freja’s retreat took the form of a ground-hugging roll away from the retaliatory fire; although bullets dug into the ground all around her she was safe in a pocket of cover. Her next roost was within a cratered hole in the ground, next to a small patch of brush. Scandian gunfire and Gothian screams were sounding all around them; and the Gothians’ continuous withering volleys and lobbed grenades were taking their toll on the Scandian troops. Nearer and nearer the Gothians drew before they were invariably cut down by musket-balls and bullets. Now there came pair of grenadiers, charging and firing indiscriminately into the night, lobbing their hand-grenades and screaming like furies as they approached the defenders’ positions. There was no need to move now, for the chaos and dark had eliminated precision from the Gothian doctrine. They were all too easy to cut down at this range. But Freja’s ammunition was depleting fast against the fast-encroaching waves of the enemy. Seven shots, six … five … I’ll use them well! Shouts drew near, most prominent of all the staccato barks reverberating with authority. That’s the officer. Freja’s mind fell into a state of absolute intensity, melting away the rest of the world around her. Her ears listened only for her quarry’s voice, and her eyes saw only down the barrel of her rifle, waiting for the Prussian shako that would mark a man for death. Shots rang from behind the peak and explosions in front of her, removing not an ounce of her concentration. Three seconds. Soldiers crested the kill and fell to her Scandian bullets. Freja held her fire. Two seconds. Markus screamed in agony. One second. The officer’s hat appeared over the crest. At his flanks were two Gothian grenadiers. They charged with weapons brandished and rallying cries. Freja aimed her shot. The hammer fell, and the powder lit. Recoil shot the rifle into her shoulder. The bullet was still spiraling in the barrel when the Gothian grenade detonated to her left. Fixated as she was upon her shot, the explosion of the charge consumed her consciousness and struck deep into her soul. She staggered back into a collapse; and continued her flight on all fours with her eyes squeezed shut. Her full bladder came spilling out in an instant, drenching the front of her pants with flood of pale yellow urine. With seemingly all the focus she could muster in her incapacitated state, Freja turned herself upon her elbows and knees, and began crawling towards the camp with her pee still pouring through her clothes and onto the ground in a shameful stream. The sounds of the advancing Gothians behinds her hastened her pace but kept her pinned to the ground; standing up into the firefight would be suicide. Her rifle was gone, her bullets depleted. She felt no pain, but when she brought her hand to her side it came back coated with blood. Freja could fight no longer. When her hands and elbows had been bruised and cut by the sharp gravel, Freja forced hope her eyes and allowed her composure to slowly return. She found herself on the slope of the small hill, below the clashing soldiers. Her side was radiating with pain, enough to make her wince. And she had pissed her pants. A quick glance showed her a torn uniform and dripping blood from her abdomen, seeping slowly from where her flesh had been punctured by the explosion. An approaching roar drew her attention away, and she raised her head; her eyes were greeted by the image of hundreds of charging cavalry with weapons drawn and the Scandian flag flying steadily in their wake. Salvation had arrived. Above her, in the battle on the ridge, the shouts intensified. The dark of the night was broken by the fire spat from the barrels of the mounted riflemen. Screams of agony began to echo all around the foothills, and closer and closer the horsemen of Gothian demise rode. Now fire was raining down into the cavalry’s ranks. A saber-brandishing dragoon uttered a shout of pain and was thrown off the back of his horse, and his neck snapped loudly as it hit the ground. His horse, devoid of rider, continued its charge before encountering the growing chaos of the battlefield, and it peeled away from the fray cantering towards where Freja lay. It was all the signal she needed to stride up and pull at its reins, placating it enough for her to mount its muscular back and force it back towards her comrades, stopping only along the way to retrieve the killed dragoons’ dropped saber and pistol still strapped to his waist. Her pain had disappeared. She would fight on. Ulrika had watched the engagement from afar, alone in the camp deserted by its soldiers gone to defend their materiel. Iris stood by her side but did not make her presence known, afraid of disturbing the queen enraptured in the heat of battle. As with her soldiers, she had been surprised at the length of the engagement, but held an unwavering trust in the resilience of her small contingent as it fought off man after man of the larger Gothian force. It was a shame, really, to be sat in the back as an observer instead of throwing herself in the fray, but it was certainly better than escaping at the first sign of violence. At any rate, all the horses in the camp were already occupied in the fight. The queen had been first to see her cavalry divisions advance into the enemy flank. At that point, the assaulting divisions’ defeat was nothing short of certain. Her dragoons and cuirassiers gained an immediate upper hand over their scattered enemy and cut down resistance like barley in the harvest. In the fire-illuminated battlefield, Ulrika could witness the rear guard of the invaders fleeing from their duty, leaving their encircled comrades to die at the hands of vastly superior Scandian troops. How repulsive the enemy was. But the reformed coalition forces was not to be defeated so easily. The surrounded troops had seemingly assumed the courage their contemporaries had callously left behind. Coldness had crept into their cries, coalescing into furious oaths; together they mounted a desperate breakout over the entrenched Scandian infantry guarding the route to the camp. Ulrika watched with an impeding dread as soldiers armed with the resolve of glorious sacrifice shot and hacked their way deeper and deeper into the defensive lines, fighting with their knives after their bullets ran dry, and fighting with their fists when their knives broke. They tramped over corpses of their own in their wild fight and flight away from the approaching cavalry. A bullet missed its target and flew into the camp behind, striking a lit lantern which burst with a loud shattering of glass. Ulrika recoiled at the violent explosion, and a stream of urine soaked into the diaper’s thick padding before she could bring her quivering bladder under control. Young, naive Iris had been much worse for wear – the shock extracted from her a scream of raw terror and overwhelmed her potty training. The pee she had been so desperately holding back gushed out into her cotton panties and into the folds of her pleated skirt. Iris’ s humiliation was furthered by her bowels voiding noisily into her panties, filling the small garment and leaving the sobbing servant thoroughly wishing she had on one of her mistress’s diapers. Ulrika grabbed the petrified servant by her neck, taking some care to avoid contact with her heavily soiled skirt, and pulled them both into a ditch at the side of the tent. Iris was crying profusely, and she pulled the young woman’s face into her chest to silence the her. Gothian shouts were coming terrifying close now. In her trapped and defenseless position, Ulrika felt almost as terrified as Iris did. Each ringing gunshot and each resounding explosion brought into her padding another fearful trickle of urine, despite the hand Ulrika had jammed tightly into her crotch in a futile attempt to stem her bladder. They had grown more and more desperate, fighting for longer and more furiously through their dying breaths, breaking in closer and closer to the camp. Please, how much longer, how many more? She looked up. A soldier, clad in the Gothian grey, twisted his pockmarked face and found Ulrika’s eyes in the ditch. A final kill before his own death. The soldier charged at his target. His cry echoed in the heavens and drowned out all of the queen’s consciousness. All that she could make out of him in the dark was the glint of a bayonet. Those eyes – that cry – he was the one who would killed her, who had killed her. It was the sum of all her fears, the rawest of all terrors that she could experience. What was left of her quivering bladder poured into her already soaked padding. Her lying position allowed a trickle of urine to escape the sodden padding and leak onto her thighs, dampening the fabric of her skirt. The rear of the diaper strained and bulged as Ulrika also messed herself, soiling the back of her ass with her own shit. So consumed was she in her own terror than she could not even feel her own infantile act; all the fallen queen could do now was squeeze her eyes shut and wait for her life to end. Hooves clattered near. A gunshot. The Gothian oaths fell silent. Ulrika forced her eyes open and looked up. A still black horse, darker than the night, towered serenly over her. A soldier mounted atop held a smoking pistol in her hand. The queen scrambled to her palms. A stern blonde, wearing a blue uniform. Scandian. Tears of rapture and relief flowed from her eyes and a quaking sob, so uncharacteristic of the Virago Queen, escaped her chest. She buried her face in her palms. Who is this noblewoman, and why has she found herself within our battle? Ulrika dismounted her horse and extended a hand to the distraught lady on the ground. “Brigadier Freja Lindgren, of the Scandian Grand Army. Do not distress, madam, for we have completed their defeat of the enemy. There shall be no more battle tonight. May I ask who you are?” I must not allow myself to be known. Ulrika opened her mouth to speak in the pruned and gentile voice her family tried to beat into her, that voice she had despised since she was a princess. It emerged from her choked in sobs and tears. “I- I am Duchess Selonia of Courland … envoy to the Scandian c- crown. I had been camped with you for the night …”. That was enough for Freja. “Worry not, madam, please trust in the Scandian army to defend your continued safety.” Ulrika accepted Freja’s extended hand, only for her left leg to be wracked by a shot of pain. It was not her most grievous wound, but assuming the manner of Selonia meant feigning a collapse down to her knees. Freja scrambled down on her knees. The noblewoman’s fine pelisse was covered in blood. And Freja noticed for the first time, lying in the ditch with the noblewoman, her fainted servant. “Madam, you have been hurt! I can attend to you… Svea! Please look after this lady’s servant, upon the ground!” This was bad. “Oh … I do not believe it to be serious …”. But how could she refuse in this costume? Freja would not budge. “Please, it is of no trouble to me. Lend me your arm, I can help you to a bed.” Ulrika was trapped. “I … I wish only to be attended to by a physician.” “Madam, there are no physicians here. I am the only one who may be of help to you. Let me prove to you the great skils Her Majesty Queen Ulrika has bestowed upon us.” Oh, what could be done? Freja had already draped Ulrika across her shoulder, leading her into an unfamiliar tent. With the gentle deliberation to inflicting further pain, she set Courland’s envoy upon the bed. Her satchel revealed a bottle of rationed akvavit – the standard-issue drink of soldiers drowning their hesitation before entering battle. She had no desire for the poor northern liquor in the land of bountiful schnapps and vodka. But the biting spirit could be of some use here. “Madam, some alcohol for your pain, perhaps?” Freja held up the bottle of akvavit. Ulrika hated akvavit as much as Freja did. But her disguise could not permit a refusal. “Oh, it shall do nicely for me”. Freja fed the duchess her anesthetic in a silver spoon. With the light of a lantern shining down upon Selonia, she could better examine the wounds her patient had received. Her fine lilac dress was stained with blood close at her thigh. To bandage Selonia’s would, she would have to remove her layers of dress. Freja blushed at the prospect. “Madam, I, ah … I may not be able to treat you with your full dress.” Ulrika bit her tongue. “It is fine, so long as you may attend to me better.” The fine Courish coat came apart at the front, and a laced and tassled skirt underneath removed clumsily at the shoulders. The duchess’s fine white chemise revealed a sanguine stain and tear where her flesh had ostensibly been cut. Freja gulped. In her best effort to preserve the envoy’s modesty, she opted to pull the chemise up from the hem instead of removing it from Selonia’s shoulders. Her left leg was streaked with fresh blood, as she had expected. With a small towel, Freja wiped away the sanguine stains on the envoy’s thigh. Much to her relief, no new blood spilled forth; the wound would not be of great concern to the envoy’s life and immediate health. Freja tore a bandage for her patient. She lifted the dress further to better address the wound – and saw the duchess’s undergarment that she wore at her crotch. What was this strange piece of Courish dress? She looked closer at the curious white underwear, and noticed the yellow stain that covered the front. A stain – from the duchess’s own urine. It was a diaper, that which infants wore. Freja tore her eyes away and suddenly found herself awash with mortification. Ulrika could not bear the humiliation. Her face, flushed completely red, turned as far away from her soldier’s gaze as possible. The brigadier applied the bandage gently and firmly to her wound without a word, and when done, returned the chemise over her diaper as if she had seen nothing. The silence continued to hang as Freja retrieved the fine dresses and placed them at Ulrika’s bedside. She turned curtly to leave, but froze and let her voice break the silence. “I’m sorry – ach, well I, if I may speak to you frankly …” The brigadier retried the bedside lantern and held it at her waist. “Please do not think too badly of me … but do not consider yourself alone in your … accident …” Ulrika could only just bear to look up. The light revealed the wet stain at the crotch of Freja’s pants. The soldier who had saved her life had wet herself in the fight. Had she been Ulrika, she would have chided Freja for her cowardice – she had no qualms with disciplining soldiers even as her own dry clothes belied a very soiled diaper. But she had obviously come across as much worse than her grenadier tonight; and surely Freja could see that the hot embarrassment had still not faded from her face. She sighed. “Ah… then, Brigadier, we shall be the keepers of each others’ secrets.”

"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 shortness, 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 17. He is 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

Has anyone played the games Outlast, Outlast Whistleblower, or Outlast II? I feel like, especially for fans of male omo like myself, they have a lot of potential. I can just imagine Miles Upshur (one of the player characters) getting desperate in the middle of his investigation and realizing too late that there’s no where to go as he constantly has to run/hide from danger. Fear wetting could be a HUGE potential for any of the games too, especially if the characters were already desperate and then come face-to-face with the variant thy had been running from! This is just an idea, but if anyone else likes the sound of it or is interested in talking more, please please comment or even message me, I love these games so much.

Long time lurker and first time poster. Here's a story that I originally wanted in a fantasy universe but ended up in some sort of sci-fi one instead :P. Maybe there will be a part 2? ____________________________________________________________________________________________ The cold winds of winter glided gently across the streets. By tomorrow’s morning, the dilapidated roads would be filled with pedestrians, but now, deep in the night, one only had flickering streetlights and roaches for company. From the sides of the litter-lined streets, there rose several monoliths of apartment buildings and industrial facilities. Structures evidently designed solely for efficiency in a state with an insatiable thirst for inaccessible raw resources. The night sky was made starless by the brightly lit oasis of life beyond the hills that pulsated as a distant rainbow. Not that it mattered to the the drab concrete and corrugated aluminum of the slums, perpetually engulfed in turmoil. The glory and grandeur of the inner city meant nothing to those here who could never hope to experience it; nothing save for a world of vast riches to exploit for the cunning few. It was in this small population of connivers which Nova had found herself. She fit the role of a bandit, or a bounty hunter. Her consistent success rested on the nature of what she stole - not lives, but information. It paid well, it made sure your targets would say nothing, and you could always come back for more. Tonight, in a small and spartan apartment room in a long-abandoned building, she was again ready to strike into the heart of the City, an attack on the pinnacle of their society. Unlike her male comrades, her attacks were executed with surgical precision. This one would be no different. Opening a battered case on the hard ground, she retrieved two small combat knives, sharpened to a razor edge. As she rose up she grabbed a folding submachine gun from its place on the wall. A hard childhood on the streets gave her aptitude in combat, and her clothes concealed a muscled yet lithe and agile build. She could out-duel almost anyone in close quarters even without needing the superior weapons she now fielded. In the legends which sporadically circulated the outlaws of the slums, she was a fearless warrior, a shadow perpetually taunting the giant which was the City. Cradling the SMG, Nova walked over to her bed, the only piece of furniture in a cube of cold and cracking concrete. Despite the lack of doors and windows in the room, the building’s size and complexity as well as the cover of the night allowed for a modicum of privacy. From under the bed she retrieved her light body armor, stolen from the City arsenals. Silently she stripped herself of her civilian clothes; in the process, she slipped her panties down her ankles and reached again under her bed, in a nook between the mattress and the frame hidden from plain sight. A slight red tinge appeared on Nova’s chiseled cheeks as she retrieved a plain white diaper from the bed and slowly hiked the ruffled elastic up her chiseled thighs. As much as she hated wearing them, it was an invaluable asset for maintaining composure in combat and intimidating her targets. As Nova reached for a spare, she noticed with a frown that the bag was almost empty. Stuffing the one remaining diaper into her bag, she noted to herself to buy more upon return. The brunette walked by herself down a path she knew well, through trash-filled back alleys and crumbling, cracked asphalt as the concrete behemoths of the urban jungle made its way into the shoddier makeshift shelters of the slums. Here, there was none of the tenuous order found in the ghettos, and all around there was the cacophony of muffled intoxicated yelling. Many in her line of work had hailed from regions like this or worse, but to Nova the entire area felt uncomfortable and hostile, a mental remnant conditioned into her by her earlier life. As she walked past a row of sheet metal homes, she momentarily caught sight of a glint off of a knife reflecting off a fire streaming from a barrel - before her brain could process the flash of light, Nova’s tensed body was rocked by a bloodcurdling scream and a howl of pain which pierced the heavens. Balking in fear, Nova stumbled a step, and a brief trickle of hot urine escaped her quivering bladder. As she regained her composure, she scowled as she felt the warm moistness of the absorbed urine on the soft surface of the pull-up. Adding to her apprehension was the few women scattered around the village who were seemingly unperturbed by the assault, with their response being limited to brief glances and quiet mutters of “poor bastard”. She took some solace in the fact that the darkness hid her shame. Eventually, Nova’s trek led her into the forest, ending in a fenced compound primarily of corrugated metal and rust, hidden from air by the vegetation reclaiming the land. Inside a chain-link enclosure rested a small cargo vessel, long retired from its service. The airship’s interior had been gutted to make room for several seats, but the battered craft’s greatest enhancement was in its masking projectors. Hidden in a maze of exposed components on the left lay a device which allowed the ship to modify its appearance at will. It was nearly instrumental in the raids that Nova sustained herself on, and now the airship once again would be heading out to the outer arms of the City. In the pitch-blackness of the ship, Nova stumbled her way around the metal belly to enter the cockpit, only separated from the hold by a thin metal wall with a door permanently jammed into an open position. As she lowered herself into the jumpseat, she reached behind her for a small button haphazardly taped to the wall, which on her press activated a small flickering light next to her instrument panel. In an effort to save precious energy required to feed the cloaking device, the lighting built into the panel had been gutted, and the only thing illuminating the panel now was a small lamp, flickering in its faded glass sphere. “I’ll probably have enough to dump this piece of shit in a year”. She flicked the ignition and pulled the heavy levers sending the engines sputtering to life behind her. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ It would be hours until the ship, plodding at its lethargic pace, would reach the outer rim of the City in which the target was currently located. Although she hated the long and tedious journey, in which the clunker needed to be put back on course after drifting in a random direction every fifteen minutes, Nova knew that her destination represented a rare opportunity to get one of the largest bounties in her life. The aristocrats was easy to manipulate; if one was to take hold of information compromising their image all of them would unhesitatingly distribute incredible bribes for silence. It was a system was nearly begging for someone to take advantage of. After years of experience, her raids and attacks were easy to her. With knowledge of the City’s arsenal, it was child's play to bypass the often inept security of high-ranking officials, and then it was a case of engaging in combat and recording the inevitable accident. And then the recording could be sold back to her target for extraordinary prices. Nova usually chose targets with less important positions which would also afford her less security to bypass . However, this time would be very different. She would be executing her attack on the Major General Challant, who would be in the outer rim district to oversee the training of an expeditionary force. As was the case with many non-critical government officials, she would be doing so with very little security. Besides, she was always more of a tactician than a battle-hardened warrior. This would be even easier than taking on an oligarch. About three hours into the journey slowly but surely the amount of traffic around Nova began to increase, and slowly but surely the mile-high skyscrapers rose out of the planet's curvature. Only now did Nova begin to make the final preparations for her mission - from a metal box on the side of her seat she took a recording device, and a large datapad on a worn and scratched leather wristband. It was a portable casting device, a favorite of connivers everywhere, which allowed the wearer to take the appearance of nearly anybody albeit with a small delay and wrist-scalding heat. Perhaps the most powerful weapon in Nova’s arsenal, even this heavily used unit had cost fifteen jobs' worth of currency on the black market. Mere possession of one such caster was grounds for arrest in the City. With the ship about to descend into the metropolis, Nova turned on the magical generator, giving the freighter the appearance of a small charter vessel. She disguised herself too with her own bracelet, and in an instant her combat armor and fatigues were now the clothes of an Imperial civilian. With everything set, Nova now turned the ship and began its landing sequence, flying what appeared to be a charter vessel directly into the large port of the city. Somewhat clumsily, she coaxed the ungainly beast into the sprawling mass of skyships and maintenance crews, and eventually she touched down next to a unloading cargo vessel. With a few flicks turning off several switches and a pull of a heavy lever, the ship’s magical systems ground to a halt, and a door flipped open allowing Nova to disembark. All around her, the majesty of the City came into Nova's view. Nearly every structure was built out of crystalline glass polished to a shimmer, and nearly all of them seemed to be connected with an intricate web of sky-bridges, many reaching thirty or forty stories high from the immaculate streets of the City. Giant screens and neon signs promoting a variety of goods threw light everywhere, turning the already intricate shadows on the ground into a flurry of decorative architectural features. Overhead a train, silent and incredibly fast, shot through a transparent tube high enough above the ground that passengers may have felt that they were flying. There were people here too, masses of men, women and children walking in the streets with little to no commotion among their ranks. Everyone simply made their way past each other silently without interaction. In a crowd of such proportions, one was nearly impossible to see. With the bracelet carefully concealed under what an onlooker would see as a long sleeve, Nova’s civilian disguise allowed her to easily meld into the crowd for her short walk to the residential blocks. As she walked in the armor invisible to those around her, Nova could feel the pressure mounting on her bladder from the long voyage and she began to scan around her for a public restroom. With a heightened pace, the brunette pushed her way through the throng, her rapid strides taking her past blocks of glass facades eventually reaching a security checkpoint, set up in the presence of the Major General’s visit. Although the checkpoint would be simple enough to breaking through, with only a few light barriers and a distracted guard, it was easy to tell that starting a fight would not be go unnoticed with the hundreds of roaming eyes all around. Ducking into a small alleyway discreetly tucked behind a shop, Nova smirked as she gave her bracelet a few taps and gestures, and with a wisp her clothes immediately transformed into that of a senior guard for the residential block. Her victory was short-lived, however, it was at that moment that Nova sensed a figure shoot into the alley behind her. She had been followed. Nova’s hand shot for a knife, but the figure from behind her seemed to move impossibly fast as it twisted her arm and used the brunt of its body to hurl her against the wall. The cold metal of a gunbarrel pressed against the small of her back and was forcefully twisted against her body armor. It was a maneuver Nova knew would draw out as much pain and fear as possible. “Who sent you?” A cold and hostile voice of a female soldier. Nova’s eyes were wide with shock and terror, and her body gave a few quakes as it collapsed under the soldier’s strong grasp. Despite her training, her very full bladder had let go the moment that she had been forced into the wall. The relatively thin padding of the pull-up swelled with urine, and as she jammed her only free hand into her crotch to desperately stem the torrent of hot piss from the crux of her thighs she could feel a few small rivulets of urine leak down her legs. Her bowels gave way as well, pushing solid mess into the backside of her diaper, and she could feel the small diaper strain to contain her foul release. The assailant laughed haughtily as she observed Nova’s fearful reaction accompanied by the lingering odor of shit in the air. From her pinned position, Nova could feel her fear rapidly turn into anger, and as soon as the soldier’s grip loosened she immediately sprang into action. Breaking free of the soldier’s grasp, she twisted her body around, and in one rapid motion, her now-free arms snatched her two knives from their sheaths. With their blades pointed at the enemy, she lunged forward with ferocity and stabbed down. Much to her disbelief, the sharp blades found nothing. From a crouching position, Nova took the brief moment to size up her discombobulated opponent. The soldier was built similarly to her, with silvery hair tied in a bun, but wore almost no armor and held a simple snub-nosed handgun. She was wearing heavy goggles - was that how she could see through the disguise? On her back there was a rifle, and her waist a bayonet. Now regaining her senses, she was staggering back and bringing her pistol to bear. Nova lunged without hesitation, and although she was fast enough to send the pistol clattering to the floor, she still felt the speed of her maneuver shake loose a brief trickle of urine from her not yet empty bladder into her soaked diaper. Watching the woman recover from the failed strike revealed to Nova that the battle would not last long. Instead of reaching for the bayonet on her waist, the soldier clumsily reached for the rifle on her back. While the soldier fumbled with her heavy weapon, Nova jabbed forward with a knife. Although the woman recoiled quickly, she noticeably whimpered in pain, and her blood stained her jacket. Nova grinned as the crimson droplets dotted the cold stone ground. With renewed vigor, the soldier lunged again, the gash on her back only increasing her tenacity. Nova could read her attacks, and this time as she dove out of the way Nova lashed a kick to her opponent’s arm. In an instant, the rifle clattered uselessly to the ground. Before the knight could reach her dropped bayonet Nova had already delivered a powerful kick to her stomach. Nova could see the terror in her opponent’s eyes as her body keeled over against the wall, and the trickles of urine running past the knight’s dampened shorts quickly turned into streams of piss pouring down her bare legs. The knight’s shorts sagged down as well, accompanied by the distinctive sounds of a bowel accident. Nova turned to her now-helpless assailant, and slammed the hilt of her knife into the the soldier’s head, instantly incapacitating her. No sense in raising the price on her head over killing a goon. With the guard splayed out on the ground, Nova assessed herself and their brief scuffle. It seemed that the sounds of the city had drowned out the fight, and it would also be unlikely for anybody to go into an alley like this. Save for a few scratches near her neck, Nova was unhurt as well; and despite the sodden padding rapidly cooling near her skin and the lump in the back of her pants it seemed like she had just barely spared her fatigues. With a sigh, Nova crouched down to the soldier, and opened the small satchel on her waist. Inside, she found the standard first aid equipment supplied by the City, as well as a few gold coins which Nova pocketed. Reaching deeper into the satchel, the tips of her fingers grasped something vaguely cloth-like, and as she pulled the object out Nova realized that it was a thick diaper, folded into thirds and adorned with childish designs. With the image of the soldier lying in a puddle of her piss despite the thick diaper, Nova laughed haughtily in spite of her own soiled state. From a pocket in her armor, Nova produced a spare diaper, and after scanning the area for any wanderers, she quickly stripped out of her fatigues and soaked pull-up. After a makeshift cleaning of herself with a bandage from the soldier, Nova quickly slipped into the childish garment tossing the used one into a dark corner. With a sigh and a burning on her face, Nova started on her way to the penthouse, stopping only to pick up the rifle for a second and hold it in her hands. It was a beautifully engineered automatic weapon, kitted out with the latest in ranging and targeting devices that the City could afford all packed into a compact and sleek package. It would be a fantastic addition to her collection - but Nova could also feel the substantial weight of the weapon. She had a job to do, and the rifle would only slow her down. Without care or caution, the gun clattered onto the ground. “Fucking bureaucrats”, Nova muttered as she leapt onto a catwalk, breezing past the view of any guards at the checkpoint. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ Still bristling from the unexpected encounter, Nova entered the building wearing the disguise of a young professional. As soon as she entered the heavy, gilded doors of the tower, she was immediately greeted with a blast of cold air and the sickly-sweet scent of perfume. Nova shivered imperceptibly as she walked across the marble floor of the atrium as excessive as the building’s exterior - in spite of all the building’s grace and opulence, it did not feel welcoming or comfortable to the fighter. With a smirk, Nova noted that the guards seemed completely oblivious to her; none had even bothered to glance in her direction. Of course, who would suspect the slender businesswoman of causing any harm? The guards on the higher floors, Nova knew, would not be as unobservant. Taking a quick glance to ensure that the guards were preoccupied, she ducked into a short hallway and opened a door marked for employees only. As the door swung shut behind her, Nova watched the sliver of light cast on the floor shrink before the heavy thud indicated that there was no longer any trace of her entry. The stairwell she had now entered was barren and concrete, similar to the architecture in Nova’s home. Expertly, she traversed the nearly pitch-black stairs on instinct alone, until she had reached a large chasm with several large machines humming with a high-pitched whine, as the building blueprints she acquired had depicted. At the back of this large atrium was a set of heavy double doors, marked with brightly colored tape. The cargo elevator. The only place where someone could do to the upper floors undetected. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ "There's an intruder in the hotel. Security has been notified. Stay in your room and lock the doors." The tall, redheaded commander barked the warning into a small commuications device linked directly to the general's quarters. She put the device down with some force, turned around, and stepped into a suit of standard issue armor. With rough and deliberate strength, she hefted a large sniper rifle from a rack stacked with similar instruments, and as she slung the powerful weapon over her shoulders she began to go down the concrete staircase at a moderate jog. Towards the back of the large expanse of the penthouse, in a room with full glass windows covered by blinds, the diplomat bade her aides to hide. She herself was entirely unperturbed by the development, immediately going back to behind her entire oak desk, and waited for her guard to take care of the threat. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ "Show yourself!" The command came reverberating down the halls followed quickly by the cacophony of moving armor. Nova cursed as she pressed her back hard against the wall. She had not planned to encounter resistance this early. Not all was lost, however. Crouching at the ready she produced from her pocket a fist-sized, crudely fashioned bomb. Although the impure explosives created by the mudsills could do little damage to the unit through detonation, it was enough for a blinding flash and incredibly loud explosion. As the sparks flew burning the string down to the explosive core, Nova threw the makeshift flashbang at the wall directly opposite her, sending the explosive ricocheting towards the direction of the voice. There was a deafening bang and an immediate smell of heavy smoke in the air. Despite her mental preparation for the detonation, Nova still felt a second-long stream of urine meet her diaper. She, however, had no time to waste on cursing her bladder - she had also made out the sound of a clattering, possibly a weapon hitting the floor. In a flash, her SMG was out of its chest holster and in her hands. With her hands on the trigger, she used the wall as a starting block to burst past the corner of the hallway below hopefully before whoever was there could recover from the blast. If her quarry was still reeling, perhaps a quick pistol-whip would suffice, and if not the gun had a silencer. However, as soon as she had done so her underestimation of her opponent had become painfully obvious. She first felt the arm slam into her throat, then the fist that struck her stomach with such force that combined with the momentum of her sprint would send her flying into the cold floor of the penthouse, and the SMG clattering across the floor. Acting on pure instinct, Nova immediately twisted her body around just to see her assailant reach with deadly speed towards a holstered pistol. Her eyes widened in raw fear, and her bladder released in terror, a forceful stream of urine poured into her diaper which rapidly swelled with warm urine. With no time to think and with all her strength, Nova threw her body towards the standing figure; her heart screamed in her ears body as the strike connected staggering the guard. Only as she scrambled to her hands and feet was Nova aware of the growing warmth between her legs; fortunately although she had completely lost control of her bladder for those terrifying seconds it seemed that the diaper had managed to contain her brief lapse in continence. With renewed vigor, Nova sprung to her feet before her opponent could find her service weapon, and with her entire body weight struck the guard in the jaw with her fist. Without needing to reach for the arsenal she carried, she followed the attack with a flurry of punches and kicks channeled with the raw vigor of adrenaline. As the guard keeled over, Nova threw the woman into an exotic wooden table, the back of the commander landing forcefully on an ornamental crystal bowl shattering the intricate glass vestibule. Standing over her defeated adversary, Nova smiled cruelly as she unsheathed the glinting knives in one fluid motion. “N..no… please don’t kill me.” The plead came as a whimper. Tears filled the once proud soldier’s eyes as she tried pitifully to crawl away from a painful demise, her gun lost and her body cut and bleeding by the shards now scattered on the floor. The soldier had forgone any sort of protection, and as she pleaded woefully for mercy she could feel but was powerless to stop her bladder from completely relaxing, emptying a torrent of warm piss which soaked through her panties and fatigues rapidly and formed a rapidly-growing puddle on the floor. Now cowering in fear, she could also feel her bowels relax, forcing their contents into her underwear which did little to contain the mess. With the lingering odor in the air now demonstrating the soldier’s cowardice, Nova scoffed condescendingly as she sheathed her knives on a worn bandolier. She had no time to dwell on unimportant targets. Breaking into a run, Nova bolted down the tall, windowed halls of the penthouse, the sound of her boots striking the hard ground reverberating through the floor and her brown hair flying wildly behind her. The General's door would be at the end of the floor, behind an grand atrium of glass ceiling and marble pillars. No more guards stood in the way of the suite's door. Pay was fifteen, fourteen, thirteen steps away now. A glint of red appeared against the warm rays of the sun struck the very edge of Nova's vision. Danger. The run turned into a dive as she slammed bodily into the marbled tile, followed not a moment later by a deafening explosion as shattered glass rained all around her. Thank fuck their snipers can't aim without laser dots. A combat roll sent crystal shards bit into the unarmored portions of Nova's skin, but it was a small sacrifice to avoid decapitation from afar. Bringing her arms close to her stomach, she felt the shape of a small cylindrical grenade, the latest in the City's arsenal. Her fingers flicked to the two trigger pins, and in one quick and desperate motion she threw out both pins. Although she had squeezed her eyes shut and turned her head away, the searing flash sent flashes of purple and blue all across her vision. But Nova noticed only the crack of a gunshot racing across the sea of skyscrapers, coinciding with the tiny flash of white to her left. Nova snapped her head towards its source, the top of a glass tower only about a block away. It was easy to discern the black figure against the white of building. The sniper had chosen a poor roost, a clean and clinical modern rooftop where any obtrusion would stand out instantly instead of blending in with AC units and overhead cables. Returning fire would be futile, but the window of opportunity was all she really needed. Still, Nova unloaded her weapon at her target out of spite if nothing else. ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ "Missed!" The transmission seemed ages ago, yet still pounded in the redhead's soul as she retreated from her position. She had lost her target in the shattering glass, and she had only found her for an instant before her retina, locked into the scope, exploded with a blinding flash of light. Panic had forced her finger on the trigger and urine into her combat slacks. She had scrambled to get up from her prone position with the acrid piss running down her thighs when the unmistakable sound of bullets started to bounce off the roof all around her. The staccato explosion of glass windows was simply too much, and the once proud commander fell on her knees as the puddle of pee below her grew. Terror relaxed her body and a foul mush forced its way into her panties. She had crawled with dampened fatigues clinging to her skin and a load in her pants all the way back to the stairwell, and hardly noticed as she collapsed in a sitting position right on top of her mess. With a quavering voice of defeat and terror, she whimpered into her radio, "Target's still there. You've got a fight. Please be careful". And with tears, "I'm sorry". ____________________________________________________________________________________________________ The flimsy lock on the door gave way to Nova’s imposing figure without any resistance. Walking with slow, purposeful steps, Nova rapidly closed the distance between her and the desk of the General located at the back of the room. Challant was not there. Where was she? "Come out now with your hands up and I won't kill you!". “What do you want?” The words, dripping with contempt instead of terror, took Nova off guard. She stopped in her tracks, halfway to the large desk. “I’m here to kill you.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but it helped in making you target truly afraid of her life. Nova drew her gun and moved towards the desk. It was at that moment when the room exploded with light and the smell of propellant. The screaming automatic bark of an assault rifle reverberated off the sides of the room. The scream that came out of Nova was fueled by absolute terror as she dove behind the cover of a wall jutting out from the room's sides. Warmth radiated through her crotch as a small stream of piss escaped into her already sodden diaper. As her fear subsided, Nova felt adrenaline course through her entire body. This fight would be nothing like she had planned for. The gunfire stopped for just long enough for Nova to burst out from cover with her automatic weapon in her grip. Her opponent was dressed in the ornamental garb of generals conducting diplomacy, a starched white uniform with a chest full of gleaming medals. In her hands was a short, snub-nosed rifle smoking at the barrel. It didn't faze Nova, in her element now, with surprise and speed on her side against the combat incompetence of military high brass. She hadn't originally planned to kill the general, but the fight was too dangerous to continue. The SMG's silenced found its mark quickly, and Nova's finger squeezed the trigger. Muffled, silenced bullets erupted out of the suppressor without any telltale flash. They were all aimed directly at center mass. But the spray of blood didn't erupt from Challant's unarmored chest. How the fuck could I have missed? Only then did Nova see the shimmering purple sheen that enveloped half of the room. Some sort of energy shield? Force field? She didn't spend much time on the question before Challant responded with her much louder fully automatic fire. Nova hadn't stopped moving since she came out of cover, and she broke into a full sprint towards a connecting hall. Speed and size made her a small target, but just as she reached the door a bullet struck her armored abdomen. The kinetic force of the impact made her stagger, and a searing pain sliced across her hip. Still running and full of adrenaline, Nova didn't notice as her bladder emptied in terror. The padding tucked discreetly between her thighs rapidly expanded as it absorbed the torrent of hot piss, pressing warmly against her crotch even as her pee continued to soak the waiting padding. A hot stream of pee running warmly down her thigh finally alerted Nova to her accident just as she ducked behind a corner, and the flow of urine finally stemmed. It was obvious that the diaper, now tugging against Nova's waist, would not hold another drop of her pee. More pressing matters occupied Nova's attention as she checked her wound. Blood was dripping from her armor, but the bullet had mostly grazed her side. A quick glance of the room around her revealed a kitchen without cover. She couldn't hear the general give chase, probably because she wouldn't have the protection of the force field here. It was obvious at this point that the mission was a failure. As she leaned against a wall, her muscles burning and her chest pounding, Nova saw her opportunity for escape in a door marked by a glowing FIRE EXIT sign. It wouldn't be a silent escape, but she would at least be able to save her life. The SMG was strapped back across her chest, and she quickly tapped into her bracelet to give herself the appearance of a hotel employee. Down the concrete staircase she went. Shit shit shit shit shit. At least I'm still alive. Climbing down to the ground floor obviously wasn't an option, but the disguise would allow her to disembark at any floor and blend in quickly. The cooling urine against her crotch reminded her of a pressing need to clean herself up soon. With a sinking heart, Nova realized that she was wearing her last diaper. Going back to the ship commando with the rough fabric of the fatigues was not her idea of a good end to a mission. As Nova rounded first corner of the stairwell, the butt of a rifle slammed into the side of her head. All 130 pounds of her were sent careening into the hard concrete floor. Before she knew it a shoe slammed into the small of her back, pinning her to the ground, and a gun's barrel pressed painfully into her scalp. A raspy woman's voice screamed for her to "Put your hands on the back of your head!". Tears of exhaustion and of unadulterated terror reached Nova's eyes. Her body quivered and the remainder of her bladder came pouring out into her already drenched diaper, which quickly reached its capacity allowing the acrid yellow liquid to stream down her legs, soaking her panties and darkening her fatigues. The contents of her bowels also came tumbling out in fear, pressed against the back of her ass by the tight fabric of the diaper. The redheaded commander looked in disgust at her prisoner, lying in a puddle of her own piss on the floor and who had, judging by the odor, obviously just shit herself. This was the woman who had escaped her aim earlier? A quick search of her waist revealed no handcuffs to restrain the would-be assassin. In no mood to show Nova any mercy, she reached for her electroshock gun and turned it up to the maximum allowable voltage, and savored in the process taking careful aim at Nova before shooting the arcing electricity into the cowering body. The bounty hunter convulsed on the ground before going entirely limp, allowing for the commander to strip her of the knives, grenades, and gun. She reached for her radio. "This is Thirteen. Target neutralized. Send in the grunts. And she'll need herself a diaper change".