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Found 148 results

  1. WesternWets

    female Trina's Canon Fear-Wetting

    Version 1.0.0

    ***This image set skips from image 15 to image 20 - 16 through 19 are available in the DELUXE version of this release, which also includes 2 complete chapters that contain Trina needing to pee, wetting herself in fear and then hiking in the soaked shorts down the mountain - twice the price for twice the content*** I'm still amazed at the positive reception of my character Trina hanging out here the last year or so, and even more pleased at your eagerness to see more of the story she belongs to. For those reasons I'm finally presenting the part of that story - one I've been fine-tuning and going back to for well over a decade now - where my omorashi fetish actually leaks (pun intentional) into my personal work, and where Trina pees her pants canonically for the first time. Now as you've seen she's something of an accident-prone person, but within the comic "Spirit DNA" I try to limit her bathroom mishaps. Still, the quest she ends up going on does have its fair share of dangers, and it isn't too long before we find her with a full bladder and no way to escape a frightening situation. Trina holds on while she can, but as you'll see from the spot she ends up in, eventually there would be no helping it, and the babysitter you know and love has an accident in front of the kid she's watching as he and his friend save her. And of course this occurs after she gets stranded in the woods with no bike, so it's up to the kindness of the pizza boy from last chapter to lend her what he's got on for a bit - fortunately since he can transform back and forth into an alpaca, he might be able to help her out for a bit. I wanted to make sure you guys got more than just a brief scene that comes and goes in a much larger comic, and since I illustrated these pages back around 2015-2016 I also felt like going back and redrawing it all with the skills I've picked up since then (and with more of a focus on the omorashi, like my other comics are styled) In total, the image set that resulted has 27 pages of brand new artwork providing every possible angle you can imagine for what happens to Trina in chapter 3 of my comic. Speaking of, you'll also get the pages leading up to and following the accident from the official comic to provide some extra context for the images in the folder. So this set might answer some questions you have from the last bundle, and will show you everything there is about the official accident I made Trina experience - you can probably guess where some of the inspiration for this scene came from 😉 At some point in the future "Spirit DNA" will have a proper launch online and then you can read more of Trina's adventures outside here, but until that time thank you so much for your continued support of her and the rest of my work. One final note there is definitely NUDITY in these image sets, and please feel free to offer feedback that will help me improve on the stories I tell here and beyond. This will be the last time I'll depict Trina peeing in this particular outfit, but don't worry - she isn't done here and has much more 'business' to do in other clothes.

    $4.99

  2. Version 1.0.0

    I'm still amazed at the positive reception of my character Trina hanging out here the last year or so, and even more pleased at your eagerness to see more of the story she belongs to. For those reasons I'm finally presenting the part of that story - one I've been fine-tuning and going back to for well over a decade now - where my omorashi fetish actually leaks (pun intentional) into my personal work, and where Trina pees her pants canonically for the first time. Now as you've seen she's something of an accident-prone person, but within the comic "Spirit DNA" I try to limit her bathroom mishaps. Still, the quest she ends up going on does have its fair share of dangers, and it isn't too long before we find her with a full bladder and no way to escape a frightening situation. Trina holds on while she can, but as you'll see from the spot she ends up in, eventually there would be no helping it, and the babysitter you know and love has an accident in front of the kid she's watching as he and his friend save her. And of course this occurs after she gets stranded in the woods with no bike, so it's up to the kindness of the pizza boy from last chapter to lend her what he's got on for a bit - fortunately since he can transform back and forth into an alpaca, he might be able to help her out for a bit. I wanted to make sure you guys got more than just a brief scene that comes and goes in a much larger comic, and since I illustrated these pages back around 2015-2016 I also felt like going back and redrawing it all with the skills I've picked up since then (and with more of a focus on the omorashi, like my other comics are styled) In total, the image set that resulted has 31 pages of brand new artwork providing every possible angle you can imagine for what happens to Trina in chapter 3 of my comic. Speaking of, you'll also get 2 FULL chapters of "Spirit DNA", and while chapter 2 isn't being included due to lack of omo-content I have provided the pages in which Trina returns to her human state after becoming a chicken at the end of chapter 1. So this set will answer some questions you might have from the last bundle, and will show you everything there is about the official accident I made Trina experience - you can probably guess where some of the inspiration for this scene came from 😉 At some point in the future "Spirit DNA" will have a proper launch online and then you can read more of Trina's adventures outside here, but until that time thank you so much for your continued support of her and the rest of my work. One final note there is definitely NUDITY in these image sets, and please feel free to offer feedback that will help me improve on the stories I tell here and beyond. This will be the last time I'll depict Trina peeing in this particular outfit, but don't worry - she isn't done here and has much more 'business' to do in other clothes.

    $9.99

  3. 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?”
  4. Version 1.0.0

    2,641 downloads

    It took me months to dig, cut, and compile in my spare time, but I'm happy it's finally done guys! This is a mega compilation of clips from over 40 superheroine JAVs, most found on this amazing blog and some found on other AV sites. I manually dug through the entire blog's clips to search for wetting scenes, before cutting them out and compiling them all here. The blog has such an amazing collection of superheroine JAV that I would easily have missed out some that had wetting scenes inside, so I apologize in advance if there are. Until now the blog is still being constantly updated so I'll occasionally check back for more. I also searched on other AV sites to add on to the collection by searching up popular series titles that contained wetting scenes more frequently. Alas, I believe there are still many many more out there I did not manage to procure. Most of the wetting occurs as a result of fear, torture, pain, stimulation, and others. I split the compilation into 3, each of them spans about 30-40 minutes long. The quality isn't amazing, so I apologize for that. At the very least it should still be perfectly watchable. There are title cards (pathetically made in WMM) before each clip so you'd know which JAV clip it is from. If you want any specific video (either the wetting scene cut on its own or the full JAV), just tell me its title and I'll gladly give it to you. If you enjoyed these, which is all I could ask for, fret not because there's more on the way. Some of the clips I found will be uploaded outside from this mega compilation, because I felt that they truly deserved their own shine. Most of them have multiple amazing wetting scenes on their own. So keep a lookout for them 🙂 Lastly, shoutout to @DuffMan for making fall in love with superheroine videos, as well as all his Fear Wetting compilations. Hoping this can help contribute to his legacy.

    Free

  5. Version 1.0.0

    1,480 downloads

    NOTE: This content contains hentai and as such, if it does not suit your tastes, then feel free to ignore. Link to purchase: https://www.dlsite.com/maniax/work/=/product_id/RJ245112.html For those familiar with the series, it plays in the same vein as the previous entries. You play as a custodian who's goal is to scare each girl in a courage test until they faint and are yours for the taking. Your goal is to have each girl's heart rate or bpm high enough that they will faint by scaring them up to 3 times. The best case scenario is to have each girl reach 210+ bpm such that they will wet themselves upon fright and fall unconscious. Before each girl proceeds their trial, you can have them drink something that contains a diuretic, and later replays, a laxative and a combo of the two. If they do so, at the start of the first round, they will want to use the bathroom. You can choose to let them go and see them relieve themselves or have them hold it. If they hold it, should you ever scare them enough to have their bpm reach at least 180+, they will be incontinent but will not faint. Should they ever be incontinent or relieve themselves before the third scare/round, the prompt will not show up. In this version, you now have the option of either giving all the girls panties, diapers, randomize, or choose individually. You cannot change their underwear midgame and as such has to be decided at the start of the game. Should a girl wear a diaper, if you make them drink the stuff before their trial, they will relieve themselves in their diaper which you can see in one of the screenshots above. Should you rape at least 2 girls before finishing a game, you will unlock a suppository in subsequent playthroughs. This allows you to insert it into girls who have fainted such that at the end of the playthrough, all of the girls whom you've inserted it into will need to poop but either do not make it in time or you obstruct them from pooping, causing them to thus mess themselves. The link below is a post in their blog that contains the stats of each scaring tool and their effects on each girl. It also contains hints on how to unlock the other tools as well as the laxative, combo drink, and suppository. http://b.dlsite.net/RG01474/archives/51820044.html#more Last thing to add: The game is still being worked on, with a patch released recently for bug fixes. There are plans to add at least one more character as dlc/in an update akin to Courage Test 4, which had a friend of one of the characters as a new character. So stay tuned for further updates ?

    Free

  6. DsGSilver

    The Contagion

    "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
  7. Version 1.0.0

    538 downloads

    It's not often I post free full-length comics, but this forum continues to show me love and support through sales I still have a hard time believing. The amount of people who paid more for extra content of my own personal characters was a welcome surprise, and since I haven't done a large-scale fan work since my adaptation of "Moon Rise" I decided the next in my series of film scene illustrations should really expand on one of the better wetting scenes in the past decade. It's one that I'm sure many of you have seen in live action form on BBC's "In the Flesh". Taking place in the 2nd episode of series 2, a 19-year-old girl named Jem Walker is returning to school after slaying zombies in a society that's attempting to reintegrate the undead who wish to return to their normal lives in a medicated state. The show portrays the living versus dead much like discrimination between races and cultures, and Jem is caught in the middle of this due to unique circumstances I implore you to discover on your own by watching the show. For context of the sequence, some of these undead are her fellow students, and one of them take a drug that reverts him back into his zombified state, in a stunt to scare the living. It works, and the class sends Jem outside to defend them all knowing she has experience fending off 'rabids'. But she's really not up to it, especially after several nightmares about her time during 'the Rising'. And in the script which I've provided a copy of, you can see that her body reacts to the spike in terror the way that tends to excite us. The scene itself was very well done, in part to actress Harriet Cains doing plenty of research into PTSD to properly act out the onset of a panic attack and other eccentricities of intense fear. It was apparently the show's writer and creator who decided she should pee her pants, but the way they orchestrated the effect suggests that Jem Walker had been holding her bladder a while before going up against that PDS (partially-deceased syndrome) sufferer. So I honed in on what's going on inside her for this reason, focusing on her bladder and kidneys as they struggle to hold in her urine as fear builds until it's too late. Since one of the show's gimmicks is that the undead don't eat or drink - lacking living tissue, one character even jokes about ruining a dress letting a snickers bar run through her - I decided to anthropomorphize Jem's urinary system, similar to how the animated short "Inner Workings" brought the human body's organs to life. It allows for an extra inner dialogue beneath a panicked mind that isn't thinking about her need to pee so much as her need to survive. Her bladder's primary objective is to let it go, or at least hold on until the best moment. This comic explores the strained path that ends in a relieved bladder but a very wet pair of pants. Since I refuse to profit off of copyrighted characters and want to present a gift to the forum, this comic will remain free indefinitely. Included are 15 pages in 2 different sizes for your viewing pleasure, as well as the script for the entire first episode. Ctrl+f and searching for "bladder" or "wets herself" will pinpoint you to the page in the script that acknowledges how she peed her pants in school as a returning older student. The symbolic fall from grace for this conflicted young lady through her briefly uncontrollable urination is sure to give you one of the highest doses of humiliation my comics can offer yet. So enjoy this treat courtesy of WesternWets, and please do give the real show more of a watch than just the one scene we know and love.

    Free

  8. So the PMD's update pointed me to a rare upside-down fear wetting in a film called "Incident in a Ghostland" or simply "Ghostland" that came out this year. It's a horror thriller that I recommend if you can handle super intense, because this film really screws with your head and goes to incredibly dark places. I don't wanna provide context for this scene because it'll spoil quite a bit of the film's twist, but basically this brutal manchild lifts up the protagonist by her ankle. She's been dressed as a doll and has been trying to remain still, but it's not working. As she dangles from her one leg a stain forms right on her crotch and if you listen carefully there's a sound effect of urine squelching against the fabric that nearly took me out of the drama. The wet patch sure looks nice but then there's a second shot where it moves and makes me think it was all CGI. Nonetheless we get one more shot involving her urinating, she screams in terror as pee leaks out her dress down her body and all over her face. This scene alone is fairly graphic just with the situation this poor girl is in and again I can't go into what happens after out of spoiler avoidance, so if you can stomach this film or at least this brief sequence, here you go... ghostland_fearP.mp4
  9. Korean move fear wetting View File I couldn't upload it in the thread so I'll put it here. Wetting occurs sometime around the 40min point. Submitter liesjeversteven Submitted 06/09/2019 Category Peeing  
  10. liesjeversteven

    Korean move fear wetting

    Version 1.0.0

    523 downloads

    I couldn't upload it in the thread so I'll put it here. Wetting occurs sometime around the 40min point.

    Free

  11. desertfc

    female Messenger Teasing

    so i had a bit more of a think about where i wanted to go with this messenger teasing idea. the format's been quite fun to use, and i can write them up quickly since all i have to do is tinker with chat logs a bit. my friend has cooled a bit on the idea of writing anything up herself, but she's still keen for me to keep going on the condition that i also have to do write ups for times when it was her teasing me about having accidents (she likes boy omo as much if not more than girl omo). anyway i'm a switch and I have always liked the mild humiliation that came with her playful banter so i'm happy to accept her condition. but it did raise the question for me of whether it's best to include what would be both male and female omo under the same topic - knowing that most people tend to prefer one to the exclusion of the other. i did think about having two separate topics for male and female omo, but there's a lot of overlap in the convos so i can't really see the point. also i'd prefer to have everything in the one topic instead of having a new one each time. so what i will do as a compromise is I'll include a list of relevant tags in bold in the body at the top of each new post (e.g. female, messing, diapers etc...), and you can choose whether to read on or not. since i did one of hers last time, this first post will be one of mine. so please do note the male tag on the post below before reading on if that's not what you're here for! the tag prefix for the overall topic is still going to be female because there have been more instances of me teasing her than vice-versa and she's still the star of the show as far as i'm concerned. i'm not exactly the most masculine looking guy out there, anyway, so no hard feelings 😂 (edit: for reference, here's the link to where i tried this out the first time - - des The Essayist and the Editor tags: male, desperation, wetting, messing, diapers, fear Stephanie says: hey you! Stephanie says: have you finished reading my preventative health essay yet? 😊 Stephanie says: no rush...but i do have to submit it tonight... des says: hey hey! des says: hmmm, not yet des says: i only just got back from our walk Stephanie says: 😮 Stephanie says: Walking Dozer? des says: yeah des says: hes been barking a lot the last couple of days des says: am hoping that he might calm down if i tire him out a bit Stephanie says: naughty pup!! Stephanie says: well i have been sitting here Stephanie says: for the last hour Stephanie says: trying to hit the word count......... Stephanie says: ughhhhhhh Stephanie says: why do i suck at writing so much Stephanie says: 😞 des says: who, whoa, whoa des says: you don't suck at it des says: you said you got 87% the other day! Stephanie says: 😛 Stephanie says: ya, for the journal entries Stephanie says: those were super easy!! Stephanie says: like 300 words each is nothing Stephanie says: this essay is much harder 😣 des says: i'm sure it's not as abd as you think 😊 des says: bad* Stephanie says: itt's probably worse 😥 des says: nah des says: you're a smart cookie des says: i bet you've been working on it for weeks Stephanie says: ...!! Stephanie says: well! Stephanie says: actually i have! 🤓 haha Stephanie says: but i dont think im using the right references 😞 Stephanie says: i dont think it reads well des says: technically it doesnt need to read at all, its your readers who have to read well 😛 Stephanie says: 😡 Stephanie says: can you just look at it now instead of being a smartass please???!!! des says: okay! okay! des says: i was already reading it anyway 😛 Stephanie says: good boy 😊 des says: *wags tail* Stephanie says: 😛 ... Stephanie says: ... well? Stephanie says: is it that bad? 😓 des says: "the mangement of children's lifestyle choices is paramount"? des says: 'management' maybe? 😛 Stephanie says: hahaha oops 💁‍♀️ Stephanie says: possibly i should have run a spell check?! des says: and i'm not sure about this bit about school lunches at the end des says: how come you don't have a source there? Stephanie says: hmmm well i do have a source for it somehwere! Stephanie says: one of the texts talks about junk food in tuck shops Stephanie says: habits formed at school are a cause of childhood obesity des says: hmmm des says: well find it and stick it in, you need something in there Stephanie says: 😛 ok! des says: otherwise it reads okay des says: conclusion's a bit weak though Stephanie says: 😮 Stephanie says: I havent written a conclusion yet!! des says: whats that bit down the bottom then?! Stephanie says: that was my draft! Stephanie says: its not finished yet 😛 des says: well hurry up and finish it then! Stephanie says: i'm trying too!! des says: 😛 des says: kids these days... Stephanie says: 😮 what??! des says: not you! des says: literally 'kids these days!' des says: getting fat on junk food at the canteen Stephanie says: hmmm yeah 😛 Stephanie says: you probably did too, though 😂 des says: im not fat! Stephanie says: surrrre about that? 😛 Stephanie says: lol okay your not. but maybe you were when you were in primary school 😛 des says: nope des says: i didnt each much of anything as a kid Stephanie says: 😮 des says: i always used to have sultanas for recess des says: mum used to pack a yoghurt and sandwiches too des says: i always ate the yoghurt cause otherwise it'd get loose in my bag and explode yoghurt everywhere Stephanie says: 😛 des says: had to clean out quite a few backpacks in my time! Stephanie says: 😛 des says: but no junk food for me! des says: i didnt even tend to eat the sandwiches 😛 Stephanie says: naughty! des says: why? des says: she always put too much tomato in them and they would come out soggy! Stephanie says: your mumma bear made sandwiches for you and you wouldnt even eatthem!! Stephanie says: 😮 soggy sandwiches? Stephanie says: yikes, okay des says: yeah 😛 des says: bet you wouldnt have eaten them either 😛 Stephanie says: lol probably not Stephanie says: id just swap it with somebody else des says: nobody's going to trade for a soggy sandwich though...... Stephanie says: well, not that kind 😉 des says: 😛 Stephanie says: anyway, i meant i'd swap it when they werent looking 😂 des says: 😮 des says: and what if you got caught?! Stephanie says: hmmm, i'd tell them they could have a soggy sandwich or a knuckle sandwich?! Stephanie says: 😈 des says: 😮 des says: you wouldnt have said that! Stephanie says: i probably wouldve! Stephanie says: i was a bit of a tomboy when i was a kid 😂 Stephanie says: i once broke a kids tooth when he pushed in line for the bubbler! des says: you did what?! Stephanie says: i was thirsty!! Stephanie says: and there was a line for a reason! des says: 😛 des says: wow Stephanie says: wow what 😛 des says: i'm just having trouble imagining you doing that des says: i mean i got in a few fights at school, but well, im a boy 😛 des says: i thought boys were supposed to beat each other up! Stephanie says: !! Stephanie says: well girls can fight too! Stephanie says: even if its with nails! des says: you broke his tooth with your nails?! Stephanie says: 😛 Stephanie says: nah, i pushed him into the bubbler des says: ouch 😵 thats a bit mean! Stephanie says: i didnt mean to hurt him 😞 Stephanie says: i just wanted to shove him out of the way! des says: still! Stephanie says: 😞 des says: well i guess maybe he was a bully if he was pushing in des says: so maybe he deserved it?! Stephanie says: hmmm i was the bully if anything!! Stephanie says: he was a nice kid, i think maybe he just didnt relaise there was a line! des says: oh dear! bully steph! 😛 Stephanie says: 😞 des says: hmmm, guess i'd better be careful what i say about your essay then! 😂 Stephanie says: haha yep! 😈 des says: anyway, i've sent it back to you with changes tracked des says: resent it to me when you have that conclusion though! Stephanie says: lifesaver 😊 thank you!!! des says: no worries 🙂 i'll be here waiting for that final draft! Stephanie says: ahh, youi are such a good boy😛! des says: yeah, but apparently you used to beat up good boys 😛 Stephanie says: 😛 Stephanie says: am i meant to beat you up too then?! 😛 des says: 😮 Stephanie says: I might, hey! 😈 des says: dont scare me!! 😭 Stephanie says: 😄 Stephanie says: maybe you need that nappy?! des says: 😮😳 Stephanie says: 😄 des says: well i'll just go change my pants now... Stephanie says: in preparation, hey! Stephanie says: I'm that scary, huh?! des says: preparation? i might need it now!! Stephanie says: 😂 Stephanie says: well it would give you a bit of padding for when im kicking your butt!!! 😈 des says: a lot of padding depending on what i had for lunch...! 😳 Stephanie says: 😉💩💩😄 Stephanie says: hmmm, ok maybe a bit too far 😛 des says: 😛 des says: a bit! Stephanie says: 😛 des says: but on an unrelated note, i do actually need to get up now des says: and, well, go to the bathroom 😛 Stephanie says: hahahah Stephanie says: well i will do some more work on my essay then 😊 Stephanie says: thanks for checking it for me again😘! des says: anytime 🙂 des says: but don't submit it without letting me see it again first! Stephanie says: i wont! Stephanie says: you go and clean up 😛😂 des says: 😮 des says: i dont need to clean up!!! des says: just tired of sitting here with legs crossed 😛 Stephanie says: sure sure! Stephanie says: laters 😘
  12. as a mostly straight guy, male omo isn't really my thing, but i do make an exception to stuff that happens to me. i love to have accidents, particularly if i can make them into a fantasy in my mind, and particularly when i can do it out in public somewhere when i know i probably - but not definitely - won't get caught. part of me would love to get caught, though. anyway, one place i like to wet my pants is on the beach at night. usually there's not too many people about, and those that are would have a hard time seeing a wet patch on my board shorts in the dark, or hear the splattering of pee onto sand. as you'll see below, i like to use that to my advantage =3 so this is something that happened a years ago when i was around 24 or so. if it helps you to picture it, i'm a few inches shorter than average, dark brown hair, average build. back then i was kinda skinny, though, i used to do a lot of running back in the day. an ex once told me she thought i looked like ben whishaw, which i can kind of see if i turn my head and squint a bit. my hair's definitely a lot shorter though lol anyway, true story follows... - des If there's one thing we're spoiled for in Australia, it's beaches. One of my friends who I met when I was studying at uni in Sydney had a family beach house in Huskisson, NSW. Huskisson is one of the little coastal hamlets that line the shore of Jervis Bay which is one hell of a beautiful place. Sparkling white sand. Crystal clear water. Sand dunes rising up to rocky cliffs.There's a navy base out on the peninsula, and a couple of ships that sit on the far side of the crystal clear water. It's an extraordinary place and definitely worth a visit if you get the chance. My friend liked to invite me and my other mates out there when we had our mid-semester break in September. We'd go out there and spend the week getting blackout drunk, playing video games, movie marathons, various substance abusing, basically anything except doing the essays and reports that we would end up having to do in a mad rush when we got back. Anyway, I digress. The evening that this took place came after a long day of swimming and bushwalking around the capes. Two of my mates had gotten pretty badly sunburnt and had retired to their rooms with some aloe vera feeling sorry for themselves. The rest of us were so exhausted that it didn't matter, though, there wasn't going to be any partying that night. I ended up playing a few rounds of FIFA with a friend before he lost interest and went to bed. I flicked through a few channels to see what was on, and ended up landing on Tom Cruise's War of the Worlds. As I sat there watching, I became aware of a nagging need to pee. I decided to put off going to the toilet for a little while. Part of me was already laying the groundwork for me to have a bit of omo fun, but I sat there watching the movie and sipping at my beer for the time being - determined to wait a little before committing to anything. For one thing, I wasn't sure whether it'd be a good idea to act on the impulse with my friends all around the house, and for another I wanted to wait a bit and make sure they were all asleep before trying anything adventurous. As much as I'd be turned on by the humiliation of being caught having had an accident by a cute female my age or a little older, my friends were pretty typical college guys and didn't really fit the bill. But as I got more into the movie an idea began to form in my head that I couldn't shake out. The beach was dark, and not many people would be likely out and about. I still felt like I had a bit of energy, and I have always loved walking on the beach at night. The shortage of light pollution makes the night sky so much more vivid and alive. So I decided I'd drink a bit more until the urge was much more noticeable, and then go for a walk of just the right length to guarantee I wouldn't make it back dry. I finished my drink and started on another. And then the movie got to the bit where Tom and his kids are trying to make their way through a crowd onto a ferry and (spoiler!) a tripod comes over the hill behind the town to ambush the crowd and announcing itself with a blast of its horn. That gave me a little shiver. I could picture myself being hunted by one of those machines - trying to hide amid rubble, desperately hoping not to be found. I know the aliens all died in the end because they were too stupid to get vaccinated before beginning their conquest, but I think personally I'd probably fancy my chances better against zombies than tripods. Maybe it's because I'm already short, but the idea of a few giant enemies is more frightening to me than zombie hordes. Anyway, there was a power blackout. So I was left sitting there in the dark with my drink, listening to snores coming out of different rooms. As you can imagine, it didn't take me long to decide to head out. Standing up was interesting. When I had been sitting down, the urge to pee was definitely noticeable, but just by standing up my desperation doubled. I couldn't even stand up straight at first. I stayed there in front of my chair for a few seconds, annoyed that I had misjudged things and waited too long. I thought there was no way I'd make it down to the beach and that the safest thing might have been to abort, but I decided to try a few steps and I found that walking seemed to make it feel better. So I didn't hesitate any longer. I went out the door and slipped on my thongs (aka flip-flops, jandals, slippers, etc. we call them thongs), and wandered down the bitumen road to the beach. I had been right in thinking that not many people would be out. Jervis Bay is full of holiday homes and gets pretty busy in summer, but this was a midweek Spring evening in late September. The smell of cooked sausages wafting over the road from a house around the corner was the only evidence apparent to me of other people being about. There were lights on in plenty of houses, but most people had clearly turned in for the night. I ambled along a little more slowly than I'd normally walk. My level of desperation was probably a solid 8/10, and it was definitely inhibiting my ability to walk normally, but I was determined to make it down onto the beach and as far as possible to try to force it hit 10/10 when my body wouldn't give me a choice. And sure enough I made it to the beach a few minutes later, still at 8/10. There was a slight wind blowing as the waves crashed into the headland. The tide was still low, but coming in. I trudged along the sand enjoying the starry night sky, and I started to think to myself that I should have brought my drink with me to try to speed things along, because while my bladder was full enough to be noticeably uncomfortable, I felt it was still a fair way off being at capacity. I then heard some whooping and laughter from further up the beach. Somebody had lit a fire from driftwood, and I could make out a few figures running around with branches on fire like Tom Hanks in Castaway. I hesitated for a second. From the sound of their voices I deduced that it was group of young women, probably more students having a week off like me and my mates. Could I risk running into them in my condition and possibly having to stop and talk to them for a while? Things could happen very quickly if I made the wrong choice, and I was paralysed by the paradox of omorashi - how amazing would it be to have an accident in front of girls, but oh god, what if I they saw? I wanted to be caught, but I didn't want to be caught. The end result of my shyness and indecision was that I kept approaching them, but with a view to just keep walking straight past and see what'd happen. There was a lot of giggling coming from around their campfire, and it became obvious to me that they were pretty drunk. A couple of them who'd been splashing around in the water streaked back up to the fire when I got to about 100m away, and when I caught sight of their pale figures in the moonlight bolting back to their makeshift camp I realised they'd been skinny-dipping. 'Hey, there's someone over there! Kylie, put your towel on for heaven's sake!' The two girls who'd been in the water shrieked and dived down onto their towels quickly wrapping it around themselves. 'Sorry!' one of the girls called out as I wandered past, not confident enough to do anything but shamble past awkwardly, 'Hope you didn't see anything disturbing!' They started giggling amongst themselves at her remark and my brain was too scrambled to come out with anything witty or even vaguely self-assured. The pressure in my bladder seemed to have suddenly skyrocketed, and I was worried that maybe I had taken things a bit too far. 'No, you're all good!' I answered pathetically, 'Have a great night.' They went quiet for a bit and I took advantage of this to advance a bit further up the beach. I had probably gone another 50m beyond them when I decided I'd come far enough. I'd come down to the beach to have a bit of omo fun, and the girls nocturnal activities had thrown me for a bit of a loop. But now a naughty idea settled in my mind. I decided to have my 'accident' here, with the girls still in sight and within earshot - but far enough away that they probably wouldn't know exactly what I was doing. So I abruptly stopped walking and that jarring movement made my desperation ramp up to 9.5. That was enough for me. So I spread my feet and pushed my hands into my crotch, knowing full well that if any of the girls looked over at that moment they might well be able to guess what I was doing from my body language. Or at least what I wanted to do. I couldn't get started. It was a bit surprising and annoying considering how badly I needed to go, and rather than just stand there like an idiot I decided to walk on a bit in the hope that I could relax more. It was painful to walk by this stage, but mercifully it was only a few more steps. And that was because a couple of unexpected things then happened simultaneously like an omo god's deus ex machina to make me totally piss my pants. One of the ships out in the dark bay blasted its horn for a few seconds and at the same time the headlights of a car coming down the beach road slowly advanced down the beach towards me. I came to an abrupt stop and my desperation doubled again as I jammed my thighs together and bent my knees into a half crouch, but this time there was another element to it. The horn had reminded me of the Martians from the movie I'd been watching, and I suddenly imagined that there was a tripod that had ambushed me on the beach and that the headlights approaching me along the sand were its searchlights seeking me out. For that perfect moment I could feel fear, standing stock still as the searchlight closed in on me. I felt petrified, like a mouse that had been caught by a cat. And that was the trigger I needed. I started peeing suddenly and forcefully, completely without control. I couldn't have stopped if I'd desperately wanted to, and let's be honest - I desperately wanted not to stop. This was the first time in my life that I had managed to turn a planned and deliberate wetting into a genuine accident brought about by a fright, and the loss of control felt amazing. Tears of relief and pleasure filled my eyes as my dick became a high pressure hose hissing out warm liquid to envelop my crotch and flow down my thighs and calves into my sandals, and splattering noisily around my feet. At that moment I heard some more laughter coming from the girls camp - most likely unrelated to my situation, I knew - but in the moment I imagined to myself that they had noticed, and I could feel my face flushing in the dark as I envisioned them giggling as they watched me flood my shorts like a frightened little boy. My commitment to drama in this moment was total, and after probably 90 seconds of helplessly soaking my swimshorts I collapsed onto my knees in fulfillment of my fantasy. To my surprise, there was no puddle around where I was kneeling. The sand seemed to have taken all the evidence and absorbed everything. I was a bit disappointed because I had been eager to see how much I had managed to get out. I half hoped one of the girls might come over to see if I was alright only to catch me in obviously pissed pants, but of course, none of them did. My thongs squished and squeaked under my feet as I made my way back to the house. The wetness having gone cold wasn't an altogether bad feeling, and I stopped a couple of times to re-wet myself on the way back home as my bladder filled up again under the influence of the alcohol. That felt good, too, but none of it matched that perfect moment I got to have with my unwitting witnesses who would never know the absolute flooding they'd witnessed. I was still buzzing with excitement when I got back to the house. I had completely pissed my pants in 'fear' not 100m away from a bunch of drunk girls (who we later went on to meet, but that's another story). I couldn't even be 100% sure that they hadn't seen what had happened. I stepped into the shower and didn't even strip down before I'd started to play with myself. That was one hell of a beach walk.
  13. (Just a little advertisement first, we've recently formed a Council discord channel. So if you're into proud tough ladies getting into embarrassing situations, getting spooked and having humiliating accidents shoot me a dm. We've got a handful of likeminded authors and artists) Welcome to the sequel of, One huge thank you to my wonderful girlfriend and editor who puts up with my atrocious grammar. Without any further interruptions, enjoy. Baiken huffed as she laid down for a change. The audible squish of clammy, sodden padding underneath her kimono brought a blush to her cheeks. Rivulets of urine dribbled over the plastic shell. The garment had been completely saturated during the night. “It would help if you learned to do these things yourself.” the doctor said, taking a moment to strike an exaggerated pose while he thought. Baiken just growled at him. “It’s difficult with one arm, and if you’re going to make me wear them, then you’re going to change them!” she snapped. “Okay, okay!” he said, holding his hands out, knowing how ill-tempered she could be...especially in the morning. “But look at the progress you have made.” he beamed. She stared back at him, nonplussed. Whatever he was so jovial about she didn’t seem to see it. “Progress, no matter how small, is still progress!” he exclaimed. Reaching into his surgical coat, he rummaged around for a moment before yanking out a sheet of stickers. The crude woman clenched her jaw with displeasure. His methods were embarrassing to say the least. Peeling off one of the stickers, he thrust it forward, sticking it to the “progress” chart in the wet row. She rubbed her face with embarrassment. “I’m not a child, are those really necessary?” she growled again already knowing the answer. “You agreed to follow my methods.” he commented with a shake of his head. “And I’m the doctor!” he added before shoving the stickers back into his coat. “Like I was saying, progress! This is the first night since you arrived that you didn’t have a nocturnal bowel movement.” he exclaimed with pride as if he were a father helping his daughter potty train. The pink-haired woman looked unimpressed by the revelation. “I guess.” she begrudgingly admitted. It was true; since arriving in the city she’d been haunted each night by horrifying dreams. Memories of the past caused her to wake each day, diaper soaked with her own urine and the rear bulging with shit. It had been so bad that she’d leaked the first two nights; Faust insisted her bed be fitted with a protective mattress cover. To do that during the day was one thing but even while she slept! Baiken shuddered, recalling the sticky muddy sensation of a dirtied diaper that she’d spent all night sleeping in. “In addition, you’ve had fewer incidents these past three days!” he added encouragingly. Faust gestured to the chart that was filled with stickers; she couldn’t bring herself to look. Baiken didn’t have to look to know how bad it was. The unbidden dribble of urine into the thirsty padding around her groin seemed never ending. When she wasn’t in ‘class’, most of her day was spent doing menial labor around the compound. Baiken cynically suspected that Faust was just too cheap to hire a cleaner. “Oh, I nearly forgot. You’ll be happy to know that I’ll be getting another patient for precisely the same reason you’re here… well… not precisely the same reason. I shouldn’t be so specific. A similar reason?” he mused, searching for the right word. Baiken groaned, resisting the urge to snap at him again. “Change me before I get another rash.” she hissed. The doctor snapped out of his thoughts at her demand. “Oh, yes, of course!” Whistling a quiet tune through the ridiculous paper bag he wore as a mask, he began. She turned her head to the side, looking out the window as she tugged up the bottom half of her kimono. Cool air suddenly hit her naked skin, and the smell of stale pee tickled her nose. “You’ve been drinking more water too, excellent.” he noted, breaking his jovial whistling to offer her more praise. “Oh, and before I continue, do you still need the toilet?” he asked. There was no use in denying it; she had learned how insistent he could be. Best to just get it over with. Baiken nodded and felt him raising the front of her diaper, holding it back in place. She balled her fists and pushed. A weak stream dribbled from her urethra. The pink-haired woman could feel the warm liquid trickling down her slit, running over the bottom of her buttocks and pooling in the saturated garment before slowly being absorbed. “I’m done.” she grunted dismissively. “Wonderful.” he said before once again removing the wet diaper. “And lift.” he told her. She did as he requested, raising her hips for him as she felt the wet garment pulled away. Freedom, if only for a scant few minutes. She let out a yelp of surprise at the sudden chill touch of the sanitizing wipe. “Cold!” she growled at him. The first time he’d endeavored to change her in the morning she’d ended up urinating all over his hand… that had prompted him to begin asking if she still had to go. “Yes, sorry, sorry. I always forget.” he said absentmindedly. His apologies didn’t stop him from continuing his efforts to wipe the sheen of urine from her flesh. “And done, that wasn’t so bad.” he attempted to assuage her poor mood. She mockingly mouthed his words. It’s what he said every time… “and a fresh diaper.” he continued to narrate her change as he laid the garment on the table. Unfolding the thickly padded garment she instinctively lifted her hips, allowing Faust to slide the diaper under her. “How many more of those do you have? You said you’d order them without those stupid prints on them.” she groused. “Oh, but I think they’re adorable!” he exclaimed. “The pink pictures even match your hair.” he continued. Baiken’s eye twitched with irritation. That was not the answer she desired… “Soon, soon!” he said quickly, upon seeing the death glare. “At the rate you’re using them, I’d say another week or two… or three?” he said. It sounded like he didn’t even know. Baiken remained silent, allowing him to finish taping the diaper snugly around her hips. “All done, we’ll see you shortly for class. Make sure you eat breakfast.” he nattered before sliding out of the room. “What a weirdo…” she grumbled, swinging her legs over the side of the changing table. Standing from the table her kimono fell back into place, hiding her diaper once more. With him out of the room she approached the potty training chart, running her fingers over the myriad of stickers. So many accidents… her eyes watered with shame at the reminder and she stormed from the room. A short while later she reclined on the back two legs of the chair, belching loudly as she rubbed her stomach. A hearty breakfast of eggs and cured meats had satisfied her appetite for now. Since he was off tending to who knew what she’d even brewed a pot of coffee. His insistence on drinking water water water was incredibly tiresome and the caffeinated beverage warmed her insides as she sipped from the mug. She wondered who was going to be joining her suffering at Faust’s clinic. Maybe it’d be someone she’d met in her travels? Baiken gulped down the rest of the coffee and let the chair fall forward, returning to all four legs with a wooden clunk. Slamming the mug down, she wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her kimono. She stood up and immediately froze as a noisy wet splortch came from her diaper. She’d stood too quickly and accidentally messed her diaper. Gingerly reaching behind her she probed the seat of her padding. It wasn’t much but she could feel the slippery, sticky sensation of a small gooey dollop of poop between her cheeks. To make matters worse the gusset of the thick garment wasn’t dry anymore either. A small discolored patch caused the patterns to fade slightly. At least it was a small accident… it barely even counted! Baiken tossed her dishes in the sink, squirming in her diaper, before exiting to the courtyard. Her diaper could wait for now; she didn’t want to ask Faust for a change so soon… The morning sun was already creeping towards noon. It was only with Faust’s coercion that she was beginning to rise before midday at all! Now that she wasn’t up all night drinking it was a possibility. She spat on the ground with irritation. A bedtime… at her age! A heavy bladed axe waited for her with a pile of unsplit logs; wood for the fireplaces and the stoves. Hefting the large tool above her head she began the menial job. It was simple, honest work, and one of the few things Baiken moderately enjoyed here. At least she could keep her strength up! Still, it wasn’t a finely crafted weapon like her sword (which Faust had been adamant about locking up). He insisted that she was safe here, and that it was a place of healing, not violence. She scoffed at his words as they came back to he, and resumed splitting the wood. She let herself fall into the repetitive work. The rhythmic thumping of the axe blade masked the brief spurts of urine that dampened her diaper. Faust skittered back into the yard, peering towards Baiken as she labored. The dutiful doctor continued his peculiar gait towards the distracted woman. His diaper checks continued to take her by surprise, and this time was no exception. He leaned forward, craning his neck up underneath the hem of her kimono and shoving his face against the bottom of her diaper. She screamed in surprise, the axe flying from her hand at the apex of its arc. “FREAK!” she shouted as she whirled around, her heart beating against her chest. The unexpected startle had brought a spate of urine spattering noisily against the groin of her diaper. Her bowels had loosened as well. Already needing to relieve herself from the coffee, a loose watery movement exploded into her diaper, causing the garment to sag beneath her hips. “What are you doing!?” she barked at him, hands jammed between her legs, thighs quivering with the effort to control herself. “I was simply checking your diaper.” he said as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Retrieving what she instantly recognized as her voiding journal he began to write. There was a silence between them… save for the sound of a babbling stream coming from between her legs. “Oh dear… I didn’t intend to startle you!” he apologized to the blushing woman. “Well… I need a change now…” she grumbled under her breath. “Yes… I ahh heard your release. Did you completely void?” he asked. Baiken did not appear pleased by the question. “Yes…” she spat. “I see.” he noted, jotting down something in the diary before beckoning her off to the changing area. “We should get you changed before class anyway. Your diaper was quite wet.” he said which she immediately denied. “No it wasn’t!” she retorted! “I was perfectly… almost perfectly dry!” she huffed, following him back to the changing room now with an awkward bow-legged stride. Desperately she attempted to avoid squishing the moderate bulge in her diaper any more than she already had. “Don’t worry, I’ll have you cleaned up before you know it. We wouldn’t want to be late!” he said, grabbing her by the hand; suddenly he was pulling her across the courtyard in a near sprint. Her dirty diaper bounced against her bottom, squishing wetly with every step. Baiken’s protests fell on deaf ears. Unlike the earlier change which had only taken a few minutes, changing her after a full bowel movement took some time. Fortunately he was meticulous with his effort to keep her from getting a rash. The smell was atrocious; she pinched her nose shut as he tirelessly worked to clean the filth from her backside. It took a good fifteen minutes but in the end she was clean again and placed in a new diaper. “Oh dear… we’re already a few minutes late!” he said, scuttling out of the room without another word. She shook her head and trudged after him. This was undoubtedly her least favorite part of the day… since she’d failed out of his initial Bedwetting therapy class and been transferred to Beginning Potty Training for toddlers dealing with a bunch of brats was extremely irksome. Arriving in the classroom she could hear him apologizing for being late. “Sorry, Ms. Baiken had a little accident in her diaper and needed changing.” he told the classes which brought an uproar of giggles from the young children. “Shut up! That’s not true!” she lied, flustered by the doctor’s humiliating apology. So much for doctor patient confidentiality! “Ms. Baiken, language!” he scolded her. The crass samurai narrowed her eyes and took her seat in the rear of the class, cursing quietly to herself. Her diaper crinkled audibly as she sat. The lesson dragged on… and on… some of it was based in physiology some of it just sounded like gibberish but it was all dumbed down to such an inane level. She heard her name called and snapped to attention. “Ms. Baiken are you paying attention?” Dr. Faust’s voice asked. She growled back at him “Yes.” Even through his paper bag she could tell he was giving her a skeptical look. He paused the lecture and pointed at her dramatically “Then you’ll have no problem telling me. What is the first thing you do when you need to potty?” he asked, pensively waiting for her response. Baiken glowered at him and the simplicity of his questions. “You go to the pot…” she cleared her throat correcting herself. “The toilet.” she said smugly. The class burst out into giggles again at her expense. “Wrong!” he exclaimed, smacking the whiteboard. “Class, Ms. Baiken’s answer is why she is still wearing diapers. When you feel the need to potty, you…” he waited for the class to fill in the answer. There was a unanimous shout from the younger children. “Hold it.” they all said. A young girl patted Baiken on the thigh comfortingly. The pink-haired woman simply glowered at her until she retreated. Fortunately, she was spared embarrassment for the rest of the lesson… until she felt her stomach gurgle ominously. Fifteen minutes left… She straightened her posture, but that hardly helped her sudden, desperate predicament. Breakfast had caught up with her, and to make matter worse, that nagging urge in her bladder had returned as well. She fidgeted where she sat, muscular thighs bobbing up and down. Asking to use the bathroom… there was only a few more minutes left… she could already hear the children giggling if she asked to excuse herself. She glanced up at Faust, still blathering on as per usual. Somehow he seemed to without fail capture the attention of the children with his lessons. She snorted with derision at the idea of a psychopath like him teaching anything useful to children. Her short laughter had been louder than intended; Faust paused his lesson cocking his head a full ninety degrees to the side. “Ms. Baiken, is there something you would like to share with the class?” he asked. The samurai could feel a multitude of eyes all on her. She waved her hand dismissively, attempting to deflect the attention. “Nothing important.” The doctor did not look amused with her answer. “Would you be so kind as to join me at the front of the class?” he asked… His tone of voice however...she could tell it wasn’t a request. “Is that really necessary?” she retorted. “You agreed to follow my rules and guidelines! I expect you to set a good example for the children, but your outbursts have been very distracting today! Isn’t that right, class?” he said, looking around at the young children. They all looked somewhat confused by the question before agreeing in unison; Baiken groaned. “Fine, fine, I’m coming.” she growled. Slowly she uncrossed her legs and got to her feet. Brushing off her kimono, she sauntered towards the front of the class, past her younger classmates; diaper crinkling noisily with every step. “Well?” she asked, standing indignantly in front of him with her hand on her hip. There was a moment of silence. “The paddle of classroom justice!” he loudly announced. Taking his full nine foot height he utterly towered over the smaller woman. The color drained from her face as she craned her neck back to see him. Walking hunched over as he did, it was easy to forget just how tall Faust was. From behind his desk he’d retrieved a large wooden paddle; it must have been every bit of five feet long! It was as big as she was! The class oooohed all together as they watched. She could already feel a gush of pee warming the diaper between her legs at the sight. “W...wait no… that’s…” she tried to protest. Faust sat on the edge of his desk, and before she knew what was happening the lanky man had pulled her over his knees. Tugging up the bottom of her kimono he exposed the puffy diaper. “Oh dear, if you needed a change you should have said so.” he lectured her, spotting the damp discoloration. “I didn’t I… ooh…” she grit her teeth, finally managing to clench her muscles and stem the flow. “Let me up, you pervert!” she barked at him! Faust ignored her demands and addressed the class. “Ms. Baiken is going to be disciplined. This is what happens when you disrupt class and misbehave!” he said, bringing the large paddle down on the woman’s bottom. Even through the thick padding it hurt. Baiken yelped in pain as she was forced forward from the impact. Any semblance of control she’d managed to regain over her bladder instantly disappeared upon impact. A noisy deluge of piss rushed into her diaper. The audible hiss earned giggles from the spectators. “Ahhhhh!” Faust exclaimed, seeing the protective garment begin to droop and swell. “Using your diaper won’t save you from your punishment!” he announced, bringing the paddle crashing down once more. Due to her forceful peeing saturating the diaper, the impact was more of a wet thump the second time around. She blushed with humiliation as every eye was glued to her plight. “I…” the paddle came down with a loud WUMP, interrupting whatever she was about to say. “Faust, please!” she managed to interject before it came down again. “In my classroom my discipline is law!” he exclaimed without stopping, bringing another hard swat down on her backside. With each strike she could feel her bowels loosening, her anus quivering. She grimaced, enduring another blow to her behind. “S..stop.” she futilely begged. He raised the paddle once more. Her body convulsed, her stomach tensed, and in anticipation of the blow her bowels uncontrollably evacuated. It was noisy, sticky, wet. Time seemed to slow down as she felt each gram of waste crackle and ooze into her diaper. The stream of urine had started to taper off; a single rivulet of urine running down her muscular thigh. “Nnng I… I’m… s...stop!” she whined as she pushed more filthy mush into her padded underwear. There were gasps of shock, giggles, and full blown laughter from the children watching her. “She’s pooping her diaper!” one announced gleefully, delighting in the woman’s misery. Another giggled madly “she’s fudging her huggies!” he snickered. “Ewww, that’s so gross!” a young girl said, pinching her nose in an exaggerated fashion. The seat of her diaper swelled; already the prints had disappeared when she’d wet. Now the white shell of the garment was slowly starting to turn a mottled brown. “Oh dear… oh dear!” Faust exclaimed, not having expected this to happen. “She’s a poopy girl!” another voice gleefully announced. Faust finally intervened. “Please class, don’t tease Ms. Baiken for having an accident. It is, after all, why she is here. I suppose this is lesson enough…” he admitted before snapping his fingers with inspiration. Baiken meanwhile grunted one last time, pushing the last of her poop into her diaper, brown muck starting to seep out around the leg holes. Faust returned Baiken to her feet. She nearly lost her balance, but was glad she did not. He slammed his hand down on the desk and with one swift movement cleared it. Pencils, papers, even the ancient typewriter he had for some unknown reason clattered to the ground. Once cleared he brought his fist down smacking the desktop and the whole surface rotated. What was once a standard desk now looked like a changing table one might find in any public bathroom. “Please, Ms. Baiken. Go ahead and lay down. In place of the rest of her spanking she was to be a demonstration to the class! Her head swam, slowly she did as she was told lest she provoke the lunatic further. “Please, one of you fetch Ms. Baiken a diaper.” he asked the class. One of the other children hopped to her feet and scrambled to get the sorely needed garment. Under the desk resided the rest of the supplies he would need. Climbing onto the changing table, Baiken could feel her kimono being lifted up. “Before you lay on your back.” Faust chimed in again. The doctor pointed to the leaking leg guard’s smeared with brown. “You see, class, this is why you should always change as soon as possible. You can see Ms. Baiken is already about to leak! It’s fortunate we were here already.” he explained, keeping her sagging diaper on display for a moment. Baiken shut her eye, absolutely mortified, wishing to be anywhere but her current predicament. “You may lay down.” he said gently, allowing her to twist around and lay on her back. She stared down woefully as he spread her thighs. The entire front of her diaper was sodden, ; she could feel the heavy warmth blanketing her hips. He inspected her for a moment “Oh dear… we might need to get you something thicker; you’re a very heavy wetter for your size.” he said, clicking his tongue with concern. “Oh no no… the colossus is the thickest model!” he exclaimed with an air of hopelessness to his voice. “Oh, I’m rambling again. Anyway!” he turned his attention back to the blushing diapered woman waiting for her change. “Class, you’ll see changing Ms. Baiken’s diaper is just like changing any other.” he explained as he began un-taping the thoroughly soiled garment. Baiken wrinkled her nose at the sudden foul smell emanating from her poopy diaper. There was a quiet murmur about how stinky she was from the class. “Yes, due to her poor diet and previous dependence on alcohol, Ms. Baiken is a stinky girl.” he said absentmindedly as he continued to scrub the excrement from her skin. “Shut up!” she hissed at him. He paid little attention to her outburst and continued the task at hand. Much to Baiken’s chagrin, narration of each step was included. It was among the most humiliating fifteen minutes of the pink-haired woman’s life. Finally it was over, and the class was dismissed. She was the first to leave, running as fast as she could back to her room. The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Baiken broke out her hidden stash of rice wine that Faust had yet to find and drowned her misery in it; eventually she wandered out and into town. Hours passed and with a sodden diaper drooping wetly between her legs she returned. Faust was in his lab doing… Baiken wasn’t about to ask; but… there was another voice? “Oh, the little one’s returned~” a flirtatious voice called out as she came into the doorway. The voice caused the hair on the back of Baiken’s neck to stand on end. Her eye widened, a gush of urine running down her leg. “YOU!” she growled, lunging forward with malicious intent in her eyes. I-no let out a faux scream holding her hand to her head. “Oh Faust, this crass woman is going to attack me. I’m so scared~” she announced melodramatically. Faust stepped forward, blocking Baiken’s path to the dark haired woman. I-no was in her own little world, snickering at the display. Faust was scolding Baiken; the small, pink-haired woman flailing her arms in an attempt to shove past the monster of a man. I-no crouched down, spreading her knees. Her skirt rode up exposing a thick diaper adorned with cartoonish musical notes. “I’m so frightened I pooped my diaper~” she said with a breathy moan, rubbing the front of her diaper with one hand as a wet stain started to form. Grunting, the seat of the childish garment began to tent and expand as she strained to empty herself. “Ms. I-no is here under a very strange circumstance, but I expect you to behave yourself around her!” Faust said, looming over the irate woman. “She’s a madwoman, keep her away from me doctor~” I-no’s coy voice rang out as she grunted again and finished messing her diaper. A wet discoloration blossomed under her hand that’d been mischievously rubbing the front of her diaper as she let out a subdued moan. Baiken finally saw what the short haired woman was doing and recoiled in horror. “Degenerate, pervert!” she snapped, taking a step back and glowering at I-no. Faust whirled around “No! Ahhhh, Ms. I-no, that’s exactly what you’re not supposed to be doing!” he exclaimed, waving his hands in the air. “Stop that this instant!” he demanded. I-no pouted playfully and stood, tugging her skirt back down over her diaper. At least Baiken’s kimono hid it well… the dirty brown bulge hung quite obviously beneath the hem of I-no’s red skirt. She winked at Baiken. “I suppose you’ll be changing me now?” she said to Faust. “Of course! I can’t allow you to stay in a soiled diaper. You’re supposed to be using the toilet!” he said, sounding exasperated with the woman. “Come along both of you!” he grabbed both of them by the wrist dragging them to the changing area. “Now, since you’re incapable of changing yourself. You might have better luck changing someone else.” Faust explained. Baiken scoffed angrily. “I’m not changing that pervert’s diaper.” she protested. “How else will you learn to change your own!” he countered, thrusting them both into the changing room, locking the door behind them. “Neither of you are allowed out until you’re both in clean diapers!” he announced, pressing his face up against the frosted window. “And no funny business!” I-no traipsed in, Baiken stumbled; catching her balance. Taking a moment I-no paused, reaching behind her and squishing her poopy diaper against her bottom with a guttural moan. The pink haired woman gagged, recoiling in horror… how could she do that… “Faust, let me out!” she growled, turning around knocking on the window where his face was. He didn’t flinch, answering with a resounding “NO” “But I bet you’ve never even tried squishing it~” I-no’s sultry voice teased her. She felt sick at the thought; deriving enjoyment from such things? She shook her head, turning around to face her new “classmate”. I-no was face to face with her, a hand reaching underneath Baiken’s Kimono and pressing the front of her saturated diaper. The soggy padding squished softly against her skin. She breathed in sharply, grabbing I-no’s wrist and yanking it away. It hadn’t been the worst sensation, but the proud woman would rather fall on her sword than admit anything to I-no. “Oh, you enjoyed that~” she teased, rubbing her wrist when Baiken let her go. Baiken glared at her. “Touch me again and even without my sword I will end you.” she threatened. “So fearsome, can’t even keep her pants dry~” I-no mocked. “At least I choose to do it~” she continued. “For some disgusting reason…” Baiken countered sharply, tromping over to the changing table. This was a sick joke, bringing I-no here. “Change mine and I’ll change yours.” Baiken growled at her, pointing at the table. “Oh, you’re no fun~” I-no huffed. She stroked her chin “Fine, but you first~” she said. Baiken crawled onto the changing table, spreading her legs for I-no to change her. “Oh dear, you really soaked that one.” I-no commented. “You’re even leaking~” she noted, running her finger along Baiken’s wet, muscular thigh. Baiken shuddered at her touch “No funny business.” she repeated, continuing to glare at her. Fortunately, her diaper was only wet. I-no approached her slowly, looking down at her like a predator stalking her prey. The look on her face made the samurai apprehensive about what was to come. Why couldn’t Faust just change them both! “Oh, but funny business is the best business~” I-no teased her, continuing to trace her finger along the woman’s thigh. Baiken twitched, her expression staying hard as stone. “Feh, fine.” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “I’ll change your diaper, pouty pants.” she continued to tease with a huff. Clearly, that was not the reaction I-no had hoped for. “You’re no fun; you really should lighten up.” she said, ripping open the soggy diaper. Baiken continued to glare at her, remaining silent as the all too familiar smell of urine tickled her nose again. “Oh dear, you really soaked your diaper.” I-no commented, tugging the diaper out from under her and rolling the used diaper up. She paused, holding the used diaper in her hands. “Mmm, it’s still warm~” she teased, kneading her fingers into the plastic shell. Baiken’s expression shifted to one of revulsion. “You pervert! Put that down!” she growled. I-no laughed, “I knew I could change your mood.” she continued, letting the diaper fall from her hand with a wet splat. “Disgust is hardly an improvement!” the pink haired woman argued. I-no just smirked as she plucked a wipe out of the box. Unlike Faust, whose clinical approach was quick and efficient, the raven-haired she-devil took her time. Even her touch was more delicate. It was surprisingly pleasant. The relentless samurai’s expression melted. She bit her lip restlessly, shifting away from her touch. I-no said nothing, simply tending to her duties, not letting Baiken shift away from her so easily. “Stop squirming.” I-no scolded her. The changing continued; I-no brought the wipe ever so teasingly across Baiken’s slit. Her eye widened, her heart rate quickened; “S...stop that!” she snapped at I-no. “Just being thorough~” she said, dismissing her warning. Baiken took a deep breath as she continued. I-no tossed the wipe away, grabbing a fresh one. Resuming her mischievous ministrations the cleanup resumed as normal, working her way down to the woman’s bottom. When her guard was down once again, she felt I-no’s slender digit pushing ever so gently into her tight hole. She curled her toes, arching her back. I-no giggled quietly, pushing her finger in and out ever so slightly. “I’m surprised a repressed, angry sow like you enjoys this~” she teased, pressing her finger even deeper. Baiken let out an accidental moan, quickly covering her mouth and wriggling forward. Panting for breath, she sat up, glowering at the woman. “I did NOT!” she spat! “No, of course not.” I-no giggled, unfolding a fresh diaper for her. “You’re all clean cutie~” I-no winked. “Just have to put this diaper on.” she said, unfolding the garment for her. “I’ll do it myself!” Baiken insisted, clearly having had enough. I-no shrugged, laying the diaper on the table for her. Contenting herself by rubbing the front of her diaper, she bucked her hips against her hand, letting out a sultry moan. Baiken growled angrily as she maneuvered herself on top of the garment. From outside, face still pressed against the window, Faust banged on the glass. “Nooooo, no funny business!” he scolded I-no. She turned and pouted at the window whilst Baiken struggled with the diaper. “Damned thing.” she cursed under her breath. She’d managed to get the front tugged up but with only one arm she could hardly keep it tugged tightly against her skin to fasten the tapes. The end result was a poorly fitted diaper. I-no examined her handywork, clucking her tongue. Baiken felt so small, unable to even put on a diaper herself. She sniffled, eyes watering in shame. “J...just fix it.” she growled, turning her head away. “Of course dear~” I-no said airily, taking a few moments to readjust the tapes. “All done~” she commented, patting the front of her diaper with a faint crinkle. “My turnnnn~” she announced. Hopping onto the table with a noisy squelch, she gasped with pleasure as she wiggled her hips around. Baiken stared at her dumbfounded by the act. Each time she’d climbed onto the changing table it had been with all the grace and caution she could muster to avoid doing what I-no had just done. “I have to clean that up!” she growled at her. “I know, I’m soooo naughty. You should give me a spanking~” she toyed with her. Baiken trembled with anger, barely able to restrain herself. “Pervert.” she spat, ripping the diaper off, staring at what she had to clean up. Was this what Faust had to deal with every time she… Baiken couldn’t bring herself to think of it; cheeks blushing a fiery red. “Just sit still.” she growled, retrieving a handful of the cleansing wipes. Mercifully, it seemed I-no was finally calmed down. She let Baiken tend to her filth covered hips with little interruption. Her head lolled to the side and she looked like she was in another world, overcome with euphoria. One hand made the task even more arduous. Fortunately, I-no did as she asked, turning this way and that when requested. “An excellent display of teamwork!” Faust exclaimed, poking his head in through the door. “I’m leaving.” Baiken growled, storming past the insane man, leaving I-no and the doctor in her wake. Faust watched her as she stomped towards her room. “She changed her own diaper!” he exclaimed proudly. “Poorly~” I-no interjected. “It was her first!” he continued, refusing to be discouraged. Arriving in her room she slammed the door shut. The resounding crack causing her to jump at the unexpected volume, losing a spurt of liquid into her diaper. Baiken tossed herself into her bed, burying her face in her pillow and slamming her fist into the mattress. It wasn’t fair, none of it was fair! She smashed her fist down again letting out her rage. Punching the plush mattress didn’t help. She lay there wallowing in self-pity for a while. Frustrated with Dr. Faust’s ridiculous method, angry with I-no for her unsightly advances, and most of all, frustrated with herself for continuing to have accidents. Towards the end of the evening there was a knock on the door. “Go away.” she growled. Faust ignored her and poked his bag-covered head in anyway. “Just checking to see if you need a change before bed.” he asked. She sat up on her bed and glared at him. “No.” she spat. Subtly working her hand between her thighs, her diaper told another story: soaked. “...yes” she said, the venom in her voice ebbing. “As long as it’s you and not that devil pervert.” she growled, tugging her kimono to the sides exposing the sodden diaper around her hips. He nodded, quickly changing the woman. There was a flurry of movement. She could hardly even follow his motions. The old diaper removed, she was quickly wiped down and before she could blink a fresh diaper was taped snugly around her hips. “There, all ready for bed.” Faust announced. Baiken exhaled, blowing stray pink hair from her face. “I’m not a child. I’m probably older than you.” she grumbled, turning over and flopping back down on her bed. “Of course, of course.” he responded, quickly departing. Her nightmares returned that evening. Gears haunted her sleep, That Man just two steps ahead of her blade, and his toy… I-no. Jets of hot urine continuously poured into her padding as she twitched and cowered in her dreams. Her final dream had her nearly defeated, cowering at I-no’s feet; deafened by the roaring crescendo of her guitar. With her sword shattered to pieces, she scrambled back from the woman. I-no sauntered towards her, swaying her hips seductively. “Is the little girl scared, going to potty in her pants~” she teased as she continued to step closer and closer. Baiken swallowed; as she clambered away from the woman she was leaving a trail of urine through her wraps. A wall appeared behind her impeding her escape. The stream of piss intensified, a golden arc spraying through her wrappings. The wet fabric clung to her vulva as the monster drew ever closer. The red leather clad woman loomed above her, eyes glowing menacingly. “I’m not going to kill you yet~” she whispered seductively. “We have plenty of time to play first~” she cooed. She quivered, feeling her anus go lax just as her bladder had. The sound of a moist, sticky bowel movement filled the air as her wraps filled with shit. Ropes lashed around her ankles and wrists, pulling her to a standing position. I-no yanked her kimono away with ease, tossing it over her shoulder. Baiken stood restrained in front of the dark haired woman still pooping her panties. “Oh, you did, you really did go potty in your pants~” I-no teased, thrusting her hand between the pink-haired woman’s legs and feeling the warm liquid running over her fingers. Baiken couldn’t stop herself; I-no’s touch was electric. She let out a guttural moan. “Oh… oh gods… don’t.. Don’t touch me like that.” Baiken protested, bucking her hips against I-no’s hand even as she objected. I-no giggled, pressing her fingers against the sopping wet fabric. Digging her fingertips against the woman’s cunt, I-no continued her assault. One hand groped her large breast, now hanging freely. “You’re such a little potty pants.” she teased, leaning forward and nibbling on her ear. “And you’re always going to be a little potty pants~” she continued, licking her ear as she worked her fingers through the fabric of her wraps and finding her target. Baiken moaned even louder. “I’m not… I’m not…” she whined, panting as I-no thrust her fingers deep inside her. Anything else she was going to say was lost in a surge of pleasure. She slumped against the restraints, quivering as I-no played with her chest and fingered her. “Tell me how good it feels, how you just love being a little potty pants~” I-no teased, digging her nails into the woman’s breast. Baiken shook her head, a tendril of drool dribbling from the corner of her mouth. “You’ll admit it soon enough~” I-no whispered ominously. Her hand left the woman’s more than generous chest, finding a new target. Baiken shuddered, arching her back. It felt like she’d just sat in warm, thick, mud. The paste squished up her bottom, filling the space between her cheeks as I-no pressed her palm against her, flattening the bulge. “Just tell me you love it, and I’ll take you to heaven.” I-no whispered, groping the woman’s soiled bottom and squelching the barely contained mess within. “N...no I… oh… nnnng” she moaned again, pressing her forehead against I-no’s shoulder. “Oh fuck…. Fuck…” she growled, her hips rocking with every thrust of I-no’s hand. “That’s right, you’re my little potty pants, you’re my little potty pants~” Baiken snapped awake with a start, a cold sweat matting the hair to her forehead. “You’re my little potty pants~” she heard. Ice water flooded her veins. I-no, the viper, was coiled around her. Her hand was as it had been in the dream, kneading her large chest. Digging her fingers into her fleshy breasts, the sensation hurt, but it felt so good. I-no’s other hand was buried down the front of her pissy diaper, fingers thrusting deep inside her. All of a sudden it hit her; an overwhelming, mind shattering climax. She slumped over in the bed, arching her back as she writhed around. How long had it been since the last time… she couldn’t even remember. She opened her mouth to speak, to protest, to say anything, but all that came out was a jumbled mess of grunts, moans, and gasps. She could feel everything; the sodden padding of her night time diaper, the mushed load in the seat, the wet sheets she’d leaked into. All of it coming together as part of her first sexual release in quite a while. I-no purred in her ear, “Such a good girl~” Baiken lay helpless on the bed, her chest heaving with each passionate breath. I-no withdrew her hand from the woman’s diaper with a crude, wet noise. “I’ll tell Faust he has a very messy girl who needs changing~” she cooed, sauntering away from the woman before she could recover. Shutting the door behind her, she disappeared back into the night, leaving Baiken to wonder if she was still dreaming. An aftershock of pleasure rippled through her body, coaxing another moan from her lips. She couldn’t resist pressing her hand against the front of her diaper, moaning at the hot sensation provided by the urine soaked padding. “Oh… oh fuck…” she moaned under her breath before letting her hand fall away, revolted with herself. With I-no dealt with she lay there, frozen in the afterglow of the experience. What had just transpired…. That pervert! Baiken couldn’t believe that she’d actually cum. She gnashed her teeth with irritation; tomorrow she was going to make her pay. “Pervert, demon!” she shouted, sitting up with a wet squelch and feeling the mush squish against her. It oozed noticeably from the cuffs of the diaper. She pouted angrily until Faust showed up as I-no promised with a fresh diaper and a change of sheets. After that eventful rousing she managed to eke out a few more hours of sleep. Once again she woke to a sodden diaper and, fortunately, no I-no in sight. Staring up at the ceiling, she couldn’t even be sure it had happened. Maybe it had all been a disgusting, perverse dream… but it felt real. She shut her eyes and let herself fall back into the mattress. Baiken knew it wasn’t a dream, but she hoped it had been. At least this diaper hadn’t leaked; small victory… Swinging her legs over the edge of the bed she slowly pulled herself up. It was an almost pleasant sensation; the sodden diaper hanging between her hips, squishing warmly against her thighs. Leaving her room, kimono loosely hanging around her shoulders, she wandered off to find Faust for a diaper change. She must have wet recently. Taking a moment to press her fingers into the gel-like material between her legs she gauged the wetness… soaked. Of course she was soaked. Baiken cursed under her breath; why was she even bothering… A faint grumble from her stomach brought a grimace to her face. She needed to relieve herself like normal. Why bother holding it… she huffed and squatted in the middle of the hallway. Spreading her thighs wide she gave a quiet grunt, and with the faintest of effort a heavy, mushy weight filled the back of her diaper. The physical relief was fantastic, but moments after doing her dirty deed the proud woman was filled with shame. What was she thinking!? What kind of samurai willingly just messed herself like that? She slowly stood, chastising herself as she pressed her hand against the sagging bulge in the seat of her already soaked diaper. “uhg...” she moaned, a disgusted tone in her voice. She began the loaded walk of shame to go find Dr. Faust; hopefully I-no could be avoided. If she found her wandering the halls in a full diaper who knows what lewd things she might try. Fortunately, I-no was nowhere to be found. “Hopefully she died in her sleep.” Baiken said with a sneer. Walking into the changing room gave Baiken her answer. On the table lay I-no, a visibly soiled diaper taped around her hips. Faust looked up from his work, about to tear the tapes open. “Welcome, Ms. Baiken. I-no, you can change your own diaper. I’m going to assist Baiken with her diaper.” he said moving over to the second changing table, patting the top. I-no narrowed her eyes and huffed, clearly desiring the attention. “That’s not fair, I was here first!” she pouted playfully. “She has a genuine need of my services!” he countered sharply. Baiken could only think of the intentional mess she made as she waddled over to the changing table. “Alright, just get me cleaned up.” she growled, carefully lowering herself onto the table. “A “please” would be appreciated for all my hard work!” he said with faux indignation as he set to work. Once again, he did the task she had grown all too accustomed to. Baiken pouted on the table, folding her arm over her chest proudly while Faust toiled over the dirty work. “Oh goodness, look at how messy you are, Baiken~” I-no cooed, having rolled onto her side so she could watch the proceedings unfold. “I’m jealous, I want to change her again!” she huffed. Faust bent over backwards, staring at the woman. “Ms. Baiken has clearly expressed her distaste for that, and I can’t say that I blame her!” he said, rejecting her request. Baiken breathed a sigh of relief when Faust denied I-no another chance to be lewd with her… Wipe by wipe she slowly felt her backside become clean. One advantage to having squatted and deliberately soiled herself was that it hadn’t squished all over her skin. With minimal fuss, a fresh diaper was placed under her muscular hips, and a rain of powder signified the end of her change before he taped the diaper shut. “All done, but if you wouldn’t mind, please wait until I-no is finished with her change.” he asked politely. Baiken frowned; she wanted nothing to do with that witch! “Must I?” she growled. “You must!” Faust responded enthusiastically. I-no had hopped up from the table, apparently having changed herself already. “Oh, I’m done~” she said, with a wink directed towards Baiken. “It’s a shame I didn’t have your strong hands helping me, Baiken~” she flirted. Dr. Faust rubbed the bag covering his head in frustration. “What on earth am I going to do with you two...” he said with a sigh. “Don’t lump me in with her!” Baiken protested. I-no giggled like a schoolgirl. “I don’t know, you make plenty of lumps yourself~” she teased. Baiken’s cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. “Shut up!” she hissed angrily. “Calm yourselves! I won’t tolerate fighting!” he cried, standing between them. “I have a task for you both before class today.” Baiken blinked. “I’m listening….” she said cautiously. “Yes, a wonderful task!” Faust concluded with more excitement than necessary. “One of great importance as well.” he added. Baiken was skeptical, while I-no simply looked amused. “I don’t know how you expect me to accomplish anything with this pervert hounding me.” Baiken growled, shooting a glare at I-no. “Consider it a test! Yes, a test…of teamwork!” he improvised. “I’ve been running low on medical supplies. One of my distributors had their last shipment intercepted. Critical that I have it! It was another order of your protective garments.” Baiken twitched in irritation while I-no’s eyes shone with glee. My contact said the bandits were…Oh, where were they?” he asked, scratching his head. Opening his jacket he pulled out a map, slamming it down on the table. “Ahh, yes.” he paused, pointing his finger to a small set of caves. “Here. Not too far, only a couple miles from town.” Surely the monster of a man could handle it himself, but Baiken licked her lips. Finally, the chance for violence, enough to sate her desire to unleash her frustration. No more splitting logs in the courtyard. “Oh, and before I forget, here’s your sword.” he said, rummaging around in his coat before retrieving the finely crafted blade. “and here’s your guitar.” he said, repeating the process, this time retrieving I-no’s deadly teal guitar, handing each of them their respective weapons. “Probably best that you’re out today; I have a new client.” he said dismissively. I-no’s eyes glittered for a moment, Baiken just shrugged. “and before I forget a second time….” he chuckled as he handed Baiken her satchel. “I packed you both a diaper bag with plenty of spares.” “Ohhh, how thoughtful~” I-no said graciously, Baiken simply scoffed. “Have some food, and off you go.” he said, gesturing to the door, shooing them away. I-no ran her fingers up the fretboard briefly playing a fast scale. Baiken pulled the sword part way from its sheath, letting it slide back in when she was satisfied. No sooner had they left the room, Faust’s full nine-foot form loomed menacingly behind them. His paper bag looked even more ominous than usual. “and no fighting between you two. I’ll know.” he promised ominously. Both women felt a dribble of urine spurt into their padding. Baiken couldn’t be more eager to get out. I-no simply tagged along behind her, every so often making flirtatious advances which Baiken quickly shot down. The walk had taken its toll on Baiken’s diaper. After the hour and a half long trek she could start to feel a rash forming; the result of multiple accidents of varying severity. A gentle breeze had wafted through a nearby field of flowers, carrying with it a heavy dusting of pollen. The resulting sneezing fit had left the pink- haired woman gushing piss into her diaper with every convulsion. The very same breeze had knocked loose a boulder from a nearby cliffside, and the thunderous crash of falling rocks nearby had caused her to lose all bladder control, noisily flooding her diaper in front of I-no, who simply watched with a predatory smile. The sudden noises had also coaxed a small muddy lump into her diaper as well. Later, a deer had sprung into the path, once again startling the woman; the lump in her diaper swelled considerably after that. The final indignity occurred when, passing by a glassy pond, she caught a glimpse of her own reflection. Thinking it an ambush, she emptied the rest of her bowels in fright. “They’re just beyond that tree line.” I-no mused, peering out from behind a thick oak. “I think we should change before attacking.” I-no announced. Baiken frowned “I’m fine.” she lied. I-no folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “No you’re not, I can smell your dirty diaper from here~!” she teased. ”If it was anyone but you, I would.” she growled. I-no simply shrugged “we have a mission to complete.” she continued. “No funny business, I promise~” she said with a smirk. Baiken shifted from foot to foot, judging the state of her diaper.” “Fine”, she acquiesced. “I don’t hear anyone around, just… get it over with quickly.” Baiken growled, quickly lowering herself onto the ground. An errant branch caught the cuff of her kimono, pulling open the top as she lowered herself. With a surprised yelp she felt her buxom chest pop out of her clothing, giving I-no quite the sight. “Oh my, and I thought you didn’t want any funny business~” I-no teased as she rummaged in Baiken’s satchel, retrieving the supplies and a fresh diaper for the woman. As she lay there she could see under I-no’s short crimson skirt. The diaper she’d changed into was clearly wet, yellowed between her legs. “You’re wet too!” Baiken exclaimed. The black haired woman snickered. “I know that, I’ve been piddling into my diaper the whole way.” she said with a moan, “Keeping it nice and warm.” she continued before cleaning up after the incontinent woman. “Pervert.” Baiken accused. I-no simply smirked. “Better a pervert than a grown woman who can’t hold her water~” she countered. Baiken mumbled something unintelligible under her breath before going quiet. With her and I-no both changed they were ready. “Fortissimo~” I-no shouted as she practically flew into battle riding her teal guitar. Deafening music poured forth as she plunged forward without a second thought. Baiken sprinted after her, cursing under her breath. Leaping into battle, her sword leapt from its sheath, running a charging robber through with a spray of blood. Disorganized, unprepared, outmatched. They hardly stood a chance against the two women. I-no’s less than traditional method of combat and Baiken’s superior swordsmanship cut through the bandits in no time flat. A few close calls had left Baiken’s diaper moist between her legs. “What’s that ruckus all about!?” a large figure emerged from the cave, shouting in surprise. “What the hell do you think you’re doing!?” he roared, stomping towards I-no. Unlike his grunts it seemed he’d provide more of a challenge. “What do you think we’re doing!” Baiken shot back, equally bad tempered. He hefted a large axe in his hands and swung it square at I-no’s neck. She ducked, her tall hat narrowly avoiding being cleaved in half by the blow. Sliding forward, her hands glowed with the magic of sound as she moved to strike. Before she could counterattack the butt of the axe sent her flying back into a nearby tree. Rubbing her head she adjusted her hat, glowering at the man who was laughing at the sight of her skirt having ridden up. Her anger subsided into a moan of pleasure as she felt her padding growing sodden between her legs. A genuine moment of fright. She shuddered with enjoyment, pressing her hand against the yellowed garment and squishing it against her flesh. “Oooh~” she moaned, if only this were the time for such things. Baiken quickly closed the distance, hurling her chain hook at him. He caught the hook with the handle of his axe, catching her off guard with the maneuver. Baiken yelped in surprise as she stumbled forward. His fist caught her in the gut with a heavy whump. The painful immpact drove the breath from her lungs and left her diaper heavy around her hips. Somewhere in the back of her mind she was dimly aware of a poopy mess pressing against her cheeks and an uncontrollable stream of piss gushing into her diaper. He wrinkled his nose as the smell immediately assaulted his senses. “Uhg, disgusting little brat!” he spat as she hunched over in front of him clutching her stomach. She grunted in pain, trembling as she forced another squishy lump into her diaper. He swung his fist again, though this time she narrowly managed to avoid it. Stumbling backwards, her kimono caught on a branch, sending her falling onto her bottom with a loud squelch. Baiken retched in disgust, feeling the warm mush rising up her bottom and threatening to spill out over the top of the waistband. Perhaps even worse was the guffawing from the bandit leader as he got a good look at the thick, well used diaper around her hips. “You, wearing diapers?” he laughed again, spitting on the ground. “Those supplies must have been for a pissy little girl like you then.” he growled, advancing on her. Her cheeks were crimson with embarrassment. A crescendo of noise exploded as I-no reappeared behind him, cracking the man over the back of the head. He staggered forward, dazed from the strike, and Baiken was on her feet in a flash. The tip of her blade erupted from his back with a spray of blood. He twitched for a moment as the life disappeared from his eyes before collapsing to the ground. Baiken whipped the blood from her blade placing it back in her sheath glaring at I-no. Grabbing the woman by the neck, she shoved her back against a tree. The distracted glow she’d been encompassed by whilst enjoying the feelings of her soggy diaper disappeared as the pink haired woman assailed her. She squirmed, choking for breath as Baiken’s fingers dug deeper into the flesh of her neck. “I should kill you for what you did to me.” she spat, squeezing a little harder. I-no flailed frantically. She wheezed, desperately trying to inhale. There was a familiar noise, Baiken could hear it. A wet crackling, popping, squishing noise. The raven-haired woman was soiling herself. This was a genuine accident in her diaper; there wasn’t any acting here. Baiken smirked, satisfied with herself. Relinquishing her grip she let I-no fall to her knees as she inhaled deeply. The glimpse of terror on her face had been a satisfying revenge. “Come on, let’s get the supplies and go.” she growled, marching towards the cave. From behind her she could hear I-no moaning loudly, the crinkling of a wet diaper being rubbed audible. “Ooooh, such a dirty girl. You made me poop my diaper~” she cried lustfully. Baiken twitched with irritation at her enjoyment of the situation. “Just get over here!” she snapped. I-no giggled seductively as she moved to assist the pink-haired woman, unable to resist making comments about the state of their dirty diapers. It was a long trek back, and with all the supplies it was slow going. Baiken refused to let I-no change her diaper, and I-no didn’t *want* to change out of her diaper, which made things even slower. By the time the pair had returned to Faust’s compound they’d completely missed class, which earned them a reprimand. Still, Faust was grateful that they had retrieved the supplies, late as they were. The reward was a long overdue change for them both. I-no considered it more of a punishment however. Baiken’s thighs were smeared brown, and having wet at least twice more on the walk home the sodden garment was far past its capacity. A warm bath was waiting in her future! Baiken excused herself, walking quickly to the bathroom where she could run herself a steaming hot bath. It felt good not to be confined in a diaper for the first time in a few days. Tossing her kimono aside, she slowly lowered herself into the water with a moan of relief. All her troubles seemed to melt away in the scalding water. She shut her eye, the steam making her sleepy. Sleep came unintentionally as she lounged in the tub. The sound of the door opening roused her with a start. The water between her legs yellowed for a moment as she looked up in surprise. A woman with lengthy blond hair stepped into the room, freezing when she saw Baiken in the tub. She stared for a moment, a nearly imperceptible blush coloring her cheeks. “…Sorry.” she murmured before Baiken growled at her. “Out… now.” she snapped. From her low position in the tub she could see up the intruders skirt. The leggings hid little. She too was wearing... something. The gusset appeared slightly swollen. It wasn't one of the comically large diapers Baiken was made to wear, but it wasn't panties. She left as suddenly as she appeared, and once more Baiken was left to her thoughts. Some hours later, Baiken finally returned to her room. A fresh diaper waited for her on her bed. She sneered at it. What a mockery, she’d dealt with that bandit just fine. Things would have gone even better if I-no hadn’t charged in without a thought! She grabbed it and hurled the garment across the room with a huff. Unfolding midair, it hit the wall with a gentle crinkle; not at all satisfying. Reminiscing on the past couple of days she found herself growing angrier and angrier. “What a joke!” she growled, knowing what she had to do. I-no had clearly snapped, and would be no help in finding That Man. This was all just a superfluous distraction; she would deal with her problems her way! Using her sword, she cut a long strip of cloth from the bed sheets, wrapping it tightly around her hips. “Much better.” she said proudly as she gathered her belongings. Escape was a simple matter. Out the window, slide down the roofing tiles and… she paused on the edge of the roof. Her ears twitched. Faint moans echoed through the thin walls. It must have been coming from I-no’s room… that perverted witch. She bit her lip, reminded of the feeling of I-no’s hand plunged down the front of her diaper. It made her knees go weak for a moment. No… she wasn’t a perverted wretch like her! She jumped from the edge of the roof, landing softly. Gravity worked against her, causing a spurt to dampen her makeshift undergarments. Setting out into the night, she vowed that she would improve without Faust’s help, even as a glittering rivulet ran down her thigh. She’d show him and that witch and whoever that blonde woman was!
  14. Sapphire3619

    female Her Favorite Student

    This was a request from @sandiego78. I don't do a lot of female wetting, but I *do* do a lot of hurt/comfort! Enjoy! *** Stella Bettio stumbled, breathless, into the classroom at the end of the hall, sliding into her seat just as the bell rang. Panting, she initially stared down at her lap, but then shyly looked up to see an encouraging smile from Miss Heston. Cherice Heston was only in her second year of teaching English Literature at Linville High School. She definitely felt more confident than she did in her first year, but she still didn’t feel completely settled and authoritative. There were still plenty of things students did and said that could catch her off guard. Still, Cherice loved her job, and loved getting to know her students, and Stella was one of her current favorites. Stella was an 18-year-old senior, tiny but strong. Yes, she was a good student – quiet, a trait always appreciated by English teachers – but Cherice had developed a close relationship with Stella over the year. A short woman herself, Cherice had recognized a fellow gymnast in Stella the first day of classes. When Stella took to stopping by Cherice’s classroom after school to discuss the finer points of The Handmaid’s Tale, Cherice was eventually able to work gymnastics into the conversation and got confirmation that, yes, Stella had trained at a very high level for a very long time. It had taken months for Cherice to get more of the full story, and when she did, it was told in an almost casual way. Cherice had formed her hypotheses, of course, mistreatment of young girls in intense training situations being so common, unfortunately, but she knew that she wasn’t entitled to Stella’s story. It had been a chilly afternoon in late November, just after Thanksgiving break, when Stella had calmly mentioned some of what her former coach had done to her. Cherice had started to say how sorry she was, but Stella had just very deliberately moved onto another part of the conversation, making it clear that she wasn’t up for a dialogue. She’d mentioned a few more things over the following weeks, but only ever as one-offs, horrific tidbits thrown into otherwise standard conversations. Cherice came to understand that pretty much no one in the entire school knew what Stella had gone through and that Stella was sharing exactly as much as she was comfortable with. So Cherice continued to welcome the student into her classroom after school, where they would chat over a jigsaw puzzle (Cherice loved puzzles and always kept one in her classroom – at least 1000 pieces – for her students to work on if they needed a break). Cherice was determined to provide the kind of support that Stella needed, even if that meant shutting up and not asking any questions. So it didn’t cross Cherice’s mind to ask why Stella was almost late to class, not that she’d ever call her out on it, anyway. She just proceeded with her lesson – they were in the middle of Last of the Mohicans – leading the class in a discussion of colonialism. In her seat, Stella could barely pay attention to the information. She never cut it so close getting to Miss Heston’s class, but today, Señora Cortez had kept her after class for a few extra minutes to talk about the AP Spanish exam. Of course, it made her feel bad that she was almost late to English, but more importantly, she had missed her midday bathroom break. Stella shifted in her seat, settling in as much as the old, hard desk would allow. English was her last class before lunch, and because she had the latest lunch period, she couldn’t always wait until then to use the restroom. Because the Spanish and English classrooms were in the same hallway, she’d developed a habit of going to the bathroom between those two classes, taking a quick pee before going to Miss Heston’s class. Today, she missed that chance and was now sitting nervously in her desk, frantically trying to figure out if she’d be able to make it the whole 50 minutes of class. Under other circumstances – that is, if her bladder was exactly this full, but she wasn’t at school, and she wasn’t aware that she’d just been denied a regular opportunity to use the bathroom – Stella would have almost certainly been fine. But now, the anxiety of being in class (even though she sat in the back) was causing her need to spike, and she was uncomfortably desperate. And they were only five minutes into class. Stella tried to focus. She genuinely liked Last of the Mohicans; Miss Heston would occasionally give them quiet reading time in class, and she’d play the soaring, violin-heavy score from the movie adaptation with Daniel Day-Lewis. Stella knew that a lot of her classmates got bored with the excessive descriptions of nature, but she liked being able to picture the vast settings. Today, however, she couldn’t do it. She rarely participated in class discussion, but she was almost always attentive, listening to her classmates' comments and questions. She often bring up her own ideas after school, during her visits to Miss Heston’s classroom, but today, all of her attention was on her bladder. Her thoughts were sliding, careening toward a dark place as class went on, and she couldn’t control them. The remaining rational part of her brain as telling her that she was 18, not 8, and that needing to pee wasn’t a moral failure. But the deeply-ingrained part of her that said that she had to hold it or else was becoming more powerful. And more terrifying. Cherice tried not to look at Stella too much as she taught; she didn’t want to draw attention to the girl. But Stella was clearly uncomfortable, at best. She hadn’t looked up from her desk once, and she looked tense and fidgety. Cherice was starting to worry. In the back of the room, Stella wound her fingers together under the desk. There was still a half hour left in class, and all she could think about was getting to the bathroom. Well, more accurately, all she could think about was not having an accident. Stella was slipping. With every second that ticked by, she was drawn further and further back to her old gym, her coach standing on the mats, alternating between booming shouts and unnerving growls. Then, in private lessons, his voice would flip to low and silky, a voice that 8-year-olds should never hear. She always wanted to please him, to make him happy, yearning for those instances when he would look genuinely pleased and proud of her. Of course, those moments were few and far between, and she spent much more time feeling like she did now – sweaty, tense, and scared. She hated that feeling and thought she’d gotten past it, but here she was, a senior in high school, sitting in class with her favorite teacher, utterly unsure of whether or not she’d be able to make it to the end of class with her underwear dry. Stella’s shifting took on a more obvious quality, and Cherice realized that her student had to use the restroom. The teacher’s thoughts raced as she tried to balance teaching with her concern for Stella. She was convinced that calling Stella out, asking her to go on some errand or something, would only embarrass the girl and possibly damage the trust in their relationship. Perhaps should could think of some excuse to let class out a few minutes early… “…but if Magua is the bad guy, then how are we supposed to understand the impact of colonialism?” another student was asking. Cherice blinked, grateful for her familiarity with both the class and the source material. “That’s a great question,” she replied, risking another glance back toward Stella, who still hadn’t lifted her head, “and many people don’t actually stop to consider anything beyond just a single ‘bad guy’ in a story…” Stella was only vaguely aware that Miss Heston was talking and certainly wasn’t internalizing any of the lesson. She desperately wanted to hold herself, to shove a hand between her legs. There was no doubt that such an action would have made it certain that she’d last until the end of class, but she just couldn’t do it. What are you doing?! Filthy girl! Get your hands away from yourself! Shuddering at the unbidden memory, Stella clenched her hands under her desk. She was definitely shaking now, and perilously close to being too lost in her old trauma to even focus on the implications of losing control of her urine in a high school classroom. Dirty brat… Up front, Cherice would have sworn she saw tears in Stella’s eyes. She wanted to help so badly, but hadn’t been able to think of a reasonable solution. She couldn’t let the class go early, because some of the students weren’t going to lunch, and she’d get in trouble if she let them loose in the hallways, and she’s already dismissed any thought of singling out Stella and letting her leave (not that Cherice had been able to think of a good lie as a cover for that story, anyway). All she could do was hope that Stella could hang on for the last few minutes of class. Glancing at the clock, Cherice started to wind down the discussion. She hated the thought of cutting off curious and engaged students, but she didn’t want to end up in a situation where the class ran over. She wanted to make sure the students – well, Stella, obviously – could stand up as soon as the bell rang. There were just five minutes left in class, and Cherice could tell her plan was working. Most of the students were shuffling at their desks, making the kind of unsubtle movements that meant they wanted to start packing up their things, but hadn’t gotten permission just yet. Cherice refrained from sighing in relief as she finished answering one more question. “I think we’ll stop here for today,” she said authoritatively with three minutes left before the bell. Instantly, the noise in the room amplified as students started openly picking up their things. Cherice allowed herself a small smile. She’d made it, she’d- “Oh my god!” A burst of noise, different than the general sounds of shuffling, arose from the back of the room. Cherice’s stomach dropped as she saw a bunch of eyes fixed on the still-seated Stella. Pale yellow liquid streamed down all sides of Stella’s chair. The girl stared at her desk, not quite oblivious to the snickering of her classmates. “What the hell?” “Miss Heston, can you…” Another girl gestured unnecessarily toward Stella’s trembling form, a disgusted sneer on her face. Cherice couldn’t speak for a several seconds; she just slowly walked toward the back corner of the room, pushing her way through the smirking, murmuring students. “That’s enough,” Cherice finally said, raising her voice more than she would have liked. “Please line up by the door – class is almost over.” A few students didn’t move right away, but thankfully, the bell rang seconds after Cherice finished speaker, and that was enough to urge the class out the door. The last student, actually looking sympathetic instead of amused, shut the door behind him, muffling the sounds from the filling hallway. Stella’s heart beat so hard, it almost hurt. She wasn’t sure if she was still peeing or not. She hadn’t even really noticed when she’d started – all of a sudden, she’d actually been having an accident instead of barely holding back. Her head spun. It had been a long time since she’d been in front of an authority figure, soaked in pee, but the sensation took her right back to childhood, and she felt like a giant band was being squeezed around her chest. In the relative quiet, Cherice took a step toward Stella. The girl hadn’t moved. She looked positively frozen in place, every muscle in her body clenched, and her breaths were so shallow, Cherice was worried she’d pass out. “Stella…” Cherice whispered, taking another step. Stella twitched at the sound. Even though her head was down, Cherice could see the fine sheen of tears in the girl’s eyes, held in place by sheer will. Or terror. Cherice stood for a second, hand half reached out. She wanted nothing more than wrap the girl into the tightest hug, holding her as long as necessary, but Stella looked utterly petrified, and Cherice knew enough to know that touching her right now would probably make things worse. “Stella,” she said again, even softer. “You’re safe. It’s OK.” Stella quivered from head to toe, but didn’t jerk back, so Cherice slowly and quietly sat in the desk in front of her, facing backward toward her student. “Stella,” she repeated, voice low and soothing. “I promise you’re safe here. No one is going to hurt you. No one is going to get mad. I’m not mad,” she promised earnestly. Stella still didn’t look up, but she looked ever so slightly less tense. “You can stay here as long as you want,” Cherice continued, keeping her voice low and even. “I don’t have a class this period, so you’re safe here.” Finally, cautiously, Stella raised her eyes. Her chin still trembled, and the look she gave Miss Heston was one of pure supplication, silently begging for reprieve, for forgiveness, for mercy. Even as her heart broke, Cherice maintained eye contact, gazing at Stella with every bit of reassurance she could manage. “I promise,” she soothed. “I’m not mad. It’s OK.” Stella stared for another second, and then her face crumbled into quaking, painful sobs. She cried like she was releasing years of bottled up shame and terror through a drinking straw, like she had too much anguish to let out in an orderly fashion. Cherice leaned forward as Stella collapsed onto her desk. The teacher reached out and stroked along the back of Stella’s head, gently running her fingers through the girls hair, whispering reassurances while she cried. “It’s OK, sweetheart, it’s OK. You’ll be OK, don’t worry.” Stella’s entire body heaved as she cried into her arms. For an indeterminate amount of time, teacher and student sat in a half-embrace, the only sound in the classroom Stella’s sobs. “I’m sorryyyyyyy,” she wept, her voice muffled against the desk. “I didn’t m-mean toooooooo!” “Shhhhh,” Cherice whispered, still brushing her hand along Stella’s hair. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Stella. It was just an accident.” Stella cried a little bit harder, feeling the wetness all through her underwear, the fabric of her skirt chilly and sticky beneath her. She’d completely peed herself in high school, in the middle of class. All of her classmates had known what happened, and, as far as they must be concerned, it was for no reason. It’s not like she even asked to go to the bathroom, or was doing anything important. She’d just been sitting in a regular class and decided to pee in her chair like a belligerent toddler. “Please breathe, sweetie,” Cherice pleaded. “It’s going to be OK.” Leaning into Miss Heston’s gentle touch, Stella felt a shiver of release go through her body. She was exhausted from crying and from humiliation, and she knew she was almost all cried out. She inhaled deeply, listening to Miss Heston’s repeated reassurances. With one final sniffle, Stella sat up and looked at the kind, earnest face of her teacher. Stella could tell that Miss Heston wanted to fix things. She probably felt like it was her fault somehow, that she hadn’t done enough to make Stella feel safe, and Stella felt an extra layer of guilt for making her teacher worry. Cherice didn’t speak right away; she let Stella take a few minutes to compose herself (as much as one could while sitting in a puddle of their own making). She did, in fact, want to fix things, but only at Stella’s own pace. “I’m sorry,” Stella finally mumbled, wiping the back of her hand across her nose. “Oh, honey…” Stella shook her head, cutting off Miss Heston’s consolation. “I…” she stammered, “I know that you would have let me have a hall pass, and I’m not, like, scared of you or anything.” Cherice frowned sympathetically. She was at least pleased to hear that Stella hadn’t thought that she would have been denied permission to use the restroom, but she knew that the girl’s trauma ran deeper than that, anyway. Stella looked like she wanted to keep talking, but gulped instead, trying to steady herself. “Honey, is there anything I can do?” Cherice asked, filling the silence. Stella shrugged and wiped at her eyes. “It’s not your fault,” she said, not exactly answering the question. Cherice sighed. She correctly assumed that Stella’s accident was related to what her old coach had done to her, but she wasn’t sure why or how. She figured by now that Stella wasn’t going to offer any more information about her abuse, at least not at the moment, so she decided to try a different tack. “What was different today, honey?” she asked. “I don’t think you’ve ever had to go to the bathroom during my class before.” Stella’s eyes re-watered. The acute humiliation of wetting herself as a senior in high school wasn’t going to go away any time soon, and she had to take another few breaths before she could answer. “I…” she whispered, feeling young and a bit silly, “I usually go after Spanish, but Señora Cortez wanted to talk about the AP exam today, and I didn’t want to be late.” Cherice nodded, grateful for a distinctly solvable problem. Granted, her pending solution would have made a much bigger impact before the girl had an accident in class, but still. “I’m sorry that happened, Stella,” she said quietly. She paused to let her sympathy sink in before offering her suggestion. “If that ever happens again,” she began cautiously, not wanted to actually suggest that Stella would ever be at risk for peeing on herself again, “you can go to the bathroom. You can be late to my class, and I won’t write you up.” Stella bit her lower lip. “Everyone will know,” she whispered. “If I come in late, and you don’t write me up, everyone will know that you’re giving me special treatment because I…” Inhaling, Cherice thought quickly. She patted Stella’s hand and stood up, walking briskly to her own desk at the front of the room. She rifled through a stack of papers until she found the envelope she was looking for. “Here,” she said, handing it to Stella, “keep this with your supplies for my class. It’s a note from the administration, to me. If you ever have to be late again, you pull this out, and we’ll act like you were running an errand for me.” Stella looked up, eyes shining with tears again. “Yeah?” “Yeah,” Cherice promised. “I don’t think you’ll ever have to use it, but we have it, just in case.” Stella sniffled again, taking the envelope. “Thank you,” she whispered. Cherice smiled and held out her hand. “Ready to get cleaned up, honey?” she asked. Glancing down briefly, Stella nodded. She rose to her feet, but started shaking when she saw the full size of her mess. This time, Cherice didn’t hesitate before wrapping the teen in her arms. Stella whimpered against her teacher’s shoulder, still trembly from the emotional demands of the past hour. “You’re OK,” Cherice murmured, holding Stella tightly. “You’re OK.” Stella nodded deliberately, standing up straight, letting Miss Heston release her. The teacher smiled encouragingly, and Stella smiled shakily in return. “I’ll clean up here,” Cherice promised. “You just go take care of yourself. Come get me if you need anything.” Stella nodded again and headed to the door, looking to make sure the hallway was empty before sneaking out to her locker. Cherice watched for a moment after Stella left, then turned back to the puddle on the floor, knowing that the mess she was about to clean up was nothing compared to the mess that Stella had to face in her own mind every day.
  15. desertfc

    female Messenger Teasing

    something a little different for you today. the following is a mock-up of a messenger conversation i had with a friend (we were a couple for a while, but I moved away for work and now we're FWB on and off). she's into omo, but i don't think she's on the site. this is not the actual conversation, by the way, i have substantially rewritten most of it. even so, it's heavily based on our actual conversation, and most of the stuff we talk about really did happen (e.g. this first convo really did start with her talking about her new dog). i got her blessing to write this up here with names i invented for her and her friend and she's even thinking about contributing one herself. anything she writes will most likely be posted here through me, though (so i can make sure she doesn't post anything too compromising haha). so this one below is based on the first time i started to realise that she was into omo herself (she used to like teasing me about omo stuff before that, but i hadn't realised by then that it meant something to her, too). anyway, let me know if you like the idea! - des * * * Tuesday, 9th of June, 2015 Stef 🐶😍 says: heeyyyyy Stef 🐶😍 says: you home? Stef 🐶😍 : guess who turned up today 🤩 des: hey des: oh, your puppy? Stef 🐶😍 : 😊 Stef 🐶😍 : *picture of Tenterfield Terrier pup attached here* Stef 🐶😍 : how cute is he?!! Stef 🐶😍 : you wanna come oer and see him? des: ive got work tonight, you have fun Stef 🐶😍 : so? des: ill come over tomorrow Stef 🐶😍 : havn't you got like two hours before your shift starts? the bar doesnt open til 5 Stef 🐶😍 : i want him to meet dozer!! des: uh des: maybe we want to give it a month or two before introducing himto Dozer des: Dozer would probably eat him 😂 Stef 🐶😍 : yeah, probably... 🙈 Stef 🐶😍 : dozer's a sfotie though 😄 Stef 🐶😍 : *softie Stef 🐶😍 : I want them to be friends!! des: dozer barely tolerates you coming over 😛 des: he almost bit your leg off the first time you were over at mine 😂 Stef 🐶😍 : Yeah omg 😩 that was scary as fuck ahaha i pissed my pants when he ran over barking! 😂 Stef 🐶😍 : he loves me now though 😍😘🐶 des: 😮 des: thats a bit of an exaggeration 😛 des: you wetting yourself, not him loving you!! haha Stef 🐶😍 : hmmm! Stef 🐶😍 : if only you knew 🙊 des: what Stef 🐶😍 : lol Stef 🐶😍 : nah, wasnt that bad Stef 🐶😍 : undies may have been a bit damp when i got home though 😳😜 Stef 🐶😍 : but i didnt like full on wet myself haha des: hmmm okay! Stef 🐶😍 : just a little haha des: thought I would have noticed a puddle 😛 des: I guess you could have blamed it on him being excited! 🤣 Stef 🐶😍 : it was me that was excitedd!!! Stef 🐶😍 : scared anyway!! Stef 🐶😍 : but oh well des: you scare too easily des: you won't even let me take you to a horror movie 😞 Stef 🐶😍 : 😡 Stef 🐶😍 : no horror movies!! Stef 🐶😍 : why do you like them anyway? i hate being scared! des: why'd you come to that zombie puzzle room then? Stef 🐶😍 : puzzle rooms are different 😛 theyre not scary! Stef 🐶😍 : besides i had you there to protect me 😘 des: i'd be there with you in the cinema too! Stef 🐶😍 : 😡 Stef 🐶😍 : no! Stef 🐶😍 : a couple of years back i was staying over at a friends place and we watched the blair witch project Stef 🐶😍 : i have never been so terrified in all my life des: the blair witch project?! 😂 des: your kidding right 😂😂😂 Stef 🐶😍 : 😮 des: its not even scary! Stef 🐶😍 : hey fuck you, man 😡 Stef 🐶😍 : i told you i cant deal with horror movies 😥 Stef 🐶😍 : i had a horrible nightmare after that and I wet the bed 😳🤐 des: haha really?!? Stef 🐶😍 : its not funny!! Stef 🐶😍 : her mum had to wash the sheets in the morning Stef 🐶😍 : i was mortified!! 😳 Stef 🐶😍 : how would you like it if i peed the bed next tme im staying over?! des: 😛 Stef 🐶😍 : i bet youd like that too Stef 🐶😍 : probably gets you off des: hey, you're the one who brought it up! Stef 🐶😍 : dont change the subject! Stef 🐶😍 : i remember when lucy and me came back from the pub the other day and we were both needed the bathroom but you were in there Stef 🐶😍 : you came out and had a tent in your pants! 😂🚀 Stef 🐶😍 : and you were definetely switched on later 😉 des: well, you were away for the week, and it had been a long week des: i was just glad you were home 😍😍 Stef 🐶😍 : sure sure Stef 🐶😍 : anyway, thats not so bad, right Stef 🐶😍 : if you're into it des: hmmm Stef 🐶😍 : your not hurting anyone Stef 🐶😍 : so tomorrow after work Stef 🐶😍 : ill come over Stef 🐶😍 : we can netflix and chill 😛 Stef 🐶😍 : maybe if your lucky i mgiht have a few too many drinkies 😉 Stef 🐶😍 : who knows what might happen!! des: 😮 des: lol do i need to put a plastic sheet down on the couch? 😛 Stef 🐶😍 : SEE?! i knew it! des: knew what? Stef 🐶😍 : 😉 Stef 🐶😍 : just make sure you've got food! ill prob be hungry Stef 🐶😍 : but dont get the turkish again Stef 🐶😍 : we've had that way too much recentley des: I did a shop today, we've got heaps of stuff des: will just cook a curry or something Stef 🐶😍 : okay 😊 Stef 🐶😍 : but not too much chilli this time!!!! Stef 🐶😍 : i dont wanna be running for the bathroom!! des: you'll have to anyway if you're having all those drinks 😛 Stef 🐶😍 : hmmm maaaaayybe Stef 🐶😍 : or i might have other ideas 😛 des: 😮 Stef 🐶😍 : but still keep the curry mild for me please 🙂 des: i know! i know! des: spice wimp 😛 Stef 🐶😍 : 😂 Stef 🐶😍 : laters. see you tomorrow 😘 * * *
  16. I saw Ashe, and knew what I had to do. This story also includes some fine art of our favorite cowgirl done by Livinginfinite. You can see more of his excellent art on his tumblr: https://thelivinginfinite.tumblr.com/ There will be a part 2, I just decided to split it up because it was really long and it was taking too much time, so I figured I'd just post the first Ashe part for now. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “All right, saddle up, everyone!” The commanding voice of Ashe issued over the clamor of the Deadlock gang. The various thieves, crooks, outlaws and other vagabonds stopped in their tracks as they heard the voice of their leader, “We got a score, and soon. I want every gun loaded, every bomb prepped, and I want everyone to know the plan!” Ashe stood atop a tall stack of crates, overlooking the crowd gathering in front of her. Her colossal Omnic guardian stood to the side, watching on. There was not a peep from the gang once Ashe took the stage; everyone in the Deadlock knew better than to piss off their fierce leader. There was no shortage of tales of her chaotic, spiteful and vengeful nature. Everyone in the gang knew that Ashe’d have Bob wring their necks if they so much as looked at her funny. Ashe, naturally, adored the fear and respect her underlings had for her. She began to outline their plan; it was a relatively simple one, just a smash-and-grab on a nearby bank. However, as Ashe laid out the plan to her crew, she began to feel the urge to pee, and this was a problem for her. She was one of the last people you might think would have troubles with any sort of bathroom matters, but you’d be in for a surprise. Years of fighting, drinking, firefights, and explosives had taken their toll on Ashe, and left her with certain… “weaknesses” in regards to her bladder and bowels. Weaknesses that required the young woman to wear diapers. No one except for Bob knew about her protection, and she aimed to keep it that way. Fortunately for her, her long coat obscured anyone’s view of her rear, preventing them from seeing the bulky garment bulging through her pants. Still, though, Ashe greatly preferred to avoid using the thing when in front of her crew, which became a problem as she felt her need to relieve herself rising. She had very little control over her bladder, and in the middle of her speech, she felt the space between her legs begin to grow hot and soggy. Her cheeks reddened, and she found herself stuttering slightly while speaking. She cleared her throat, and continued speaking, doing her best to ignore the fact that she was still urinating on herself. Her diaper happily soaked up her pee, growing and swelling as it did so. The hot wetness spread around, thoroughly saturating her privates before travelling to her backside and soaking into the fabric there. Astoundingly, she was still peeing, too. Ashe was just wrapping up her speech when she felt something that nearly made her heart stop: a drop of urine slowly winding down her thigh. Her diaper was leaking. “Er, and that’s about everything,” Ashe hastily concluded her speech, “So start gettin’ ready, we’re headin’ out ASAP!” She jumped down off the crates, wincing as her diaper squished from the movement. She and Bob walked away from the crew and, when they were out of earshot of anybody, Ashe leaned over to ask, “Bob! I peed while I was talkin’, was it noticeable?” In response, her silent partner simply gave a thumbs-up, signalling that she was good. Ashe exhaled in relief. Now she just needed to get changed, then she’d be ready to head out on their excursion. They came upon a two-story building near Route 66 that the Deadlock had appropriated as a temporary headquarters; the upstairs of which was being used as Ashe’s room. “Just gimme a sec, Bob, I just gotta changed,” she said, ascending the stairs. Bob held out his hand in a sort of “wait for me!” gesture, but Ashe stopped him, “It’s not that bad, Bob. I’ll be fine,” she said, still grateful for his concern. Entering into her room, Ashe tossed her coat to the side, and prepared to further undress in a way that had become routine since her incontinence had fully manifested… only, she stopped when she saw what was in her room. An exceptionally tall, slender, orange-haired woman stood imposingly in her room. Around her were several unconscious Deadlock members, several of them lying in puddles with lumpy bulges in their pants. The tall woman turned quickly to face Ashe. Ashe reached for her rifle, but did not draw it when she realized that the woman had no weapon, and was simply smiling and steepling her fingers at her arrival. She kept her hand on her gun, just in case. “Ah, at last,” the woman began, her Irish accent only raising more questions about who she was, “I was growing tired of waiting for you.” “You got five seconds to tell me why I shouldn’t blow you away here and now, lady!” The Irish woman chuckled before putting her hand on her chest, “I am Moira, I represent a party whose goals I feel can align with your own.” “Uh-huh. That why you took out so many of my guys?” “Now I did try to tell them I wasn’t here to hurt anyone,” She gave one of them a little kick, causing the downed woman to groan a little, “they are still alive.” “And what goals do you think we have in common, you psycho?” “Simple: There’s a woman I want to hunt down. There’s a man you want to hunt down.” “Yer talkin’ about McCree.” “Mmhm,” Moira nodded, “Turns out our respective targets are fairly well acquainted.” “Cut to the chase, already!” “I’m trying to do away with an old colleague of mine- one Angela Ziegler- and she would most certainly know how to go about finding your old friend,” Just mentioning McCree made Ashe tighten her grip on her rifle, “My organization didn’t want to spare any resources on what they deemed a ‘personal vendetta,’ so I’m left pretty short-handed. I’ve got a very simple offer for you, Ashe: help me take care of this thorn in my side, and I’ll let you interrogate her for McCree’s location before we… tidy up.” “... Interestin’... ” Ashe murmured, “Now, what’s stoppin’ me from callin’ my friend Bob up here and having him snap you in half like the twig you are for disrespectin’ me and my gang like this?” Moira scowled slightly, then seemed to vanish from sight in a puff of purple and black smoke. “Wha-” Ashe exclaimed. Only a split second later, Moira reappeared in a similar cloud of dark smoke, with her right hand gripping Ashe’s face tightly. Where each finger pressed into her skin, she felt a painful burning sensation. “I am what’s stopping you,” Her fingers dug deeper, still burning intensely, “I’m here to offer you an alliance to benefit the both of us, not to make enemies,” Ashe’s entire face began to tingle, then sting when Moira’s hand seemed to glow purple, “But if you are so intent on it, I can assure you that I am a powerful and deadly enemy.” Ashe had no idea what was happening. It felt like her head was being burned away. She’d fought in thousands of intense fights, but she’d never seen anything like this before. Her heart was nearly beating out of her chest, and she couldn’t find her words. A sound, a bit like a mudslide, filled the room as Ashe’s bowels were emptied into her soaked diaper. She felt the foul mess drop out of her body, piling up in her diaper, filling the spaces between her legs. The mess was soft, and spread around quickly. She was sure she felt some of it slip out of the diaper and into her actual pants. Her bladder had found more contents to lose, as well; while she was soiling herself, a powerful stream of urine flooded her diaper once more. The garment was soaked and full to bursting, and the urine not so much “leaked” as poured out of the diaper, which had lost all pretense of functioning by this point. Her thighs were suddenly warmed and wet by the twin rivers of pee flowing down her legs. Moira arrogantly smirked the entire time this was transpiring. Once Ashe had finished wetting and soiling her pants, the intimidating woman let go of her face, saying, “Seems like we have an understanding, then,” With a little flick of her other hand, a small, golden cloud was sprayed onto Ashe’s face. She expected more pain or further humiliation, but was surprised to feel the burning sensation fade away. She frantically patted her head with both hands, searching for damage, but none was to be found. “Stop worrying, I’ve healed you up.” Moira took a step back, and extended her hand- the healing one- out for a handshake, “We don’t have to be enemies, Ashe. Let’s work together, and take care of two pests at once,” Ashe slowed her breathing, and found her voice, “And you’re sure this woman you’re after is gonna know where McCree ran off to?” “I’m certain of it,” “... Okay, yeah… You got a deal, Moira,” Ashe reached out, and shook the mysterious woman’s hand. “Excellent. I’ll contact you again in about an hour with some instructions. For the time being, you may wish to devote some time to cleaning yourself up.” The deal struck, Moira vanished into thin air once more. Ashe looked around, but did not see her reappear anywhere nearby. Ashe absolutely hated the woman, but she did have a point about cleaning up. She hadn’t made a mess of herself this severely in a very long while. Now she probably would need Bob’s help to get changed. Not to mention that were several injured people unconscious in her room, many of them in similar states of needing a change. “Bob!” She shouted as she exited the building to get her Omnic companion, “Need some help here, Bo-” “Ms. Ashe!” Her heart almost stopped when she was greeted by a small group of Deadlock members outside the building. They looked somewhat panicked and had their weapons ready. “We heard someone say that an intruder was attacking us! Are you okay, Ms. Ashe?” The person at the forefront of this small group, a young woman, asked. Her eyes drifted downwards, settling on the obviously wet crotch of Ashe’s pants. And Ashe was sure they could smell her other accident. The Deadlock woman averted her eyes, and the others present slowly caught on and did the same. Ashe wanted to die on the spot. “Oh, um… Did you, uh… need a minute, Ms. Ashe?” The woman’s voice grew fainter and fainter as she spoke. Something snapped inside of her, and Ashe felt her shame get replaced by anger. She couldn’t stand the way they were pitying her right then. Her blood beginning to boil, she took an intimidating step forward, “I’m doin’ just fine, kid. You came by at the perfect time, as a matter of fact. There’s about ten people knocked out in my room, and unless you’re plannin’ on joinin’ them, I suggest you get to clearin’ them out!!” The Deadlock woman almost fell down as she retreated backwards, away from Ashe. As she’d hoped, a wet stain formed on the woman’s crotch, and travelled down her thighs. A few others in the group were doing the same. “Get movin’!” Ashe commanded. The woman frantically nodded, then ran into the building. The others followed after her. Ashe smirked when she noticed the messy bulge in the back of the woman’s pants. “Bob!” She called out. After a second, the large Omnic stood by her side. “Help me get cleaned up. After that, we’ve got a new plan...”
  17. So this is a little scifi setting I've been mulling around the past month or so. This is one of two projects. One is yet to be posted and an actual piece of fiction. This is an interactive story done in a disco channel so while it does have the length it's a little rough but thoroughly enjoyable thus far. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NjsemNhze7U Allow me to set the scene, to paint the canvas through which we will accompany our poor heroine. A small piece of music to help illustrate my vision of a corporate neon future. The San Angeles Metroplex or more commonly known as SANAM City. The remnants of the western North American Seaboard reformed on the temperate coast after the event... Everyone knows the event, it the world a chance to start over for better or worse. At a time during which the Earth's poles were reversing leaving the magnetosphere at a mere fraction of it’s strength the sun’s activity spiked. A devastating coronal mass ejection event started it all. Satellite’s circuitry fused in an instant, even the most hardened of communication systems ground to a halt with the interference generated by the petawatts of energy released upon the earth. High voltage transmission lines that made everyday living and the technology we relied on blew when the transformers melted, substations detonated from the ambient currents rippling through the atmosphere. Drives in all but the luckiest or most shielded locations were erased in a flash. The solar activity persisted and the power… stayed off. Governments crumbled, populations evaporated but as we are a tenacious species we carried on despite the adversity. The prevalence of nuclear reactors in the midwest and east coast left much of north america uninhabitable and a combination of factors made those who survived flock to the west coast. A temperate climate, the vast Pacific ocean, fertile farm ground and of course a lack of skin searing radiation which is a bonus. What little power structure survived was in the form of multinational corporations. Slowly they assumed control, provided stability, order. It wasn’t perfect but it was something. But enough of that history lesson. Some people don’t even believe that’s what really happened. With such limited electronic records from the time numerous wild conspiracy theories fill the net. Crime, drugs, technology and a thin facade of corporate order holding it all together. Welcome to Sanam city. Flashy advertisements line the streets projecting holo images. Far above ground level the ultralux jet about in their aircars looking down on those below stuck using wheeled transportation. Cybernetic implants enhance everyday life helping with every task imaginable. The sky is the limit when it comes to augmentation and if you can dream it up and have the credit for it… Therein came the problem. As with any foreign object certain precautions had to be taken to ensure the body’s white blood cells don’t attack and reject it. The latest iteration from PharmaTek of their ubiquitous acceptance cocktail Serum5 has been all the rage. Used in surgery it is combined with a potent anesthetic which makes it a favorite to smoke as well often sold by less than scrupulous doctors on the side looking for a little bit of extra cash. What nobody was expecting was the drastic side effects that accompanied the new revision. It wreaked havoc with the parasympathetic nervous system but only with those who had a XX chromosome pairing. The effects were almost instantaneous. Females everywhere began to experience the symptoms. Increased appetites, lacrimation, drooling and worst of all what looked like an inexplicable onset of incontinence like effects stemming from much more sensitive sphincter muscles. Nobody knew how to deal with it and information was scarce. PharmaTek slicers worked round the clock to expunge any questions confused and concerned women raised on the net. Doctors were paid off to look the other way and attribute such incidents up to stress but it was growing too big to cover up. With no fix insight and dollar signs in their eyes a pivot was made. After the first month past and the effects have spread to most if not all of the female population. Feminine incontinence wear sprang up practically overnight. Adverts and product campaigns in an effort to normalize and profit off of their own screwup. PharmaTek still hasn’t owned what it has done but profits are higher than ever now with it’s subdivisions devoting entire production lines to incontinence wear. Two months have passed since Serum5 hit the streets and the troubling issues brought with it are still fresh in everyone’s mind. Not everyone is accepting their fate laying down! Some still strive towards a cure to the sudden onset of symptoms but others resigned themselves to a life of ‘protection’. A song played in the early hours of the morning. The greenish hue of the fading Aurora Centralis besieged by the distant rising sun. “Just five more minutes.” a groggy voice calls out from underneath a set of expensive silken sheets. “Ms Blackstar, it is unsanitary to sleep in your own urine. This is the third night in a row you have urinated in your bedding. I advise an appointment with the company clinic. I scheduled an appointment for thursday of this week.” the ‘helpful’ computerized assistant spoke. “and I would advise using the restroom before bed.” it said almost as if it was mocking her. Her cheeks turned red as she slowly woke up. It was right… the clammy cool feeling of soaked sheets clung to her skin. “Nnnngggg not again!” she growled, wrinkling her nose at the smell of piss. She’d have to do laundry again. “Just… cancel the appointment and deactivate.” she said, obviously in no mood to be discussing her problem. Swinging her legs over the side of the bed her scowl only deepened seeing the huge damp splotch covering her bottom sheet and having soaked her pajamas. She pinched the bridge of her nose before her fingers in frustration before forcing herself to trudge to the bathroom. A shower would help, she’d have to strip the sheets again. This was getting real old… the past month had been chaos. Women under her command calling out sick having unfortunate… accidents and even having more than a few close calls herself including one afternoon in the office where after a mad scramble towards the restroom she’d ended up just yanking her skirt up and pissing through her panties. Everyone just said it was ‘something going around’ but what kind of cold did this? She’d seen one of the company doctors but he fed her some line of bullshit. Sounded like he was reading a script, told her to make sure she got some rest maybe take some time off. It didn’t sit right with her and now it seemed to be getting worse. She was wetting her bed again! A PrivSec agent should not being doing that… no less a PrivSec field commander! What kind of person wanted to hire security from someone who couldn’t stop wetting themselves… or worse? A hot shower helped ease her mind, it always did. Her morning routine fell into place with a few extra additions to accommodate her little bedwetting incident. A brush through her long black hair, a faint dusting of makeup followed by her sharp grey suit. It wasn’t her field outfit but she could change into that later if necessary. Most corporate jobs had been little more than babysitting lately which… with all the issues she was facing wasn’t exactly a bad thing. The door to her more than modest apartment opened and shut behind her as she exited towards the carpark. Even the low level grunts at PrivSec were payed relatively well. It wasn’t a bad outfit to work for if you didn’t mind turning blind eye on occasion to some of the less than moral contracts. Her implants hummed away taking care of minor tasks like opening her car door and making sure her apartment’s security system was armed. Unlike much of the tech on the street her implants were all top notch, designed not to stand out, not to raise attention. At first glance one would never even notice she was auged except for the faint glowing ring her pupils. Another benefit of being employed by PrivSec, implants related to your job function were provided at a heavy discount and doctor’s services were waived as long as it was installed inhouse. An executive black sedan waited for her. Living in a better part of SANAM city meant most of the other vehicles around hers were similar but all it took was driving a couple of miles in the wrong direction and the rolling scrap heaps people called cars would surround her vehicle. The coffee warmed her throat as she greedily sucked it down taking a seat on the fine leather. Sunlight was just starting to wash over the sprawling city, not that it was ever really dark anymore. Not with the aurora and the constant advertisements. The car’s engine fired to life with the raucous bark of a powerful cold start before falling into a smooth rumble. Before she could set off an advertisement chimed in through the av unit the holographic image of what could only be described as a child’s diaper appearing. “Now available to women everywhere the revolutionary Huggies Titan with color changing indic...” the advert went on before she bellowed angrily. “Turn that shit off!” she spat. People weren’t actually buying this garbage were they? She could feel the satin grasp of the panties she wore underneath her suit and blushed at the thought of wearing something so ridiculous. With an angry stab of the throttle she set off into the city’s early morning bustle. She continued to sip her coffee and catch up on the news as she drove moving from light to light. She liked to get to the office early. That gave her a chance to pick her assignment before other field commanders might choose a contract she wanted. She was getting close to the office, an uneventful drive thus far. Traffic had been heavier than normal but not too bad. She’d still be on time but… something caught the corner of her eye. Out the side window down a littered alley she spotted two bangers. Two hoods to whatever local gang was around working over some guy pretty good. A man and a woman both wearing a black hoodie with some neon colors on the back. “Low life parasites...” she sneered, her hand moving towards the large sidearm holstered under her suit jacket. She gave a sidelong glance at the time in her ocular implant. She could stop this, save that poor guy do a small act of good in a city that so often lacked it but… if she got out and approached those two punks who knows how long it could take or how risky it could be to approach them. What if they had backup? Most days she would have just driven by barely sparing a glance. Maybe it was everything that had been going on giving her a little bit of perspective but fed up as she was she wasn’t about to let this shit just happen. “Fuck it.” she glanced at the time, it would be cutting it close but… an outlet for her frustrations sounded just like what she needed. The door opened and with a hiss and the driver behind her layed on the horn to which she responded with a steely glare and a flash of her middle finger. The car’s door shut behind her and the automated driver took over shuttling the vehicle out of the roadway while she took care of business per se. The simplest way to clock a concealed weapon but not always the most accurate, a quick thermal scan. A quick change of her vision mode to thermal. The woman was wearing a pair of brass knuckles and from the rough outline the man looked to have a small firearm tucked into his waistband. Probably some piece of shit polymer printed illegal knockoff. The yellows and reds faded from her vision as she returned to normal sight. “Hey!” she barked at them already drawing the large caliber handgun from underneath her shoulder. Her other hand already flashing her PrivSec badge as she approached. A PrivSec agent was not someone you wanted to run up against. The two paused kicking the brutalized man and for a moment there was a calm in the alley punctuated by a groan of pain. At 5’10” Emelie Blackstar wasn’t exactly a small woman and in the small heels she wore around the office she crested six feet tall. The two seemed unimpressed by her stature or her badge and the young girl maybe early twenties spoke up first. “Oh come up we’re just showing our friend what happens when you mess with us.” she said. Her mouth was hidden underneath a bandana but she sounded like she was grinning, the smug little bitch. “Yeah, this ain’t some corpoRAT security detail so why don’t you fuck off.” her partner in crime spat with a laugh. The pair had balls but that wasn’t liable to count for much with a piece of serious hardware leveled at you. “Why don’t you go put on a show for some ultralux, whore.” the girl mocked. Her brightly dyed blue hair framed her face falling out from under her hood. Emelie just wanted to knock her teeth in. So far she had shown restraint but these two… her finger twitched moving from the trigger guard to the trigger. As his accomplice spoke he made his move reaching for his concealed weapon. He never even managed to draw it from his waistband before she fired the first shot. A deafening crack echoed in the alley, her aural implants attenuating the sound protecting her hearing. Another crack as she fired a second time, each crack of gunfire accompanied by the satisfying metal snap of the slide racking back ejecting the spent cartridge. Five shots directly center mass splattering the ground behind him with a red mist. He slumped over instantly. The woman’s eyes were as wide as saucers when she saw the agent storming towards her gun still in hand. “You should have listened to me. Your little friend here was about to come at me with an illegal piece. Now you’ll be on the hook for murder.” she said with a smirk as she grabbed the woman by the collar and shoved her against back against the wall. “N...no please… please just… just let me go.” she begged, tears streaming down her cheeks. She narrowed her eyes jamming the hot muzzle of her gun straight against the woman’s throat. A small mercy she was wearing a bandanna but that would be the least of her problems should she decide to pull the trigger. She pinned her against the wall with her forearm using her hand to yank down the bandanna getting a good look at her face analyzing the expression. “Genuine remorse...” she said as she loosened her grip finally hearing the sound of running water. It was faint but noticeable with her enhanced hearing. She let her go taking a step back. “You… no… don’t tell me...” giving a look of disgust at the distraught girl glancing down expecting to see a growing wet splotch rushing down her ripped at the knee jeans but nothing… Something clicked in her mind. That damned advertisement she’d heard earlier. A quick flash back to thermal vision showed her everything she needed to know. The glowing yellow radiant heat all around her groin. “Show some backbone, christ are you actually wearing one of those… things?” she couldn’t even bring herself to say the word. “And stop crying!” she snapped at her waving her gun nonchalantly. “I… I can’t stop!” she said defensively, wiping her eyes. “and… and I didn’t even feel it.” the girl mumbled averting her gaze. The agent was disgusted but at the same time morbidly curious. “Let me see it.” she found herself saying. The woman blushed furiously, as if admitting to having pissed herself was embarrassing enough now this deranged woman wanted to see… her… diaper? “You can’t be serious!” she balked. “Just fucking do it and then get your ass out of here. I don’t want to waste anymore ammo today.” she threatened. The color drained from her face and her hands fumbled with her pants quickly yanking them down mid thigh exposing the sodden garment. It was just like that damn advert had described. Thick, swollen with urine the cutesy prints faded when she’d wet it. “Get out of my sight.” she said coldly, jamming the firearm back into her holster. Tapping her finger to her ear for a moment walking towards the end of the alley leaving the surreal scene behind her. She combed her fingers through her hair as the operator came on through her implant. “No… the emergency is passed.” she said to the emergency dispatch. “No… just… listen. PrivSec agent ID 37489 just send an officer down. Some little shit came at me with a piece of knockoff tech… No I won’t wait at the scene. Yes, whatever just send the paperwork to the office.” she said tersely ending the call. Walking along the sidewalk leaving the alley she called her car remotely tracking its crawl through traffic as it homed in on her location. She winced, feeling that familiar pang of growing urgency. That coffee… she should have known it would go right through her. She took a deep breath and pinched her thighs together before pressing on ignoring the sensation. “Damn autodrive… could it have found a farther parking spot!” she groused still waiting for her car to appear in the seemingly endless flow of traffic. Finally after another few minutes it slowly pulled up along side her as she strolled casually through the dingy streets gratefully getting into the passenger door when it slid open. “Get me to the office.” she said taking a somewhat stiff sitting posture, tapping her foot against the carpeting. “Uhg, I’m going to be late I knew I should have kept going.” she complained. Truthfully she would only be perhaps five minutes or so late but she had a feeling the better assignments would already be taken by the time she arrived. The rest of the drive was fortunately less eventful and though she resisted the urge to jam her hand between her legs thinking herself better than that she certainly wanted to. There it was, finally; the PrivSec building. A massive obsidian obelisk in a sea of concrete and glass superstructures. The car could park itself allowing her to take a deep breath and depart. She walked quickly into the looming building passing through the requisite security checkpoints verifying both biometric and implant locks along the way. She could feel her muscles quivering as she stood in the elevator forcing herself not to squirm. The very muscles threatening to send a torrential downpour straight into her uniform. Finally the bell chimed and her floor was revealed through the maglevetator. She let out a sigh of relief and departed heading straight towards the restroom. Approaching her from the other side of the hall was a man clad in a pinstriped black suit. Her stomach dropped, it was her boss… “You’re late Blackstar.” his gravely voice called out. He was holding a folder in his hands… was he just fucking waiting for her? Hagar that little micromanaging prick! This was bad… what if he got off on some tangent and started lecturing her or what if he wanted to talk mission parameters… She just wanted to piss! Of course he was waiting for her today of all days. She groaned as he approached her feeling uncomfortably full. It was getting urgent but she’d be fine… she was simply feeling a little concerned and rightfully so with what had been happening lately. The worry came from the twitchy sensation between her legs. She took a deep breath and focused, forcing herself to stand up straight her professional shoes clacking against the floor as she closed the distance. “Just a little distraction on the way to the office… you know how it is.” she said dismissively; having decided to address him first before running off. Ignoring her boss… not a smart move. “Actually, I don’t. The police report came in. It’s waiting on your desk for a signature. If you want to be a hero do it on your own time.” he said. She raised her eyebrow folding her arms over her chest shifting from one foot to another. “Priority B mission.” he said thrusting the folder at her. That must have been why he was in a less than jovial mood. She took the folder holding it under her arm already slowly beginning to circle around him. Normally the two had a good working relationship and on a small handful of occasions met for a few drinks and some extra curricular activities. Given the rigid corporate environment sleeping with a subordinate was not exactly smiled upon. It gave her a little bit of leverage with him but she knew if she really tried to pull that card he would most certainly take her down with him. “Priority B? I’ll take a look at it in a minute.” she said already beginning to look away. He sighed “You know the rules, we’ve got to go over mission parameters. This is an ultralux heavy hitter.” he began. “I said in a minute okay so unless you want me pissing all over the floor meet me in my damn office in five minutes!” she snapped at him shooting him a dangerous look. That didn’t stop him from quietly snickering and raising his hands in defense. “Fine fine, five minutes.” he said, watching her walk. “Oh and get me a danish from the coffee room… no, two. I’m fucking famished.” she said rubbing her stomach. “Fuck…” she hissed under his breath clenching her fists as she quickly walked towards the bathroom. Fortunately he wasn’t in as bad of a mood as he let on, just stressed at getting a priority B mission. Her cursing might come up later but he usually let her slide except for the few times he mentioned it in her damn yearly review but that’s another story! Finally the bathroom was in sight. She had just been joking about pissing all over the floor but seeing the bathroom so close suddenly seemed to make the urge even stronger. Her bladder spasmed but she didn’t feel anything and with a burst of speed she darted forward throwing caution to the wind as she threw open the bathroom door and hurried inside. Small mercy it was empty. The door locked automatically behind her giving her the privacy to attend to her rather pressing needs. She tossed the file haphazardly onto the granite counter; her hands were already fumbling with the front of her pants as she bounced from foot to foot. The sight of the toilet right in front of her making the need to go even worse. In a swift motion she yanked down her pants accompanied by her panties letting her head lull back with a moan of relief that was shortly drown out by the gushing noisy hiss. Blissful relief and she’d made it not like the other week which still made her flush with embarrassment. Pissing through her panties as she sat on the toilet, her a grown woman of twenty-nine, a PrivSec agent no less! The coffee having stimulated another urge she gave a push and finished her morning evacuation with an unladylike series of noises. She frowned, the urge had come on so fast and the strange sensations. She was growing concerned. At first she had tried to chalk it up to coincidence… and the first doctor had told her it was just stress but these close calls and then her wet sheets. “Fuck...” she said when her eyes finally rested on the gusset of her panties. There was a telltale damp splotch and a faint wet streak that ran down the inseam of her pants. “Fuck!” she cursed again loudly slamming her fist against the wall. Tears started to well in her eyes. “What the fuck… why am I crying!” she howled even more angry than before. It took a few seconds to calm down, but she did. Wiping her eyes to stave off the unbidden tears and squirming when the bidet triggered she was ready to start her day. She approached the mirror, a news feed of various stories scrolling through down one side. The water turned on automatically and she washed her hands, meticulously drying them before straightening out her coat making sure she was composed once again. “Get it the fuck together.” She told her reflection grabbing the folder from the counter. Emelie marched out of the bathroom back towards her office, stomach growling with ravenous hunger. He was waiting for her sitting across from her desk and as requested with two pastries and another cup of coffee were waiting for her. He was holding one palm up a holographic image projecting up as he casually checked his mail whilst waiting for her. The projection faded as he heard her enter and he cleared his throat. “Good morning Em, I didn’t mean to be sharp with you it’s just well you know… priority B.” he began, flashing a charismatic smile. “Yeah yeah, just don’t make it a habit.” She teased tossing the folder onto her desk, lowering herself into her cushy office chair. “So this mission, what are doing doing?” she began, reaching for the folder as he implants synced with the holoprojectors mounted in her desk. He intercepted her movements first. Before she could open the file he put his hand on top, a look of concern on his face. “Before that…” he began somewhat hesitantly. “Are you… doing okay?” he asked. The gesture of sympathy caught her by surprise. Of course they had a close working relationship but in the office he had always kept her at an arm’s reach. Analyzing his facial expressions with her implant she looked him over for ulterior motives; concern, unease, apprehension… amusement followed by a long list of potential false positives. ‘Fucking asshole would be amused by the situation’ but perhaps that was a little harsh she thought. Likely he was doing the exact same thing, scanning her reaction. Fuck it was tempting, to just talk about what had been happening lately. It seemed he was genuinely concerned, her only worry was as her boss he might take anything she said to the medical department. “Look you don’t have to tell me anything… I just know a lot of weird stuff has been going on the past few weeks… not specifically with you I mean” He said using an innocuous euphemism. She had a feeling she knew exactly what he meant by weird stuff. She took a large bite out of one of the pastries mulling it over. He was the closest thing to a friend she had in PrivSec. It was weird, everyone seemed to at least on some level know that something was wrong… but no one was talking about it probably too embarrassed to be the first to say something. It was easier to just carry on and pretend everything was normal despite a few extra loads of laundry. Even the few times she did a quick search of the net there were no hits leaving her thinking she was the only one suffering such issues or it was just all in her head. The raven haired agent looked at him, washing down the pastry with a gulp of coffee She set the cup of aromatic caffeinated liquid down staring at it for a moment before returning her gaze to his. Narrowing her eyes she pointed at him “This doesn’t leave this room and so help me god if you laugh… I’ve already shot one person today.” She threatened with a menacing tone. He shook his head giving her a look “Who am I going to tell?” he casually brushed away her concerns. Emelie rubbed her face with her hands massaging her temples. “I’m doing… well not exactly bad but…” she began, pausing as her cheeks started to blush red with embarrassment. “Have you noticed all those stupid adverts from the PharmaTek subdivisions?” she said, seeming to suddenly nonsequitor to another topic. He gave her a confused look before it clicked. “Sort of… not really though. So much of those ads are targeted by implant id.” He said, having a vague idea of what she was talking about. “I thought it was crazy… I mean they look like baby diapers with those prints and everything. I thought what kind of self respecting woman would wear -that-.” She continued, slowly getting back to her point. “One of those bangers I ran into this morning. She was wearing one… totally pissed herself.” She said before he interjected. “Well… you did gun down her running partner in front of her with that hand cannon of yours.” He said with a chuckle which earned him a sharp look. “And I held it to her neck but that’s not the point. Sorry… I’m rambling a bit.” She said shaking her head using the momentary silence to take another bite of her pastry. “I started wetting the bed…” she finally forced herself to admit. “You… what?” he said blankly, blinking a few times. “You heard me dick, don’t make me repeat it!” She said feeling a mix of embarrassment and relief. “Once last week… and now three nights in a row.” She elaborated with a sheepish tone. It was what he had asked about but hearing it actually come from her mouth just made it seem even more outlandish. His mouth hung open slightly. “I see.” He said pensively, quickly composing himself. “Yeah… and I’ve had a few close calls during the day.” She said, the concern evident in her voice. “This morning?” he asked. She shook her head. “Not quite, close but I could have held it. I just didn’t want to risk it.” “Understandable… it could be worse though.” He said which earned him another sharp look. “How…” she said bluntly. He scratched the perfectly trimmed stubble along his square cut jaw. “I’m not going to tell you her name but another of the block managers she shit herself. Right in the middle of the Weekly Operation report meeting.” He said bluntly. Her eyes widened. “No…” she said in disbelief. “Yes… she was just sitting there fiddling with her pen taking some notes and I see her just go white as a sheet and then I heard it… and smelled it. She was shocked. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone run so fast out of one of those meetings.” He said with a chuckle. “It’s not funny!” she barked at him. “Sorry sorry.” He said defensively. “It’s not even just the bathroom issues… I’ve been so hungry lately!” she exclaimed, finishing the first pastry as if to reinforce what she’d said. “and the crying… uhg sometimes I can just feel tears starting for no reason. I just… I don’t know what I’m going to do if… this gets worse.” She confided with him. “and before you say anything I have seen a doctor. He said it was probably just stress. Which is bullshit and you know it. That’s just code for I have no idea.” She said with a wry laugh. “Now can I laugh?” he asked which brought a smile to her face. “I’ll allow it.” She said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Well for what it’s worth I don’t think you’re alone with whatever is going on.” He said doing his best to be comforting. “That’s what I thought but… the few times I searched the net I couldn’t find anything but ads for Huggies and Pampers.” She said with an irritated shake of her head. “I mean… couldn’t they at least make them without those stupid cutesy prints!” she said. He gave her a confused look. “Nevermind…” she said embarrassed that she even knew what they looked like. “I also wanted to let you know you’ve got a mandatory physical eval today. I think it’s concerning what’s been going around all the women do. They started with the grunts earlier. I only heard about it today…” he said. She let out a pensive ‘hmm’ and opened up her messages on the holoprojector waving her hand to scroll through before seeing the invite. “Yeah… right here I’m scheduled for 9.” She said with a sigh taking another sip of coffee already eyeing her second pastry. “Thanks…” she said glancing away shyly. “But… if it’s all the same I’ve had enough talking about how I’m pissing my pants and let’s just brief me on mission details before my appointment.” Em said, getting down to business as she plucked a morsel of sweet dough from the delicious breakfast bread. “Right, of course.” He said, opening the folder revealing the papers contained within. “Client’s an ultralux which you probably already guessed.” He began, she nodded and let him continue as she worked on finishing breakfast. “Classic story, spoiled daughter gets it in her head that she wants some excitement, comes down ground level.” He covered spreading out the files on her desk. Pictures of the target, the client and her last known location. “Classic story indeed, can I guess how it ends?” she asked taking a good look at the pictures. “By all means.” He said with a gesture of his hand. “Goes to the club scenes, parties her brains out high of everything from Ozone to every Serum remix available and ends up locked in some guys basement. Now he’s trying to ransom her to daddy. How’d I do?” she asked looking up with a smirk. “Close, I’ll give you a B minus.” He joked. “First, ‘some guy’ happens to be Division Ruin. Serious players in the valley they run some serious combat grade hardware. DR management are ex higher ups from different arms manufacturers and second… we don’t think she knows she’s being ransomed. From what we can tell they’re treating her pretty good meaning…” he paused. “Once Daddy pays they’re just going to kill her.” She answered in his stead. “exactly… and third he’s an investor. So he’s given us a timetable and it’s how should we say… short.” He continued. Emelie frowned, she kicked herself for coming in late today. “On the upside Priority B means close air support if you request it and some pretty choice hardware if you want to go in loud. “I would say this kind of mission is begging for some creative infil, getting close to the higher ups and convince the target to walk right out but I don’t know that you have the time for that but… anyway like I said. Parameters are up to you, keep in mind we do have an asset in DR so try not to kill too many people. She sighed and nodded. “We’ll figure it out and get back Daddy’s little princess in one piece.” The two talked for an hour and change covering the layout of the surrounding area, strength and size of DR forces, security measures, equipment options, tactical approaches and everything else they could fit into the hour before her appointment. She ushered him out of her office so she could maybe get some answers about what was going on. The medical wing was decent walk away from her office. Wing was really more of an understatement as the PrivSec building also housed what amounted to a private hospital. “Examination room FF” she said aloud glancing over her shoulder as a bookish looking operative walked past her leaving one of the rooms on the opposite side of the hall her cheeks blushed with embarrassment. “Welcome Ms. Blackstar.” A chipper female voice called out as she opened the door and quickly shut it behind her. “Mm” she nodded. “Please, go ahead and fill out this questionnaire and then undress.” The shorter woman said. She seemed too happy for this kind of meeting probably just trying to be friendly but Emelie didn’t like her. “Right.” She responded curtly, having to remind herself that the doctor was just trying to help. Had she received any implants and been administered with the new Serum5, had she experienced any increase in appetite, increase in needing to use the restroom… and at the very bottom of the list bouts of incontinence… It was a clean sweep, a yes to every question though she felt the defensive need to clarify with the qualifiers to downplay the severity. “If I could just elaborate on some of these questions…” she asked but the woman shook her head offering a friendly smile. “Oh no that’s not necessary we appreciate your honesty and it only helps us help you!” she said taking the clipboard allowing the woman to undress. Wanting to finish as soon as possible she did as asked carefully setting her shoes aside before slipping out of her pants. Her jacket and shirt followed suit and soon she was standing there in just her light satin panties with an elegant trimming of lace along with a matching bra. “Oh, completely naked please.” The woman asked when she turned around now holding an instrument in her hand. “I’m going to sync with your implants to check your vitals if you’ll open your firewall to device ID 72fc444A.” she said continuing with that irritatingly chipper tone of voice. She sighed again thankful that the small leak from earlier had dried by now as she hooked her thumbs into her waistband and tugged her panties down her long toned thighs. Unhooking her bra shortly thereafter she stood, entirely nude in front of the woman her impressive physique on display. “Go ahead Doc, you should be able to sync now.” She said, folding her arms over her chest. “Thank you, this shouldn’t take long.” She said humming to herself as she waved the device around looking at the screen and then poked and prodded at the woman’s body. “Odd…” she noted as she went about her work. “You haven’t felt drowsy or light headed lately?” she asked idly. “No… why?” Emelie asked, her voice tinged with concern. “Well your average resting heartrate has decreased by approximately 5 beats per minute to 49 or so. Exercising more?” She commented keeping as professional as ever. Emelie just shook her head and let the woman continue. Her impressive physique was enhanced by her implants. Lengthy fibrous metal cables ran the length of her spine and branched off into the major muscle groups in her arms, legs and even into her core. The Apollyon module implanted in the base of her spine helped enhance strength through muscle density and endurance by helping the body filter out lactic acid more quickly. With an elaborate suite of sensors it was also the module the doctor was currently accessing her vital information with. “Well you’re as fit as ever.” She said making a note on the medical device. The woman stood just barely above chest height eye to eye with Emelie’s generous c cup chest. “Let me just check.” She said to herself, setting the device down and reaching out practically jabbing her freezing cold fingers against the woman’s abdomen. Her stomach showed just the faintest hint of musculature underneath a layer of supple pale skin. She flinched, grunting in surprise at the sudden sensation of the woman’s fingers jabbing against her stomach and bladder. Even worse she could feel a spasm, a sudden tickle against her nethers and then a warm rivulet of liquid running down the back of her thigh. ‘Fuck!’ she thought to herself praying the woman didn’t notice. Discussing the issues was one thing but… dribbling down her legs in front of her… that was too much! “Nng” she let out an audible groan as the woman’s fingers dug in a little harder kneading around putting more pressure on her abdomen. “My apologies for any discomfort.” She said continuing to strain and pressure her lower muscles. Her bladder spasmed again and she felt another warm gush of urine run down her legs dribbling onto the floor. “Enough of that!” she exclaimed smacking at the woman’s hand, cheeks burning bright red at having just peed in front of her. It wasn’t much but still, she was mortified! “That should conclude my examination. Thank you for your cooperation Ms. Blackstar.” The woman said. “You may use the towel on the wall to clean up.” She said as if she had been expecting her to urinate all over herself. “You performed exceedingly well and I must say I’m jealous of how you held it together when I pressure your sphincter muscles.” She spoke as the blushing woman toweled legs off. “I’ll get down to brass tax. Though we have no definite information evidence points to a unique interplay between Serum5 and our female physiology. You’re not the only one experience these symptoms an increase in urge incontinence, increased appetite and a mix of others as I am sure you are aware. Oh before you redress…” she said, stopping her just as her panties began to crest her thighs. “I have a sample for you.” She said opening a drawer tugging out a small wrapped package. “The latest in discrete incon wear. The Poise Guardian pad or if you’d prefer I have more absorbent options.” She said still keeping that same chipper tone of voice that was really beginning to irritate her. She was tempted to slap the damn thing from her hand! She needed a medical solution not a diaper! “Are you fucking kidding me!?” she finally snapped. The smaller woman recoiled slightly but stood her ground. “I understand you are frustrated but this is only a temporary solution until a more permanent course of action is presented.” She asserted. “I’m a grown woman! I’m not a child! I don’t need to go fucking traipsing around in a diaper!” she fumed. “This is ridiculous!” she continued, having lost her temper. “This isn’t a diaper!” she protested. After her little eruption the two stood silently, Emelie weighing her options. It was official… she had a problem but this… it seemed so extreme. So she had a few close calls… did she really need to resort to… this? Accepting it just felt like admitting to her weakness but at the same time… it seemed like the smart choice.
  18. This was a request from Livinginfinite that took me entirely too long to complete. But, at long last, here is some omo of the best girl from Fullmetal Alchemist. Hope you guys enjoy! Prologue If General Olivier Mira Armstrong had learned anything over her years spent serving at Fort Briggs, it was that nothing- not guns, not bombs, not numbers- nothing was as crucial to winning a war as morale. Her soldiers’ willingness to fight, their bravery to march into the fires of warfare, these were the things that permitted victory. If these soldiers could only soil themselves and surrender, then all the guns, bombs, and strategies in the world couldn’t help them. It was for this exact reason that Olivier had to keep her own accidents a secret. After all, if the soldiers saw her spraying piss down her legs when they came under fire, or messily filling her panties with her own shit when they were ambushed, it would devastate their morale. This rather embarrassing secret all began some time ago. Being the overseer of Fort Briggs, the enormous military garrison tasked with defending the icy northern border of Amestris from its warlike neighbor, Drachma, was no small or simple task. While Olivier was certainly up to the task, she wasn’t invincible. Slowly but surely, the stress and fatigue of the job began to wear on her, until the night were it’d be fair to say it all started. She’d wet the bed. Her. Olivier, the fierce defender of Fort Briggs, had really, truly urinated on herself in her sleep. All because of a bad dream. A grown woman, the general of a deadly army, woke up encircled by a yellow stain of her own making. In all her life, she’d never truly felt shame and confusion of such a caliber. But it had only just begun. Waking up to soaked sheets became a weekly occurrence. It came to a head after a very disturbing nightmare. She’d dreamt of a surprise invasion. Drachma came in the night, while they weren’t ready. The fortress fell, the soldiers inside perished, and it had been because she wasn’t ready for it. The nightmare had been harrowing. Olivier, as she expected, awoke to the wet and warm sensation of pissing her panties. A sensation that had, regrettably, become familiar. However, a foul scent lingered in the air, and the muddy, squishy feeling beneath her was not the same as a wet mattress. She stood up to inspect herself, and confirmed her worst fears: she had soiled herself in her sleep. In the middle of the yellow stain on her sheets was a brown one, and a flattened bulge rested in the rear of her underwear. That had been the final straw for her, and she resigned herself to wearing diapers to bed after that. Of course, as stated, this was only the beginning. The rest of her story is better told through the General’s own perspective… Part 1 The contents of a number of Olivier’s nightmares had come to life today. While she and a small detachment of troops were away from the fortress, an attack had come. Olivier and her troops took shelter in a small, old bunker. The sounds of distant gunfire and artillery penetrated through the thick walls of the structure. Drachma… She thought with great contempt. Amestris’ northerly neighbor had always been an aggressive and imperialistic nation. Since Amestris’ founding, Drachma had labored incessantly to conquer them. Thanks to her efforts, though, every attack had failed. They must have learned that she wasn’t there to command her forces, and thought it was an ideal time to strike. How they learned that, she had no idea. A spy, perhaps. “Is the radio operational, yet?” She demanded from one of her technicians, who was furiously attempting to make some repairs on the bunker’s long-broken radio. “N-not yet, sir! Working on it!” The young soldier replied, stammering lightly. “Damn it all!” She swore, banging her fist on the table. The earth shook violently for a moment, and a thunderous sound filled the air, startling everyone. The artillery barrages were getting dangerously close to their position. A bunker this old and weathered wouldn’t last more than a few seconds under such heavy fire. The radio was certainly not working, and the bunker honestly left them just as vulnerable as if they were out in the open. There were no choices left. “Everyone!” Olivier shouted with her powerful voice, “Drop anything that isn’t essential, and prepare to leave! We’re returning to Briggs!” A chorus of men voicing their disbelief and disapproval greeted her. The general gritted her teeth and shouted, “Quiet, all of you!” As much as they didn’t want to go through with her plan, no one dared to speak after Olivier Armstrong told them to be quiet. As if to accentuate what she was about to say, another volley of artillery fire shook the earth, even closer this time. “That will reach us before long. There are paths we can take through the hills that will offer cover and mask our positions. We’re needed at the fort, and that’s where we’re go-” Her command was cut off as an artillery shell impacted the bunker. The thunder, once distant, was now deafening. The only things that broke through the wall of sound it created were the terrified shrieks of the bunker’s inhabitants. Though Olivier stood her ground longer than everyone else present, the shockwave it produced knocked everybody to the ground, even her. She was closer to the ordinance than anyone, and she certainly paid the price for it. She thought the heat was going to burn her alive, and had she been much closer, it certainly would have. Shrapnel and debris were launched in all directions, and Olivier felt the metal shards biting into what felt like every inch of her body. Perhaps it was the fear, the pain, or simply the shock of what happened that caused it, but Olivier had totally lost control of her bowels during the blast. It had probably even made quite a loud sound, but simply couldn’t compete. At almost the exact second the shell hit, she expelled a large quantity of waste into her white panties. It was soft and wet, and collected into a ball just behind her thighs. As she attempted to stand her ground against the force of the explosion, far more mess found its way out, and the seat of her panties filled very suddenly with her waste. Like the first release, it was wet, and she did notice some of the mess beginning to run down her thighs. When, at last, the explosion knocked her off of her feet, she landed on her back, her release getting flattened underneath her. As much as the general wished she could rest there, she knew that she had no such luxury. She grabbed her sword that had been dislodged by the blast, and used it like a can to pick herself up. As fast on the uptake as Olivier was, she quickly assessed the situation, and had a feeling that her men would be less hesitant to evacuate the bunker, now that over half of it was gone. It turns out that the decrepit old thing couldn’t even take a single shell without collapsing. A gaping hole provided them a view of the snow-blanketed warzone outside. It also only took Olivier a second to notice just how badly she’d filled her pants. She could feel her panties sagging under the weight, and knew that there must be a somewhat conspicuous bulge, even in the very baggy pants Amestrian soldiers wore. She cringed in disgust for a moment as she felt some of the mess still creeping slowly down her thighs, but quickly swallowed her emotions. This was no time to have a breakdown. Besides, she was far from the only one to have soiled themselves. Even a cursory glance around the room revealed a number of soldiers sitting in puddles (some even still making them) and plenty clutching at bulges on their backsides. “Anyone still want to stay put?!” She shouted. She was not met with any resistance, this time. “Then get moving!!” Everyone forgetting the states of their clothes, or their wounds or disorientation, they got up, grabbed their gear, and made for the back exit. Once the last of the soldiers had made for the door, Olivier herself followed suit. A stab of pain stopped her in her tracks. She tasted something metallic. Blood, she thought, being very familiar with the taste. Looking down, she noticed a slowly spreading red stain on her abdomen. Must’ve been the damn shrapnel. It would have to wait. The fort wasn’t too far away, and she could be more properly treated there. ------------------------------------------------------------- By the time they had reached the fort, Oliver was covered in so many cuts, bruises, stains, and other damages that the large, brown discoloration on her rear just looked like another dirt smear. While there was certainly nobody in the entire Northern region with the balls to comment on General Armstrong having an accident, she was still relieved that nobody would have cause to even think as much. The soldiers who had returned with her were rushed either to the medical bay or to their battlestations. Despite everyone’s insistence that she join the wounded for treatment, Olivier had gone to the top of the fortress to oversee the defense. The mess pressing against her rear had long since turned cold, bitterly reminding her of her lapse in control with every step she took. She reached the ramparts, where her snipers and artillery were hard at work repelling the invasion force. The soldiers were elated to have their general back, her mere presence galvanizing them to fight much harder. She issued commands to her soldiers, but it wasn’t truly that necessary; she’d already trained and conditioned her men to be killing machines, and it showed. Within hours, the Drachman army was soundly obliterated. What caught her by surprise, however, was the hot sting of liquid coursing down her legs near the end of the battle. She had pissed herself. But why? She wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t being attacked directly; her bladder just… let go. Streams of hot urine soaked her panties, and ran down her legs. She was once again very grateful she was covered in so much dirt and grime that the stains weren’t identifiable as her piss and shit. … At least, she hoped they weren’t. ------------------------------------------------------------- The news that the doctor gave her was unpleasant, but undeniable: the shrapnel that riddled her body during the explosion had damaged some of her organs, and severely diminished her continence. Pragmatic as she was, Olivier swallowed her pride, and asked what needed to be asked. “Is this permanent?” “Most likely,” The doctor began, “But, the way medicine and alchemy advance, maybe not. It’s certainly possible that either science could advance enough to mend your body.” “But you’re telling me that for the foreseeable future-” “That it’s either diapers or a lot of laundry for you.” Olivier gritted her teeth and sighed. She had been lucky enough that her accidents today were relatively inconspicuous. She knew that she couldn’t be lucky every day. Her soldiers depended on her, they relied on her, and it would be pretty hard for them to have faith in her if they constantly saw her wetting and soiling herself. She hated that it had come to this, but if this was what it took to keep the north in line, then it was what she would do. Part 2 Waking up to a wet, and occasionally even a full diaper had become a common occurrence for Olivier. She had long since become accustomed to nighttime accidents, since they had begun even before her injuries, and they no longer bothered her very much. What did bother her were her other accidents. ------------------------------------------------------------- Olivier and a number of officers of Fort Briggs had gathered to discuss their defensive strategies and changes to their patrol routes in light of the recent attack. In the middle of laying out the new tactics, Olivier’s weakened hold on her bladder failed, and she flooded her diaper. The hot wetness collected around her groin, and then saturated the fabric near her butt, bathing her privates in sickly warmth. The diaper swelled up between her legs. The others in attendance might’ve noticed their general’s scowl deepen slightly, but she managed to keep her reaction minimal. The meeting was adjourned, and Olivier headed back to her quarters to change. On the way back, she noticed a weight in her abdomen, and could feel her body already struggling to keep it in. Her room was still several minutes away. She growled in angry resignation, and stopped holding back. With a slight push, her mess came right out of her. With a disgusting squish, she felt the warm, soft mush press against her backside. The rest of the walk back was nerve-wracking, walking by many soldiers and officers, any one of whom could’ve noticed the foul smell the general left behind her. There had already been a rumor or two that Olivier had shit her pants during the attack, but at least that was an appropriate time to shit your pants. She would be beside herself with fury if word spread that the general could not even endure a simple meeting without going on herself. ------------------------------------------------------------- A couple days later, Oliver and some other officers had decided to inspect a number of their storage facilities in the fort. The plan was twofold: to ensure that they were well-stocked for another attack, and to search for signs of sabotage. Olivier was still confident that Briggs had been infiltrated by an enemy agent, and she wouldn’t rest until she knew for sure. One site in particular was suspicious given that it was largely avoided by most of the staff. It was presumed empty, and some structural instabilities left it unfit to be used for storing anything important. Away from everyone’s sight as it was, it would’ve made an ideal hiding place for a spy. A couple soldiers stood on either side of the general while another worked on opening the gate, which was rusted and difficult to move. With an ear-grating screech, the door slid upwards, dropping flakes of rust as it went. Inside were only old, broken boxes and some long-rotted food. The three soldiers moved inside, but provoked something as they did. Squeaks and squeals filled the air as a small family of rats rushed from the boxes, and scurried by Olivier’s feet. Having expected to encounter a spy, and having been prepared to fight him to the death, Olivier was already prepared to jump into action. It appeared her body was, as well. No sooner had the rats scurried away than Olivier noticed the small amount of shit she’d released into her diaper, or the still collecting warmth of her urine soaking into it. Have I really gotten so soft? She thought. “Sir! The storage unit is completely empty!” One of her soldiers reported. “Good. Keep searching inside for any signs of someone having been there. I’ll go check the other units.” “Yes, sir!” They replied in unison. None of them were privy to the fact that Olivier was still pissing herself as she gave them their orders. She left them to their search, and ventured towards the next storage unit, where a search would already be underway. As was often the case, she greatly wished she could go and change, but her duty meant she would have to stay in her soiled undergarments for a while longer. Approaching the next storage unit, one of the soldiers inside jumped at something, accidentally firing his pistol into the wall of the structure. Hearing the bang, Olivier quickly drew her sword, but as she quickened her pace, she noticed that the quantity of shit in her diaper had increased greatly, and was still doing so. Her bladder had even found new urine to expel. Still wetting her soiling herself, she moved inside the small warehouse, only to find that it was nothing more than one of the rats from the other storage site that had wandered in during the search. Perhaps she was being paranoid, and the attack had simply come at an inopportune time. Either way, it had been totally ineffective. ------------------------------------------------------------- Such incidents became commonplace for the unfortunate general. But, while rumors circulated about her tendencies to have accidents, the stories that more commonly got passed around were of the invincible woman who withstood an artillery barrage without a scratch, while her soldiers shit themselves behind her. While Olivier certainly preferred that version of the story, she was never one to judge her subordinates on their control, especially considering her condition. Greater than any military information, Olivier’s incontinence had somehow become Briggs’ best kept secret.
  19. Version 1.0.Blargh

    3,193 downloads

    I did say I would upload the other four games at some point so here they are. Only 3 and 4 are really worth playing in my opinion, but they're all here if you want them. I have no screenshots but apparently it requires some so have a squid. You can buy all these on dlsite, and I recommend supporting the guy, he makes cool stuff. Guide for 3: Courage Test.txt This one is a bit weirder: the actions you do before the listed ones are irrelevant, so long as you don't accidentally scare them a lesser amount and end the scene before you reach the point you want. These are also not the only routes, there are other possibilities. Guide for 4: Courage Test 4.txt

    Free

  20. The preceding events as masterfully illustrated by livinginfinite who can be found here https://www.pixiv.net/member.php?id=2453086 “G...gears this far west?” she asked with an uncharacteristic quiver in her gravely voice. The pink haired swordswoman trembled at the thought. Her thighs trembled and a gush of liquid warmth soaked into her wrappings. She squeezed her muscles as best she could and quivered; urine dribbled down her thighs. The sensation of liquid running down her thigh tapered off as she managed to regain control of her bladder. For the one armed woman there was nothing more terrifying that a gear. They were the reason she’d lost her arm… and one of her eyes as well. She could still remember finding out Sol was a gear, losing control of her bowels. The sensation of her own solid waste uncontrollably starting to fill her tight wraps. It was something she was humiliatingly all too familiar with. The foul smell, the sticky sensation, the heavy weight in her would be panties… she shook her head. At least it hadn’t been a full voiding and the man holding the magical phone hadn’t noticed her release. The voice she was speaking with grunted in acknowledgment. “Yes, we’ve been tracking their movements through the prefecture and one seems to have wandered away from the main group.” he said. “I’ll… I’ll handle it.” she said, swallowing nervously. “Good, let us know when it’s done… and get a magiphone. It’s irksome trying to get a hold of you.” he said before the line clicked silent. Baiken flipped the roaming phone operator a coin as a tip. He bowed his head in thanks before hurrying off holding the odd magic stick that harnessed the power of magic to enable long distance communications. She lowered her eyes, staring at her hand. It was trembling… pulling the gourd from her back and popped the cork open guzzling down a few mouthfuls of sake. She sighed, steadying her nerves with alcohol. After her last remedial potty training course Dr. Faust had urged her to quit drinking but she wasn’t about to give that up. Checking over her shoulder to make sure the operator was gone she tugged her loose fitting kimono open to inspect her cotton wrappings. She bit her lip… soaked… The pink haired woman squirmed, rubbing her thighs together. She could still feel a vague urge to go but for now she could hold it. How many times had she been burned by that thought before… It didn’t matter, she needed to press on. She didn’t have time to remove her wrappings and redress herself. Ironically switching to the cheaper disposable cotton wrappings instead of the more expensive panties she kept ruining only worsened her ability to make it to the bathroom. Instead of just tugging them down they had to be arduously unwrapped which led to many incidents standing bowlegged in front of the toilet, starting the process only to lose control in her underclothes. Tugging a small journal from her belt she made a note of the incident. January 18th… she paused to look up through the trees. Noon, small leak. She wrote, under reporting the severity of her little incident. Another one of that mad doctor’s ridiculous ideas… a voiding diary. She stowed the pencil and let the little book fall to her waist. She rested her hand on the hilt of her sword and took off at a quick pace not relishing the thought of the rash she was likely to get feeling the wet fabric rubbing against her womanhood. Even though it should have dried by the time she arrived at her overnight halt the physical exertion of running was enough to continually cause her weak bladder to leak. She would have held her bowels too if it wasn’t for the witch flower’s pollen which had caused a sneezing fit. Her wraps were completely drenched and the small lump of mush she had expelled had smeared and squished during her vigorous movement staining the entirety of the seat of her undergarments. Before even cleaning up when she arrived at her room dutifully she penciled in what had happened to her journal. “Faust had better be able to help after this.” she growled, snapping the diary shut. Letting her robes fall away she continued undressing and made her way to the bath tub where she could let down her wild pink hair and relax in the hot water. If Dr. Faust was to be believed she wasn’t the only one with such an issue but when pressed he would always state doctor patient confidentiality and keep his lips sealed. He’d tried to get her to try wearing protective undergarments but no matter the euphemism they were diapers and she wasn’t a child! In the end after her disastrous attempt at remedial potty training he had offered her a wager. He would give her time to improve on her own giving her some recommendations to follow. There was no way the proud samurai could turn down a wager. If she didn’t show markable improvement upon their next meeting she would agree to wear diapers. She ruminated on her little wager nearly falling asleep whilst she basked in the warmth of the water. Finally climbing out of the tub she dried herself and trudged to bed. It had been a long day of traveling and she was weary. The warm embrace of sleep quickly whisked her away after dressing for bed. The land of sleep wouldn’t allow her to escape her little issue. Having always struggled with bedwetting and often even nighttime bowel movements tonight was no different. In her fitful sleep she dreamt of capture. “This is a fine blade.” the female gear mused as she examined Baiken’s prized edge. “Baiken, we meet again.” the red skirted woman spoke in a seductive tone. She strained against the bindings keeping her tied to the chair. Even though she was face to face with I-no somehow she wasn’t scared. Her burning desire for vengeance fueled her anger. “I’ll destroy you the second I free myself.” she snarled, muscles straining and bulging as she struggled. “Ohohoho will you now?” the woman laughed sadistically. “No little human I don’t think you will.” she said. “You can’t even break free of a simple yarn binding.” she said, pointing to the ‘rope’ that held her. Baiken’s eyes widened at what she saw. It wasn’t a tick rope like she’d thought but a simple yarn… it felt as if it were unbreakable steel! “You’re weak.” she purred leaning close to captured Baiken, licking her ear. The swordswoman whimpered and tried tugging at her bonds again; they barely budged. “You’ve been a past for far too long hunting down master.” she said, stepping away from the sitting woman. Her muscular thighs quivered. Now she could feel the fear running through her blood like an icy torrent. With her thumb I-no popped Baiken’s sword free from its sheathe drawing the fine blade and in an instant swinging the deadly blade towards her victim. Baiken’s face twisted with fear as the blade approached. Steaming urine started to pool around her thighs as her bladder rapidly expelled its contents in fright. The blade held a hairs width from her throat, parting the air as it approached. She clenched her eyes shut feeling the breeze caress the side of her face and the sound of a noisy wet bowel movement rose to their ears as she filled her wrappings with a soft formless mush. She trembled, catching her breath still mid bowel movement, grunting as she forced the last of the wet feces into her undergarment with a wet crackle. “Coward~” I-no’s voice taunted. She shot up in bed drenched in a cold sweat. Though, not the only liquid she was drenched in. The bed was absolutely soaked. She must have wet multiple times through the night. A huge wet splotch discolored the sheets under her and even worse… when she sat up she felt a massive bulge squish under her backside. Baiken flushed brightly with embarrassment, she could still remember Dr. Faust’s words about the matter the last time she had undergone the potty training class. Of the attendees she was the only one to soil her bedding. Before losing her nerve to record the humiliating event she quickly noted down what had happened in her voiding diary. There was no way to downplay a nighttime accident like this. At this rate she was destined for diapers she thought bitterly. All too used to these sorts of nighttime incidents such as this she pulled herself out of bed groaning at the large wet splotch and faint brown staining from her nocturnal release. Another shower followed stripping off her badly soiled wraps. Laying down a towel she collapsed back into bed. Staring out the window she could hear Faust’s irriitating voice in her head. “Protection will allow you to get a good night’s sleep as well.” he had chided her when she told him how many times a night she was woken up on average per night. Baiken grumbled under her breath yawning as she finally fell back asleep atop the towel she laid down. The distant crow of a rooster roused her from a thankfully dreamless sleep. Again though, her body had betrayed her. The wet splotch was even larger than she remembered. She must have urinated in her sleep once more… maybe twice. Baiken cursed loudly, the clammy sensation of wet sheets sending her into a foul mood. She’d come so close to staying dry at night but every time she ran into some sort of trouble her night time issues seemed to return. Leaving an extra tip on the nightstand to deal with the mess she’d made of her bedding Baiken quickly slipped out of the small inn not wishing to explain what she had done to yet another innkeeper. No sooner had she managed to leave the inn a roof shingle slipped from the aging roof shattering violently against the street next to her. She gasped in surprise readying her sword as her bladder spasmed. Her freshly changed wraps felt damp again. She huffed, realizing the source of the noise and let her sword drop back into its sheath before pressing on. Before she could leave the town another member of the communications guild stopped her. “Ms. Baiken, I have a collect call for you.” he said, a hint of unease in his voice. Her fearsome reputation with a sword preceded her. She waved her hand dismissively. “Fine, I’ll take it.” she growled, it was probably him again with more information about the gear who had broken away from the main contingent of hostile Gears. “Yes?” she asked with an irritated tone as the man lowered the antenna. His voice, the same as yesterday crackled into clarity. “A fortunate turn of events. It’s changed direction again. Headed towards you. Now’s your chance, it might be able to tell you something about That man. Take care of it Baiken… and get a damn phone already.” the voice said before the line went dead. She paled as a slow trickle of warm urine ran down her muscular leg. There was no putting it off any longer, she needed answers about That Man, it was just one gear; she’d fought them before… she could fight them again. Shutting her eyes she focused, steadying her breathing. Managing to stem the flow of urine dribbling down her leg she took a deep breath and quickly made her way from the town, leaving a small glittering puddle where her foot had been. Her hand rested on the hilt of her sword as she darted through the forest. She was going to find this gear and make it tell her about That Man. Cutting her way through some of the denser underbrush with efficient sword strokes. Baiken was growing closer, she could feel it. Something about the way the air seemed almost electric. Her wraps had nearly dried on her run. Something she could take pride in not having dribbled any further., only a faint dampness remained from her earlier lapses in control. Slowly she drew her sword, slowing her breathing as she waited. The faint rustle of leaves in the wind was the only noise audible. The minutes rolled on as she waited. Finally the silence broke. Branches snapped noisily underfoot from some distance away. Her pupil dilated, her heart rate quickened with a surge of adrenaline and her bladder trembled with nerves loosening another spurt of warm liquid that would soak into her wraps. The shuffling footsteps didn't sound like a normal gait. Instead they were uneven, almost as if it were stumbling, was it damaged? What she could hear filled her with an uneasy confidence. Her legs trembled with fear as the distant footsteps grew closer. Now that the reality of facing down a rogue gear was growing closer the occasional spurts and dribbles of urine had turned into a near steady stream. Translucent yellowed liquid continually trailed down her thighs dribbling into the grass underneath her sandals. Her bowels felt heavy and in a distant corner of her mind she could feel her anus quiver. It emerged from behind a tree, stumbling as it tripped over a root. Reaching out it steadied itself on a tree. It's form was lithe and delicate. The Gear spotted Baiken immediately, jerking it's head in the direction of the swordswoman. She swallowed dryly as its eyes fell on her. If one didn't know any better it could have been mistaken as just a beautiful young woman albeit in a strange state of dress. Tattered cloth barely covered her breasts and nethers and more than one seam was visible in the skin of her arms. It must have been a prototype or some defective Gear. Gear's like I-no and Sol were perfect specimens of magical origin. Her breathing had grown shallow in the tense moments of the stare down and while she'd managed to steady her sword-hand her quivering bladder had given up. A torrential downpour of urine flowed down her legs dampening her kimono in spots. Its eyes flashed red and it opened its mouth as if to speak. Baiken panicked, images of her village burning to the ground flashed through her head, her parents massacred, her friends destroyed. Her knees had bent slightly of her body's own accord and when she finally came to her senses she realized she was in the process of uncontrollably vacating her bowels. Baiken's stomach tensed as her muscles moved on their own. Had she another hand she would have desperately pressed it against her bottom in a last ditch effort to prevent the seemingly inevitable expulsion. A soft brown paste slowly piled into her urine soaked wraps. Under her kimono the tight cotton fabric began to stretch and sag accommodating the freshly released waste. The pink haired woman could feel it squishing between her muscular cheeks, coating her bottom with sticky mush as she continued to grunt and void herself. She had to move before it struck! Taking a decisive step forward before bursting into a sprint she could feel her body push the rest of the wet stool into her wrappings with a noisy wet splortch; feeling that muddy heaviness weighing down her underwear, jiggling with every movement. Closing the gap in mere seconds she found her strength and ran the Gear through with her sword cleanly impaling it through the midsection before it could react. Withdrawing her sword the still urinating Samurai sheathed it as she felt the last of her bladders contents finally run down her legs. Sparks jetted from the exist wound... that wasn't supposed to happen. Baiken shielded her eyes hopping back staring warily at the figure. Gears were more man than machine. The figure collapsed, twitching into a broken heap. Whatever this was it wasn't a Gear. "Oh dear oh dear." a voice suddenly called out. It was precisely then the woman realized that the rear of her Kimono had been tugged up exposing her bulging undergarments. Her eyes widened with surprise as she whirled around again. "Kyaah! Freak!" she shouted, immediately recognizing the voice of her doctor; the... less than traditional Dr. Faust. She blushed brightly upon realizing that he'd been looking up her Kimono to inspect the state of her underwear. "You!" she growled, clenching her sword. He seemed unbothered by the threatening stance taken by the dangerous woman as he scrawled something into a notebook. "Yes yes, that is concerning." he mused. "What... what is concerning!?" she asked waving her sword towards him. "Well..." he began, striking a pose and pausing for dramatic effect. "First I must attend to my robo Gear." the extremely tall and extremely eccentric man spoke; pointing towards the collapsed and still occasionally twitching 'woman'. Baiken huffed, sheathing her sword. As the good doctor walked with his odd elongated motions towards the downed construct she awkwardly shifted from foot to foot, tugging on the fabric of her soiled wraps. "There we are." he exclaimed pressing his wiry fingers into a few specific spots. In a comedic display of precision the automoton popped off the ground and folded itself into a rectangular shape landing into Faust's open and waiting briefcase. He opened his white coat and thrust the briefcase inside. Where it actually went Baiken had no idea. Not even the Post War Administration Bureau truly understood the breadth and source of Faust's occult mastery beyond his scientific and medical genius. "Now, as I was saying." he turned back to Baiken, speaking with an eloquence one wouldn't expect from a lunatic wearing a paper bag for a mask. "At first estimate it would appear you've regressed in terms of your involuntary control." he noted. As clinical as he attempted to be with his words it still brought a fiery blush to Baiken's cheeks. "and your unintentional defecation made you hesitate for roughly 4.7 seconds. If that had been a real Gear it could have taken advantage of your bowel movement and struck first; wounding you or worse..." he mused. "If you would please raise your kimono for me?" he requested. She glowered at him."Please, I must compare your release with your past averages. You do remember our little agreement right?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. "Of course I remember." she spat. Slowly she turned her back to him and begrudgingly gripped the sides of her Kimono carefully tugging it up until her ruined wraps came into view beneath the hem of her robe. She could feel his intense gaze probing her dirtied undergarments. "As I thought." he spoke to himself. "A release of 730 grams of feces. That's almost twenty more than your average." he estimated, sounding distressed. "Without regular potty training it seems your issues have been getting worse." Faust exclaimed. "Have you at least been following the exercises I showed you?" he asked, demonstrating the ridiculous crouching motions as he continued to barrage her with questions. "Have you had any change in diet? Reduced your alcohol intake like I recommended? Have you been sleeping well? How is your general fluid intake? Oh and my I see your voiding diary?" he asked. She let the hem of her Kimono fall, once again concealing her shameful accident from sight. If only it would conceal the foul smell hanging around her, making it quite obvious she'd had a very messy accident in her pants. Tugging the small book off her hip Baiken thrust the private journal towards him. "No, no, no, no and poor." she said with a grumble, answering his questions. He wilted somewhat at her petulant response "As your physician I promised to help you with your issues that you came to me for assistance with. I can only do so much and forgive me for being blunt but if you ever want to stop pooping your pants like a child you'll take my advice seriously!" he reprimanded her. "You showed some promise during your first potty training classes. I'll admit you had some setbacks... but..." he trailed off. Baiken flinched, taking a long swig of rice wine from the gourd she kept strapped over her shoulder. "I apologize for the deception and roping Anji into all this but it was the only way to properly gauge your progress without putting you in any real danger." he resumed. I think it is clear that you are not ready to be out of diapers." he said, flicking through her voiding diary, scanning the pages with incredible speed. She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I have helped many other patients in similar situations achieve more manageable levels on continence." he said. "and I believe we had a wager did we not? You were insistent you could improve on your own and I gave you the opportunity to prove yourself but it seems your continence has only worsened." he explained as he rummaged around in his coat once more and pulled out an extremely thick diaper. The color drained from her cheeks as she saw what awaited her. The pink designs that adorned the white plastic shell brought an embarrassed scowl to her face. Faust noticed her expression and frowned. "Is it not to your liking? I thought it would match your hair." he said innocently. "and the Colossus is the only protective incontinence garment rated to keep your bedding dry. Since you're such a heavy daytime wetter it would simplify things to wear the same garment day and night." he said methodically. "I... I'm not wearing that. It looks ridiculous!" Baiken said. "It's for children it's... give me another chance. I'll prove myself. I can... I don't want to wear that." she nearly pleaded, her eyes watering with shame. "One more chance?" he asked with a nonplussed sigh. He'd known she was stubborn but to be this stubborn!? "Fine." he said quickly. Wasting no time at all he waved his hands around in the air in front of Baiken who watched in confusion. Every few moments he would poke her muscular stomach. She had learned a long time ago not to question what he was doing unless she wanted a long confusing lecture about matters that she didn't understand. He finished shortly after he'd begun and after one final poke he cleared his throat. "You'll feel the effects momentarily. Hold it for five minutes and I'll..." he began before be was interrupted by a distressed cry of surprise from the vengeful woman. "Ayiiiiii what did... you do!?" she grimaced in discomfort, holding her stomach with her hand. "Like I was saying..." he tried to continue before Baiken groaned loudly and squatted, spreading her thighs wide parting her kimono as a cacophony of unladylike noises erupted from her backside. All of a sudden she'd had to go again. That was his idea of another chance? "I... nnng I'm... ahhh I'm shitting." she grunted crassly as she defecated in her already full wraps. Any pretense of control had long since past. A fresh wetness blossomed on the crotch of her wraps and a powerful stream flowed through the simple cotton undergarment. The pale yellow arc of liquid splattered noisily against the forest floor as the wet stain on her groin began to encompass the entirety of her wrappings. The sudden relief was overwhelming, almost orgasmic. Her grunts and groans nearly turned into moans as fresh waste was pushed into her fully soiled wraps. Faust watched in surprise as she lost control immediately. Mayhaps he had overdone things... just a bit... "nnng m...make it stop..." she groaned, clenching her eye shut. Owing to the tightness of her wraps some of her waste had started to spill out over the top smearing her lower back and the inside of her kimono. "I'll wear it... I'll wear it..." she groaned, gasping before giving one final grunt pushing out a firm log that clearly distended her wraps beyond the lumpy bulge. Panting for breath it was finally over. "I.. thought you would be able to hold it until you were at least able to undo your underwear. It was not my intent to make you soil yourself" Faust said apologetically, holding his hands out for emphasis. "Please allow me to assist you." he said, dutifully moving towards her. "I can do it myself." she growled, slowly, carefully starting to stand. Despite how careful her movements were the mess in her wraps made a wet squelching noise as she stood, forcing some of it down her thigh. "With one arm you'll have difficultly applying the diaper properly, not to mention cleaning yourself up." he said, continuing to move towards her. "Fine." she grumbled. Undoing the tie around her waist she let her kimono fall open carefully removing it to avoid further soiling the expensive outfit. Hanging it over a nearby branch she folded her arms over her chest standing in nothing but her filthy wraps. "Go on then." she commanded, blushing brightly. Faust was already humming merrily to himself, snapping on a pair of rubber gloves having retrieved cleaning supplies from who knows where. It was a time consuming process and while she would never admit it she was glad she didn't have to clean the shit off her backside. He was surprisingly gentle with his touch and working in such close proximity to her womanhood was enough to inspire a blush in her cheeks for a different reason. On more than one occasion did she have to stifle the urge to moan as he tended to her. Finally it was done, she was clean and her destroyed wraps disposed of. "All done." he said proudly, removing the gloves. "Oh, but I would recommend shaving." he commented clinically, pointing to the pink pubic hair that adorned her groin. "Purely for sanitary reasons." he said before laying his jacket on the forest floor. "If you would lie down Ms. Baiken. I will show you how to fasten a diaper." he said gesturing for her to lay down. "Fine." she grunted towards him, maintaining her standoffish attitude. She lowered herself onto the makeshift mat as instructed. Retrieving the thickly padded diaper he'd set aside he began unfolding it showing her the difference between the front and the back, how to apply the tapes and how to ensure a snug fit; after all what would be the point of wearing protection just to have it leak? "Go ahead and lift your hips please." he asked. Baiken having accepted what was coming followed his instructions allowing him to slide the fresh garment under her. She sat back down with a faint rustle from the plastic. "I'll let you do the rest." he offered, allowing her some modicum of pride. It proved to be much more difficult than anticipated. With one hand she couldn't quite pull it tight enough and then apply the tape. After struggling with multiple attempts she finally asked for help. "Doctor... I can't..." she admitted quietly, averting her gaze in angry frustration. To think that something so simple could elude her grasp. "I'm sure you can... it's just practice." he said without a care in the world before proceeding to tape the thick garment tightly around her toned hips. "and there we are." he said proudly. Pulling herself to her feet the noisy crinkling was immediately audible. and brought a blush to her cheeks. "Everyone will hear it!" she protested, taking her kimono from the branch where it hung. "Nonsense, it's not that loud." he lied to assuage her pride. "It's so thick! I can hardly close my legs." she continued with her observations, glancing over her shoulder down at her padded butt. "You will get accustomed to it but hopefully with enough progress we can switch to something thinner." he incentivized her. She shot him an angry look as she tugged on her kimono concealing her childish diaper. Baiken inspected herself from each angle making sure it wasn't visible. "You can't even tell." Faust reassured her. She looked at him skeptically before finally accepting his words. It was for the best... no more wet sheets at night, no more sodden thighs and stains on her kimono. "Now if you'll follow me. I've enrolled you in remedial potty training. It's starting tomorrow." he said, grabbing her by the wrist leading her off with a surprised yelp before she could even get in a word of protest. Already the pink pictures that adorned her diaper had started to fade. The doctor decidedly had his work cut out for him.
  21. So if you haven’t played Prey, I dunno what you’re doing with your life, but you’re doing it wrong. There were several moments in the game where, considering I nearly wet myself just playing it, I thought it was impossible someone really in that situation wouldn’t have lost control of themselves. If this turns out well, I might do some other stories of a similar theme, and maybe some more Prey ones. And fear not, this fic will be almost completely spoiler free. All major scenes, twists, events, and so on, will not be spoiled. As always, any and all feedback is appreciated. I know it’s a bit shorter than what I usually post, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. ----------------------------------------------------------- Talos 1 Lobby, 2035 Morgan Yu peered as slowly and carefully through the large doorway as she could. Considering the mutilated human corpse she found just a short distance behind her, she wasn’t taking any chances. The Typhon were lethal and merciless, and they could be anywhere. Wrench in hand, Morgan slowly walked through the doorway, and entered the lobby. A massive window to her right constituted the wall of the space station. The area around was lavish and lovingly furnished, but for the moment she was captivated by the sight of Earth as it took up a good portion of her view out the window. She walked forward, stopping at a table with some snacks and water bottles on it, still admiring the view of her home. Her quiet moment of reflection was rudely interrupted as she heard a very sudden rustling from behind her. Raising her wrench to strike, she whipped around, and wasn’t surprised when there were no enemies to strike. Instead, she saw only an apple on the ground, lazily rolling towards her feet. She was not fooled, however. Raising the wrench high in the air, she slammed it down, towards the apple. Unsurprisingly, the apple was suddenly engulfed in black smoke as the four-legged beast shifted into its true form, a Mimic. They were spider-like creatures composed of hundreds of little black tendrils. This one wasn’t going to be making a meal out of Morgan today, as she deftly smashed the wrench into the creature, causing to explode into several bits and lots of black goo. She reeled a bit. The Typhon were great at messing with people’s heads, and even the humble Mimic was no different. Upon seeing them transform, it always hurt her head and eyes a bit. As she groaned in pain and rubbed her temples lightly, Morgan became conscious of the fact that she needed the restroom. All the running around, wrench-swinging, and alien battling she’d been doing had worn her out, and she’d been drinking a ton of water she’d found in order to keep hydrated. And now that was coming back to bite her. She sighed in annoyance. They never show in movies or videogames that you still have to go to the bathroom, even if you’re an action hero. Her annoyance about quadrupled when she also felt the need to get rid of the other kind of waste present itself. She had a station to save, she couldn’t lose so much time just to go to bathroom! Of course, the obvious alternative was to just… go. To go to the bathroom in her suit. As compelling as the thought of saving time was, it most certainly was not worth the humiliation of wetting and soiling herself. As something in the room to her left very suddenly and very quickly shifted position, she wondered if she’d really have a choice in the matter, as the damned Typhon might just scare it out of her before she even reaches the bathroom. She moved to the right, giving the now suspect room a wide berth. Morgan continued walking throughout the lobby, suddenly very paranoid of the large open space it presented. So many corners… so many places for things to hide. She could feel her heartbeat quicken, yet her blood ran cold. So many things around her seemed to be changing position. Any random thing she walked by could be her death. Her control faltered in her paranoid state, and she was vaguely conscious of the fact that she was dribbling into her red boxers. The crotch of her underwear darkened as it met with her urine, and she could feel a few wet trails racing down her thighs. Fortunately, her rubbery suit would show no trace of her leaking. Morgan slowed her breathing, and tried to remain calm. The Typhon mess with people’s heads, and right now, they were getting into hers. After calming down, she looked around again, and noted that everything seemed to be in order, more or less. If there were more Mimics, they weren’t right next to her, at least. She released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Her eyes widened when she noticed the cooling wetness on her crotch. She clamped her thighs together, attempting to hold the rest of her urine. She needed a bathroom, and now. Scanning the room, her prayers were answered as she saw a sign labelling a nearby hallway as the bathroom she was after. Taking one last look around her for any Typhon aliens, she rushed towards the God-sent hallway. Curiously, the entrance to one of the restrooms was barricaded by large crates. Conveniently, it was the men’s restroom. Of course, she didn’t think anyone was going to scold for using the wrong toilet at this point, anyway. She entered the ladies’ room, and could feel her bladder and bowels nearly give out in relief. She slid open the door to one of the stalls, and smiled gratefully when she saw this one was stocked with extra toilet paper. She reached for the zipper on the front of her suit, and suddenly made a realization, as the Mimic that was masquerading as the spare paper lunged at her. She only barely managed to swing the wrench fast enough to stop the alien mid-jump. It skittered away, and hopped up onto the counter, preparing its front legs to strike. Morgan made sure it never got that chance, and crushed it under her trusty wrench. Her swing was powerful enough to crack the counter the Mimic was on. As Morgan panted, trying to catch her breath, her attention immediately snapped to her decreasing need to use the restroom. It took her a moment to realize that the scare the Mimic gave her had startled her into… going in her suit. The wet stain on the crotch of her boxers had rapidly expanded, and the stain travelled down both legs. Small rivers of hot urine now poured past the cuffs of her underwear, racing down her legs and filling her boots. She firmly planted her hands in her crotch, attempting to regain control, but by the time she did, most of the damage was done. She also became aware of the load that now occupied the back of her red boxers. She had even pooped her pants, she was so startled. Her mess weighed down her underwear, and she could feel it pressing up against her bottom. And the worst part was: She wasn’t done. She sighed, and, with tears just beginning to form in her eyes, resigned herself to just finishing now, in her clothes. She already had to clean up, anyway. She spread her legs, and released her hold on her pee. Her privates were suddenly warmed, and she felt much smaller rivulets than before streaming down her thighs, then past her knees, then into her boots. Her hands were still hovering over her crotch, and through her suit, they could feel the heat and vibrations caused by the urine impacting the suit. Now for the rest… she thought, as she squatted down. She could feel the mess that was already present be squished against a little as she did so. She scrunched her face, and pushed. Her mess came out, slow and steady. It met the existing load, and caused her underwear to bulge out far, then her suit to bulge out as the underwear made contact with it. She could feel her boxers growing heavier and heavier, and was beginning to lament her decision to not just finish in the toilet. The mess was downright huge, and she worried about her underwear's ability to hold all of it. She reached a hand back and felt the end result. It was a lot. Even though her thick, concealing jumpsuit, it would be completely obvious she'd voided her bowels on herself. After another moment of pooping herself, she was done. She sighed in embarrassment, her cheeks burning. As she prepared to stand up, a loud, distorted human voice yelled something near the entrance to the bathroom. Morgan slipped, and found herself recoiling in disgust as she fell on her rear, smushing her mess under her. She could feel it smooth and flatten out, covering her backside. The urine that was still trapped in her suit levelled out as she changed position, some of it returning to her thighs. As she sat there, she didn’t know if she was grateful or not that her puddle and mess were confined to her suit. She gave herself a quick little slap to her face, and bolted upright. What was she doing?! An alien might be right behind her, and she’s too busy feeling sorry for herself to notice! Coming to her senses, she grabbed her wrench, and slowly looked out the doorway into the lobby. A strange, human-shaped figure was wandering towards the bathroom area. It seemed to be made of the same black tendrils that comprised the Mimics. Despite everything she’d just been through, she somehow found herself leaking even more pee into her suit, but she no longer cared. As she waited, her back to the wall, the creature seemed to lose interest, and turned around. She released a pent-up breath. As long as it didn’t come back, she figured she should have a couple of minutes to clean herself up, then hopefully save the entire station. Assuming she could refrain from doing something like this again. Funny, out of all the terrible things that happened to her today, she couldn’t decide what was the worst: the alien invasion, or her complete accident. It would take some time to come up with an answer.
  22. Sapphire3619

    malefemale Shame and Suspicions

    This turned out long. Maybe not the longest I've ever posted here, but definitely up there. Thanks for reading! Happy belated New Year! *** It’s not that Mandy was eavesdropping, exactly. “Eavesdropping” implied some sort of sneaking or subterfuge; Mandy just happened to pay attention to conversations that happened around her locker. “Senior lock-in is the best night of the year!” Cassie insisted, sounding every bit like the blonde cheerleader she was. “It’s more relaxed than prom, and way cheaper, because you don’t have to rent a tux!” Out of the corner of her eye, Mandy saw Ethan give a hesitant half-smile. “It sounds cool,” he acquiesced. “I’ll think about it.” Cassie put her hand on Ethan’s arm, a move that Mandy had seen melt much stauncher men. “It’ll be such a good way to get to know everyone!” she wheedled. “You don’t want to be the guy who just came for senior year, and then no one remembers you!” Ethan pulled out his textbook, not meeting Cassie’s wide-eyed gaze. “It’s so chill!” she promised, sensing an opening. “Literally, you do whatever you want! There are quieter rooms with card games and stuff, and then the gym has sports and is really loud, but then the choir room is for people who want to sleep, so you don’t even have to stay up all night if you don’t want to!” Gathering her own supplies for her next class, Mandy knew Ethan was done for. If he didn’t give in now and agree to go to the lock-in, Cassie would have the entire cheer squad on him by lunch time. Any feasible excuse would be futile. He had to work? Cassie would personally find an underclassman to replace him. Didn’t want to buy tickets? Cassie would talk to the principal and get them for free. Literally anything to get the cute, mysterious new guy to come to the first big senior event of the year. “I’ll…” Ethan trailed off as he turned from his locker to see Cassie’s oddly persuasive smile. He exhaled softly. “Yeah, OK.” “Yay!!” Cassie leapt and clapped her hands together, looking for all the world like Ethan’s capitulation was the best thing that had ever happened to her. “I’ll make sure Mrs. Schaeffer has a ticket in your name in the main office!” The warning bell rang, and Cassie turned and skipped sideways down the hall, still chattering excitedly as she went. “You won’t regret it! It’s such a fun night! I’m so excited!!” Ethan rolled his shoulders back, looking bemused. Mandy closed her locker and stared appraisingly at him. “So what’s your deal?” she asked bluntly, never one to pass up a chance to get more of a story. “Huh?” Ethan blinked, as if he’d just realized Mandy was there. “Why were you so against the lock-in? And why did you let Cassie talk you into it?” Ethan straightened, then shrugged one shoulder, projecting casualness. “I didn’t want to miss work, but I guess I can get a sub,” he said smoothly. Tilting her chin up, Mandy narrowed her eyes. “I’m sorry.” Ethan had been looking behind him, nervous about getting to class on time, but he turned back at Mandy’s apology, confused. “Oh, it’s no big deal,” he said, shrugging again. “Like I said, I’ll get a sub…” “No,” Mandy shook her head, her face deliberately nonchalant. “I’m sorry I made you lie.” She stood just long enough to watch a look of alarm cross Ethan’s face, then turned to go to class. *** On Friday, the night of the lock-in, Mandy pulled her car into the school parking lot at about 7:30. There was no strict start time for the lock-in – some seniors actually just stayed after classes – but everyone had to be there by 8, when the doors of St. Benedict High School were locked. Then, the seniors had more or less free run of the school (no teachers’ lounge, no chemicals from the science rooms) until 1 PM the next day. There were snacks for the night, a continental-type breakfast, and then a big pizza lunch before everyone had to leave. Many students came already wearing sweats or pajama pants, while others had a change of clothes in their backpack, along with a toothbrush and any other items they deemed necessary for an enjoyable night: playing cards, extra snacks, movies for the rooms that had TVs set up, etc. For Mandy, her most important extra item was her camera. She was the head of the yearbook committee, since the school was too small to have a newspaper, and she took her job very seriously. Mandy wanted to be a reporter more than anything. She wanted to tell the truth, expose cover-ups, and give people as much information as possible, so they could be fully informed citizens. She wanted to get stories from the people who experienced them, not pundits talking on TV. Like many high school students of her generation, Mandy was irritated at the way she felt her generation was portrayed in the media. Between the cost of college (and the increased competition for many schools), stagnant wages, and school shootings, Mandy thought that it was well past time for younger people to have a voice, and she wanted to be part of that voice. And her desire to learn and share the truth had only grown more urgent since last school year. Just a few weeks before the summer, there had been a shooting at Belden High, which was about an hour and a half away from Mandy’s town. She didn’t know anyone there, personally, but St. Ben’s had played them a few times in various sports, and all of the students had been understandably shaken at something happening so close to home. Mandy more than most. In the weeks after the shooting, Mandy had obsessed over the thought that someone had to have known that the killer was angry, violent, and had access to a gun. Surely people knew by now that it could happen anywhere, that no one was safe. She knew, of course, that not every angry student was a shooter, and that there wasn’t a single set of behaviors that defined every killer, but she was still determined to notice things. Not just potential shooters, though – Mandy wanted to truly pay attention in her senior year and see who was in need, who was struggling, who needed encouragement around the school. She wanted to figure people out. And her current target was none other than Ethan Lane. Mandy looked around as she entered the cafeteria, where everyone had to gather for attendance and reading of the rules before the night began, but she didn’t see Ethan. Setting her things down on a chair, she mentally ran over what she knew about the transfer student. Ethan had shown up on the first day of school, tall and quiet. Because their class was comparatively small – only about eighty people – the presence of a new student in their senior year was pretty big news. However, though Ethan wasn’t exactly unfriendly, he wasn’t exactly forthcoming, either. When asked where he was from, he’d say something like “Oh, we moved around a lot, and now my mom got a job here.” When asked about his interests, he’d give a few generic answers, then say something about how he never really had time to do clubs or sports, because they moved so much. He didn’t talk much overall, so it’s not like his vague answers were overly suspicious, but Mandy had made it her mission to notice and understand, so… Ethan knew none of this. His only goal was to get through senior year without drawing too much attention. Even though spending the night in the school building didn’t sound at all appealing to him, he’d made the quick mental calculation while under Cassie’s persuasive gaze that not going was more noteworthy than going. And thus, Ethan found himself pulling into the school parking lot just before 8 on Friday night. He’d prepared, and he had a mental game plan – he’d just hang out with the class for a while, maybe watching a movie, maybe just chatting in the cafeteria, and then he’d feign weariness and find somewhere to sleep. Ethan steeled himself as he walked through the doors. He showed his ticket to the teacher at the check-in table, then scanned the room to see if there was some unobtrusive place to sit down. Cassie, surrounded by friends, waved him over enthusiastically, and Ethan had to settle for decidedly obtrusive instead. From her seat, Mandy watched Ethan intently. He looked uncomfortable, but not necessarily any more so than was warranted by the fact that he was the sole new kid walking into an overnight event. Still, she wanted to keep an eye on him. As Miss Lockwood, the AP English teacher and senior class advisor, stood to welcome everyone, Mandy slid out of her chair and sidled across the room to get a seat at Ethan’s table. The class was respectfully quiet as Miss Lockwood read through the rules – no alcohol, obviously, no sex, no destruction of school property, and no leaving before 1 the next day without explicit parental permission. She kept her words, short, however, and soon enough, the room erupted with friendly excitement. Some students sprinted off the find TVs, another group barreled toward the gym to start a dodgeball tournament, but Cassie and a handful of her friends stayed at their table. “So, Ethan!” Cassie grinned. “We’re so excited you decided to come! We’re so happy to have you in our class, and we can’t wait to get to know you better!” Ethan smiled. “I was actually hoping you could tell me more about all of you and the school,” he said smoothly. “You were right, Cassie – this is the perfect opportunity for me to learn everything the rest of you already know.” Cassie beamed, proud that her suggestion had been taken seriously, but Mandy was skeptical. This seemed like another ploy for Ethan to keep from having to talk about himself. “Here, before we get started…” Marisol pulled a bunch of bottles of Mexican sodas (all school-approved, of course) out of her bag, straight from her visit to her grandmother over the summer. “I brought plenty, so drink up!” Without even asking, she passed one to Ethan, who hesitated. “Don’t worry,” Marisol promised, winking, “there are no worms or weird, illegal herbs in them. It’s just like regular soda, just more flavorful.” “They’re great, Ethan, you’ll love them!” insisted Cassie. “Mari brings them every time she visits her family.” Ethan gave a half-smile and twisted the top off, having again decided that acquiescence was the way to go in this situation. He took a sip; the drink was really good, very fruity. It turned out to be a doubly strategic choice – as long as he had a soda, he could keep the bottle near his lips and use it as a chance to pause before answering any questions, often using that pause to quickly think of a way to deflect the conversation back to the other students at the table. It was an effective system, and Ethan barely had to speak over the next hour and a half, as Marisol kept replacing his empty bottles. Eventually, someone pulled out a pack of cards, and the table split into smaller groups, playing spades, hearts, and poker. It was a good way to pass the time, and Cassie had been right; it seemed like a pretty chill night. After far too many rounds of cards, with most people switching games at least once, and Ethan still not having to answer any detailed questions (much to Mandy’s consternation, as she’d very carefully kept within earshot of him), Cassie suggested heading to one of the TV rooms to relax and watch movies. Texts were sent, and it was determined that most of the group would head to the second floor religion classroom, where a Matrix marathon was currently going on. Ethan obediently followed the group upstairs; it was just after 11 now, and he’d promised himself he’d make it until midnight before “going to sleep.” Luckily, it was quiet in the classroom, save for the sounds from the movie. Ethan let out a breath, grateful to be further released from the demands of conversation. Settling into a desk, Ethan half paid attention to the screen, while Mandy fully paid attention to Ethan. He hadn’t said anything particularly strange or incriminating, but he still looked…off. Like he didn’t want to be fully involved, or like he was just waiting to be somewhere else. Mandy was partially right, at least. Ethan was more than ready to be somewhere else. He kept surreptitiously checking his phone as the movie went on, and finally, at 12:02 (he’d decided exactly midnight would be too suspicious), he shifted sideways. “I’m pretty tired,” he whispered to Cassie. “I think I’m gonna go find somewhere to sleep.” There were a few whispered protests, but Cassie shushed them. “I promised him we wouldn’t make him stay up all night!” She turned and smiled at Ethan. “Good luck – it’s always weird trying to sleep for real in a place that’s not meant for sleeping. We’ll see you in the morning!” Ethan visibly relaxed, grateful to have been released. “Yeah, see ya.” He slunk out of the classroom, carefully shutting the door behind him, but he didn’t head to the choir room. He hadn’t actually said that he was going to sleep in the designated room – just that he was going to sleep. Most of the teachers knew to clean out their rooms before senior lock-in, and others just kept their doors locked altogether. Ethan knew that Señora Garcia, the Spanish and Latin teacher, had a couch in her room and was relieved to find both the door open and no one else inside. He pulled his hoodie tight and curled up on the couch, proud that he’d made it to his self-assigned deadline. And deliberately ignoring the nagging sensation in his lower abdomen. Mandy, having faked a trip to the bathroom, watched Ethan step into the Spanish classroom. Hoping she wasn’t being too obvious, she glanced through the narrow window on the door and saw him sink onto the couch in the back of the room. Mandy sighed, mentally chastising herself for being paranoid. Ethan really did want to sleep. And for nearly three hours, he did just that. The school wasn’t huge, but it was big enough that the noise from the gym didn’t carry all the way around the building, and none of the TV rooms had the volume overly loud. Yes, it was slightly disconcerting to sleep in a dark school, but not so much that Ethan was unable to do so. Before 3 AM, however, Ethan awoke and spent a few seconds being confused before remembering that yes, he was in school overnight, and yes, he had just been sleeping on Señora Garcia’s couch. Once those realizations were complete, one more piece of awareness fell into place, and Ethan’s confusion was quickly replaced by terror. There was an awful, full feeling deep in his abdomen – one that he had directly planned against. Trying to remain calm, Ethan pulled out his phone. 2:53 Damn. There were still hours left. Ethan silently ran through his options, and managed to convince himself that he could just go back to sleep. This could be one of those weird times where it felt like he really had to pee, but then it didn’t actually get worse for a long time. He flipped over so he was facing the back of the couch and curled up, closing his eyes. He forcibly tried to fall asleep (which, of course, is a terribly ineffective way to fall asleep) for a half hour when an uncomfortable jolt from his bladder made him cringe and roll over. Now, Ethan was breathing hard. He knew what was going to happen, but he still tried to convince himself that he had options, that this wasn’t going to end horribly. Ethan sat up, pressing his thighs together. He rose and tiptoed toward the door, opening it as quietly as possible. He didn’t hear any noise coming directly from the hallway, so he stuck his head out to look around. He could hear distant noise coming from the gym, but he didn’t see anyone in the second floor hall. He carefully shut the door behind him, still trying to make as little noise as possible. The boys’ bathroom was on the other side of the school, so Ethan crept down the hallway, warily looking out for any classmates. Other than the noise from the gym, the school was eerily quiet. The main hallway lights were off, as were most classroom lights, and the safety lights gave off an odd glow, lending an uncanny feeling to the whole endeavor. Ethan walked slowly, rubbing his thighs together. As he approached the opposite wing, he began to breathe deeply, trying to convince himself that this would work. But as he pushed open the door to the restroom (empty, thank goodness), he knew his hopes were futile. He felt his pelvic muscles contract, and, even as he pulled himself free of his sweatpants, nothing happened. He clenched his teeth and bore down, but not one drop of urine escaped his exposed member. Ethan groaned and shoved his dick back in his pants. Stupid Mexican soda, he thought, though he knew he, not the soda, was to blame. Another wave of desperation rolled through his bladder, and Ethan gripped between his legs, thoroughly furious at his body’s lack of cooperation. He pressed his groin for a few seconds until the most immediate urgency passed, then tried to think of what else he could do. There was another bathroom on the third floor. Maybe, he told himself, it would be completely quiet up there, with no lingering noise from the gym, and he’d be able to relax enough… Back in the hallway, Ethan looked around again. He still didn’t see anyone, though he saw the flickering light, presumably from a TV, in the history classroom a few doors down. Deciding to be extra careful, he went the opposite way toward the main stairwell. The gym noise was more pronounced by the stairs, but it did diminish as he climbed up to the third floor. There seemed to be no one at all upstairs, which was both unnerving and relieving. As he turned left toward the bathroom, Ethan’s bladder spasmed, and he felt a leak slip into his underwear. He choked out a sob, then threw a hand over his mouth to muffle any noise. He shoved open the bathroom door, but his heart was already racing. The thing about school bathrooms is they all look pretty much the same, and as soon as Ethan set foot in the room, his muscles locked up completely. Frantically, Ethan once again stood in front of a urinal, pointing his dick at the bowl, but nothing happened. Despite the sheer volume of liquid inside of him, his bladder would not release. “Come ON!” Ethan leaned forward and pounded his fist against the wall, to no avail. Panicked tears prickled his eyes. His heart continued to race, and he feared he would pass out if he stayed in the bathroom. Stumbling out the door, hands pressed between his legs, no longer bothering to scan the hallway, Ethan shuffled forward, completely out of options. He couldn’t use the restroom like a normal person, no, and he couldn’t ask to leave, not that he’d make it until he got home, anyway. He leaked again, warm and glistening through his sweatpants, as if to underlie his mental calculus. Stupid Mexican sodas! Shuffling forward, Ethan frantically tried several doors before he found one that was unlocked. He tripped forward, barely pushing at the door to close it behind him. In the last part of his brain not consumed with terror and desperation, he realized that he was in the chemistry lab. Ethan lumbered about halfway across the room before lurching against one of the lab stations. He slid around the side of it, as if blocking his lower half from view of the door would somehow make this situation better. “No, no…” Ethan couldn’t help but whining as his leaks became more frequent. He was scared, he was angry at himself for getting into this situation, and he was in pain. Before he could think anymore, though, Ethan’s muscles gave out, and hot liquid gushed down his legs with almost mocking force. Ethan sagged against the chemistry station as he wet himself, hanging his head in defeat. This was always what was going to happen, of course, and he’d known it from the minute he’d woken up on the couch. His lower lip trembled, but he didn’t cry. The unfamiliarity of standing in a dark chemistry classroom at 3:30 in the morning served as a buffer to the worst of the humiliation of having an accident at age 18 in a technically public place. The trickling sound of his accident seemed to echo through the empty room, and Ethan tensed with shame. The feeling of physical relief was nothing compared to the fury he felt at himself for allowing this to happen. Out in the hallway, Mandy crept up the last stair and looked around. Still paranoid, she’d been making periodic checks of the Spanish classroom since Ethan had gone to sleep. When, at her last pass, she’d peeked in and seen him gone, she let herself get a bit nervous. She’d done a quick scan of the remaining “group” rooms, and, having come up empty, decided to search the third floor. She glanced around the hallway and noticed one door slightly ajar. The chemistry lab. Mandy’s heart rate spiked, and she tried her hardest to remain rational as she slowly stepped toward the unlatched door. Just because the new kid, the one who wouldn’t give a straight answer, was in the chemistry lab in the middle of the night, when nearly every member of the senior class was literally locked in the building, didn’t mean he was doing something cruel, right? Mandy paused outside the lab and listened. There was definitely someone in there; she could hear irregular breathing. She straightened her shoulders, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open. Ethan’s head snapped up. He was standing about halfway across the room, half hidden behind a lab station. He looked horrified at being discovered, and Mandy felt her palms beginning to sweat. “What are you doing in here?” she demanded, trying to keep her voice from shaking. “N-nothing,” Ethan stammered, doing nothing to ease Mandy’s fears. “You’re not supposed to be in here.” Mandy took one step forward, reaching into her back pocket for her phone. “The door was open,” Ethan said, frozen by Mandy’s movement. She couldn’t see him, she couldn’t come any closer. “You shouldn’t be in here,” Mandy repeated, walking a bit closer, one step at a time, like she was in a wedding processional. “I just…wanted to see…” Ethan had no excuses. His brain was muddled and frantic, and all he wanted was for Mandy to stop moving toward him. He couldn’t tell, but Mandy was just as frantic. Ethan’s erratic behavior was all but confirming her suspicions. Each student looked in terror at the other, eyes wide, both petrified at what they thought was going to happen. “You’re not allowed…” “I didn’t mean anything…” “Ethan, what are you doing?” “Please stop…” “I can’t let you…” “No, please…” “You don’t have to do this…” “No, nooooo…” But Ethan’s pleas did nothing, and with one last forced step forward, Mandy stood in the aisle, staring directly at her classmate, finally able to take in the full scenario. The safety lighting in the chemistry room was dim, but enough for Mandy to see Ethan’s soaked pants and the giant puddle on the tile floor. “Oh!” she gasped. Her stomach flipped with relief, confusion, and secondhand embarrassment. She’d been so, so wrong. Ethan dropped his head, eyes welling with tears too numerous to hold back. His knees shook, and he braced himself against the lab station to keep from collapsing into his own mess. “I…” Mandy gaped in the silence, ashamed of her own paranoia. “Ethan, I’m sorry.” Ethan didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. Mandy spoke again, compelled to explain herself. “I was scared. I was being unreasonable. I had convinced myself that you were, I don’t know, making a bomb or something, or hiding guns up here.” She saw Ethan’s shoulders tense and felt even worse. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated, voice small. “Ever since the Belden shooting, I’ve been super nervous about anything out of the ordinary. It’s stupid.” Mandy stared, but Ethan’s head was still down. She thought she saw a tear drip off his chin, and she wondered if she should just leave. She was just about to turn away when Ethan spoke. “It’s not.” Mandy leaned forward, unsure if she’d head correctly. “What?” “It’s not weird,” Ethan repeated, a bit louder, then sniffed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. He finally looked up at Mandy, and the broken, knowing look on his face took her breath away. “It’s not weird to be scared.” Mandy allowed the weight of his words to wash over her, and then she knew. “You were there.” Ethan paused for a second, and another tear slid down his cheek. Then he nodded. “Oh, God.” Now Mandy felt even worse. Not only had she suspected a classmate with no real reasoning, she’d suspected a survivor. Mandy’s heart ached, but her intense curiosity and search for the truth kept her speaking. “Is that why you didn’t want to come tonight?” Ethan’s shoulders slumped. He’d told himself that this was exactly what he didn’t want to happen; he didn’t want anyone at St. Ben’s knowing where he’d come from, why he’d transferred. But now, standing in wet pants at nearly 4 in the morning, keeping his story bottled up didn’t seem like the best idea. He rolled his neck back and forth. “Kind of,” he finally answered. “I… I was in the bathroom when it happened. You know, you hear these awful noises, and you don’t let yourself realize what they are right away, because how could there be gunshots, you know? Even though that’s a thing now,” he added bitterly. “It was at the end of the school year, so, you know, we didn’t go back, and my parents were already looking for places to move, so I wouldn’t have to go back there, but then over the summer…” Ethan paused, embarrassed but compelled to continue. He took another deep breath. “We toured a few schools over the summer, because we wanted to make sure I felt comfortable in the building and the staff understood what had happened, but then at one, I had to go to the bathroom, but when I got in there, I just…couldn’t.” Ethan felt his face burn with shame at the admission, even though he’d already very obviously wet himself. He couldn't explain any more, even though he was pretty sure Mandy still didn't understand. She'd think it was just anxiety, PTSD or something, but it was more than that. He physically couldn't go in school bathrooms, and he hated himself for it. After a few seconds, realizing there was no more to that particular bit of the story, Mandy spoke up. “So you just…never go at school?” Ethan shook his head miserably. “I go right before I drive here, and then I just don’t drink anything, or not much of anything, during the day, so I never have to.” “But…” Stunned by this new information, Mandy tried to understand. “…how were you planning on making it through the lock-in? It’s 17 hours!” If possible, Ethan’s face fell even further. “My mom spoke to Miss Lockwood and got permission for me to leave at 8 AM,” he explained. “I thought I just had to make it til then.” “And then Marisol brought the sodas,” Mandy filled in, everything clicking into place. Ethan nodded, and a fresh batch of tears fell from both eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry I scared you.” “Oh –“ Mandy couldn’t help but reach toward him. “Ethan, no. Please…it’s not your fault.” Ethan blinked rapidly, futilely trying to clear the tears out of his eyes. Between his accident and his confession, he was exhausted and out of all ability to control his emotions. “Look…” Mandy reached out again. “Ethan, let me help.” Sniffling, child-like, Ethan looked up. “Where’s your bag?” Mandy asked, quietly taking control. “Did you bring extra clothes?” Ethan shook his head, crestfallen. “I…I didn’t think I’d be staying.” “That’s fine,” Mandy soothed. “I’ll sneak into the drama room. There’s bound to be something in there. Stay here,” she ordered. “I’ll be back soon.” In the silence left by Mandy, Ethan sniffled deeply. Disgusted, he stepped out of his puddle and grabbed some paper towels from the cleaning station to clean up his accident. It was an obnoxiously big puddle, and by the time he was wiping up the last of it, Mandy slipped back in the lab. “Here.” She laid a few options on the table, none of which were as bright or sparkly as Ethan had feared. “I…” Ethan stared at the pants, knowing they didn’t solve all of his problems. He looked back up at Mandy, imploringly. “I can’t stay,” he murmured. “What…what if I have to go again?” Mandy tilted her head to the side, thinking. She knew better than to try to convince Ethan that it would be fine. “Does Miss Lockwood know that you went to Belden?” she asked. Ethan nodded. “OK, then let me talk to her. I won’t tell her what happened!” Mandy insisted quickly, seeing Ethan’s anxious reaction. “I’ll just tell her that you’re uncomfortable being here. I’m sure she’ll let you go.” Mentally, Ethan warred with himself for a few seconds, but the fear of having to pee again won out. “OK,” he whispered. Mandy left to seek out the senior advisor, and Ethan quickly stripped off his sticky, cooling pants and underwear, reeling from the events of the last 45 minutes. He slipped on a pair of gray flannel pants, silently sending an apology to the arts department. A few minutes later, Mandy returned, smiling softly. “Miss Lockwood said it’s fine,” she explained, and relief hit Ethan like a bucket of cold water. “She said she’d meet us downstairs to let you out the side door. You just have to promise to text when you get home.” Ethan could only nod, nearly lightheaded with the consolation that he didn’t have to stay any longer. Mandy was already walking toward the door, narrating soothing words. “No one will see us. Most everyone is asleep by now, and the ones that aren’t won’t be anywhere near the side door. Don’t worry.” Downstairs, Miss Lockwood smiled encouragingly at Ethan and made no comment about the pants balled up in his arms. She unlocked the door, then respectfully stepped aside. “Are you going to be OK?” Mandy asked, staring up at Ethan earnestly. Ethan looked out toward the parking lot, the sense of impending comfort and freedom already easing the tightness in the back of his throat. He looked down at his unlikely rescuer. “I will be.”
  23. Version 1.0.0

    2,247 downloads

    Available for purchase: http://www.dlsite.com/maniax/work/=/product_id/RJ183582.html There are, from what I can tell, 6 or more of these games. I don't know where in the series this release came. You can find 1, 2, 4 and "The Other School Inspection" here: 3 has not yet been uploaded. My Japanese isn't good enough to tell exactly what's going on in this game, but here's what it seems like: A janitor from a girl's academy has convinced a number of recent graduates to gather and test their courage in a spooky-looking old building. The game has a focus both on making the girls wet themselves by scaring them through a choice of rooms and items, or even making them faint and assaulting them while unconscious. Rape is sometimes unskippable. I wouldn't know how to translate the game itself but we can probably figure how to play it properly! Some screenshots with translations are attached. Message me if there's some more UI text you want me to attempt to translate. Keep in mind that there are 2 more women (older women) to unlock, unpictured below, by making enough girls faint at least once.

    Free

  24. desertfc

    Tremethyk

    Hi guys, long time no post. Some of you may remember a story I started working on a few years ago that got quickly shelved. It was named 'Where is Alec Tremethick?', you can still find it here if you look back far enough. The challenge that I took on with that project lay in trying to create a narrative that was compelling in and of itself while still being essentially an omo story. The reason I stopped adding to it wasn't that I lost interest in it, more that the narrative had not yet fully developed in my mind. As it started to become a more complete picture in my head I realised how utterly inadequate the first few entries were - entertaining though they had been to write. There were a number of things I wasn't happy with, but three things stood out in particular: firstly, the egregious dip in writing standards at the end of Chapter 2; secondly, the appalling character assassination that concluded Chapter 3; and thirdly, I did not feel that the characters were being rendered quite as I saw them in my head - save maybe Martin. I've gone back and rewritten a lot. Chapter 1 is much the same as it was with just a few minor tweaks. Chapter 2 has been significantly rewritten, especially the end with which I was previously deeply dissatisfied. Chapter 3 has gotten the chop. Though Kate is an integral character to the story, I've decided to introduce her much later in the story and in such a way that does not shred her integrity just for the sake of showing that she's a badass. She is a badass. But outright murdering people she could arrest is not something she would ever do, and her integrity as a cop is one of the key conflicts of the storyline. So Chapter 3 doesn't work. Meanwhile I prefer to keep the focus on who the real protagonist of the story is: Elise. The first half of the story focuses significantly more on her character development. As such, I have an entirely new Chapter 3 to replace the old one. There's also a brand new Chapter 4, and a prologue that I think adds a bit extra to the story. The good news or bad news depending upon how you look at it is that the story now runs to just shy of 13,000 words and we're not quite halfway. In any case, I've decided to lay down here what I've gotten to so far, although I now know better than to make promises for when the next chapters are going to appear. Anyway, hope you're all doing well. Enjoy, Des Tremethyk Prologue At the carefully selected location high above the dockyard a man cupped his hands against the cool early Sunday morning breeze as he lit his last cigarette. He'd had a commanding view of the forest of dockworkers and paraphernalia when he'd been standing on this exact spot just hours before. But now a thick cloud of fog obscured the waterfront and the piers below. It made no real difference to him. He had people where he needed them to be. For now he had only to wait. He did not move as footsteps approached his position from somewhere in the distance behind him. He stood there savouring his vice as the rhythmic thuds grew louder before turning metallic as another man came up the gangway behind him. 'Nothing yet, Aiden?' the smoker asked his visitor casually, as the man in the greatcoat and trilby stepped up alongside him and leaned over the side gripping the railing. Aiden pushed himself back and brushed off the front of his coat. 'Not a peep, sir,' Aiden replied softly, not looking his boss in the eye. 'I'm not "sir"', the man reminded him, waving his cigarette irritably, 'Not out here. You know better than that.' Aiden smiled to himself weakly. 'Sorry, Arthur,' Aiden pled meekly, 'But my answer remains the same.' Arthur snorted and stomped his feet on the steel platform impatiently. 'What are we doing out here?' Arthur complained petulantly, 'Bloody middle of the night dockyard liaisons? Seriously, who does that?' 'It's happening here, Arthur,' Aiden insisted, 'we've been over this a hundred times.' 'I'm not saying you're wrong,' Arthur responded, 'I'm saying anybody with half a brain would know it was a terrible idea. I find it hard to believe that his contacts agreed to it.' 'Very hard to believe, Arthur.' Arthur shot Aiden an inquisitive glance, but said nothing. The pressure must be getting to him, Arthur thought to himself. Arthur clapped his friend on the back. 'Don't fret, lad,' Arthur assured him, 'You're right. We've thought of everything. Can't go wrong.' Aiden sighed and closed his eyes. Preparation was the key and he'd gone over every detail until his eyes had bled. He knew he'd never get this kind of opportunity again and he was determined to make the most of it. Even Arthur had shown some admiration for the thoroughness of the planning that Aiden had allowed him to see. Still… 'Tremethyk didn't seem all that keen on it yesterday afternoon…?' Aiden ventured, watching his boss closely. Arthur frowned. 'That daft playboy's losing his marbles,' Arthur declared gruffly, 'Who cares what he thinks?' 'He thinks this is a bad idea, then?' 'Who cares what he thinks?' Arthur repeated obdurately. 'Well, maybe we could-' 'It's gonna work, goddammnit,' Arthur insisted, 'I know these types. Get so caught up in their persona of bullshit that they lose touch with reality. They'd be the devil to catch if they weren't totally up their own arses. But our fellows are better trained,' he added proudly. 'Yeah…' Aiden trailed off. 'Anyway - get your head in the game, son,' Arthur chided his subordinate, 'it won't be long now.' The two men continued to stand vigil up above. Arthur was almost right. It had already begun. Chapter One: Dust Dark. Cool. Dry. A gloomy cellar. The room was nearly silent. The only sounds came from the wind and the twigs of the ash tree outside as they skittered across the narrow, grimey slat glass window near the ceiling. Every so often sunlight would flash through the waving boughs and then through the window to illuminate fractions of the room. Save for the afternoon's rays the room would be completely dark. In the corner a steep spiral staircase rose out of sight, the stone steps worn by ages of use. Leaning on the opposite wall was a very tall and wide semicircular cedar table some four metres in diameter. Scattered around the rest of the room were three dilapidated wooden chairs, an easel, a vice, a bucket, and a work bench covered in tools and dust. Somewhat unusually, the room was occupied. A young auburn-haired lady of no more than twenty five years lay bound and gagged and motionless underneath the cedar table. It would not be immediately clear to a hypothetical rescuer whether the woman lay alive or dead. Her torso and her legs right down to her tightly bound ankles were blanketed by a very wide gentleman's coat. She appeared petite for a woman of her age and the coat seemed to have been designed in mind of a man more than twice her size. Had she two bound companions of similar size on either side of her they would all three have comfortably fit under the extraordinarily large garment. But she lay alone - and alive for the time being. The wind picked up outside and the small branches started to rap on the window with more urgency as if they understood the woman's predicament. The noise finally seemed to elicit a response and a small moan escaped the woman's taped over lips as she awoke. Elise opened her eyes blearily. She tried to stretch before remembering her bonds and how she had come to be here. Still in this room, then... and still alone. Damn. Elise was surprised by how calm she felt upon waking this time. This was her second day of captivity and still she had not seen a living soul since she had been chloroformed and plucked off a quiet street the previous day in broad daylight. It was tricky to move with her hands, thighs and ankles bound together, but her unknown kidnapper had mercifully bound her wrists in front of her. She found that the limited freedom this gave her made squirming across the floor possible and she chose this moment to wiggle out from the coat and lean her back against the wall underneath the table. Elise shifted a little uneasily on the hard stone and her loose business skirt clung damply to her bottom. She had wet herself twice since being captured; when she had woken up on the cellar floor for the first time the day before in a panic, and the following morning when her bladder reached its capacity and she tearfully realised that she could hold it no longer. She had felt humiliated upon realising both accidents, particularly the second which had soaked her skirt and tights leaving a massive puddle at the base of the stairs. Though nobody had seen her disgrace herself she still could not help but feel impotent outrage at the people who had dumped her there like a chained animal. She was hungry, dehydrated, cramping, and in her forty hours in the room nobody had come to show any interest as to whether she was alive or dead. She grimly thought to herself that it seemed likely that they didn't care. The bound girl sat there for a few minutes listening to the twigs that had awoken her, straining her hearing and willing herself to hear from outside any other sound that might indicate the presence of another person nearby. She could hear nothing of the kind. Looking around the room, Elise got an uneasy sense that something had changed. The light was starting to fade as the sun went down outside and she realised that she would only have a handful more precious minutes to move about the room before it would get pitch black and she would have to bed down for the night. Deciding that she would try to see if she could hear anything from inside the house, she wiggled across the room to the base of the stairs. She skirted the far wall, flushing as she remembered to avoid the puddle of her urine that she had left near the stairs earlier in the day. Having reached the base of the stairs, she leaned against the wall and tried to determine whether any sound came from within the house. She could only hear the whirr of an air-conditioner, and before long she realised that something else was out of place. She looked to where she had accidented earlier that day and she noticed the puddle was completely gone! Bewildered, she leaned down and gingerly put her face to the floor to confirm her suspicion. She sniffed. Pine detergent?! Somebody had been inside while she had slept! She looked over to the corner where she had first awoke the day before and noticed with a shock that the drying remains of the first puddle had been mopped away as well. Somebody's been inside and they cared more about their stupid floor than me!, Elise realised with indignation. Trying to shout through her gag, Elise attempted to climb the steps to bang on the door with her wrists, but found climbing the steep steps in her condition to be quite impossible. Her elbows slipped and banged painfully into the bottom steps. Tears sprang to her eyes as she collapsed exasperated and upset back onto the floor. She sobbed bitterly. Elise wouldn't treat her worst enemy with such contempt, and she couldn't imagine what it was that she could have done to have been singled out for this treatment. After some minutes spent sprawled on the floor, she miserably slid back under the table using her bound wrists to lever the coat over her body again. But no sooner had she settled down before she heard a door open somewhere above and behind her and footsteps crossing the ceiling. Heart suddenly racing and with a dry mouth and an unsettling feeling in the pit of her stomach the girl watched fearfully as she heard the cellar door get wrenched open and footsteps begin to descend the stairs. Chapter 2: Die Vorschlaghammer In a quiet area on the outskirts of the city, a single car sped down a lonely road lined with unfinished housing blocks. Even as dusk fell, the streets lay mostly unilluminated and the headlights of the vehicle blazed a path of white light through the dim twilight that prevailed over the avenues of ghostly concrete shells and scaffolding. The lone occupant of the sedan gazed out the window at what was effectively his kingdom. Through a series of strategic, carefully-planned construction contracts on behalf of Syndicate-aligned firms, Alan Sanders had succeeded in clandestinely taking control of the continued development of the entire district and through the use of some industrial shenanigans had brought further development of the area to a complete standstill. For the time being, the Syndicate owned the neighbourhood and it suited them to keep it sparsely populated. The situation could have caused a significant public scandal if certain 'independent' surveyors commissioned during the later stages of development hadn't conveniently found previously undetected chemical contaminants in the soil at multiple sites throughout the area making further suburban development totally out of the question. Now the councils were making up excuses to the public and doing the Syndicate's covering up for them. It couldn't carry on forever, but in the eyes of Alan's few superiors it was a real stroke of genius which had propelled the young man to his lofty position in the organisation's ranks. Unfortunately for Alan, his reputation tended to precede him throughout the organisation. It was for this very reason that his subordinates had failed to inform him of their kidnapping of Elise Wakefield until the day after the blunder was committed. As he closed in on the safe house at the end of the road in which she was being detained, he knew very well that he was in damage control. Alan had no use for this hostage with which he had been saddled. He could have had her disappeared, but this thought struck Alan as ungentlemanly. In an odd kind of way, he was an honourable man. Certainly, an honourable crook. It was true that few in the Syndicate were feared as much as Alan, but his reputation for ruthlessness was perhaps a little misplaced. He had certainly never let expediency trump his conscience when it came to unrelated members of the public and he deplored needless violence. Of course, that didn't change the fact that he had to get rid of his prisoner and to do so fast. But he couldn't just push her out onto the street they'd spirited her away from like nothing had happened. First, he needed certainty. The car pulled into the driveway and Alan retrieved a balaclava from the glovebox. For a second he eyed the material with some resentment. Alan was very much a gentleman's gentleman and he did not enjoy dressing himself up as a thug. On the other hand, he absolutely could not afford to be identifiable and he was going to have to speak to his prisoner face-to-face. It only had to stay on until he could ensure that she was properly blindfolded, Alan reasoned. So, with a measure of reluctance he pulled the woollen material down over his face, exited the car, strode up the driveway and entered the house. The front door admitted Alan into a kind of entrance hall. To his immediate left lay a fully furnished lounge room, while a doorway on his right would have taken him to a dining room with an attached kitchen. Stairs at the back of the hall ascended to the upper level which contained bedrooms and a bathroom. Of interest to Alan and adjacent to the stairs was a wooden and stained-glass pane door beyond which lay the descending stone spiral staircase which led to the basement workshop in which his guest was being entertained. As he crossed the floor to open the door he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the door's coloured-glass panels; a short, stocky man in a business suit… and balaclava. He snorted at the jarring asymmetry of it and then he was through the door and descending the stairs. The room came into sight as Alan rounded the last few steps and he came to a halt at the base. He could see from his vantage point that the prisoner was lying on her side underneath the cedar table on the other side of the room. He couldn't see her face and she seemed to be feigning sleep. Alan wasn't buying it, however, and he decided that taking charge at this stage meant using his voice. A suitably fake voice, of course. 'You are awake, Miss Wakefield,' Alan asserted in a more gravelly voice than normal. 'And I am not here to play games. You have some questions to answer and if your answers are truthful, I may grant you your release.' Alan smirked to himself as Elise betrayed her sleeping act by visibly jolting into alertness. 'Before you can answer my questions, however, I will be blindfolding you,' Alan continued. 'You are to keep your eyes shut until then. You must not ever see my face.' Hearing a timorous moan of acknowledgement, Alan managed a thin smile and tugged the balaclava off as he crossed the floor and tossed it aside. Where Elise lay underneath the table, Alan could see that she had her eyes clenched almost theatrically tight. Good. She understands. This should be fixable. He gently dragged the petite redhead out from under the table then rolled her onto her side to face her away from him so he could safely blindfold her without any risk of being seen. A pretty young lady, he thought to himself. Though he supposed that it shouldn't make a difference. Reaching into his breast pocket, Alan withdrew a large handkerchief and folded it lengthways to serve as a blindfold. He then gently lifted Elise's unresisting head off the ground to apply the blindfold, carefully manipulating the fabric around her soft tresses of chestnut-red curls. As he did so he noticed that she was shaking and he could see streaks of tears on her cheeks. Alan felt a twinge of sympathy, but he was a professional and he had his job to do. Blindfold successfully fitted, Alan sat down on the stone floor behind the bound girl. 'I'm sorry about all of this,' Alan said softly and with some genuine sympathy. 'I don't want to hurt you... If I can make it happen, I'd like to let you go.' 'But first, I must ask you a very important question,' Alan continued wearily. 'I have to ensure that you cannot betray me should I decide to release you. I will remove the tape over your mouth to allow you to answer.' 'But be assured that any screaming will result in a termination of this… interview, as well as of any chance you have of leaving here alive'. Alan added harshly. 'Do you understand?' Elise made a noise somewhere between a squeak and mumble. 'Very well'. Alan reached down and removed her gag. 'Please don't kill me, please, please, I swear I won't tell anyone, I won't say anything-' Elise gabbled, her voice shaking. 'Calm yourself,' Alan soothed, taken aback by her desperation. 'Elise, isn't it? Listen to me, Elise, my name is… My name is Alan. And that's the truth.' Harmless detail. Anybody would assume it to be a false name, anyway. 'I meant what I said,' he continued, 'I don't want to hurt you. I wish you had never been brought here and I want you to go home tonight. But it's not as simple as that... I do need to know what you know about why you're here. Do you know where you are? Do you know why you're here?' Alan enquired, his voice level, but his heart racing. This was crucial. 'I don't know! I swear!' Elise pleaded, praying that her kidnapper would hear the truth in her voice. 'I was walking to my car, you grabbed me, and I woke up here! I didn't see anything, I don't remember anything, please mister, I promise I don't know-…' Alan gently shushed her to calm her down. Inwardly he was sighing in relief. She thought that he was her kidnapper. The morons who'd actually done it had at least managed it without compromising themselves to the victim. They had earned themselves a much less painful death. 'Hmmm. Well, Miss, I don't really see any harm in letting you go home tonight,' Alan said. 'But if that's what you want then you're going to do exactly what I say, when I say it. And that starts with you staying quiet for the time being.' 'Thank you, sir!' Elise breathed, hardly daring to believe her ears. 'I swear I won't tell a soul.' 'I would know if you did, believe me,' growled Alan, but without much menace. 'Now I hope you won't take offence if I reapply the tape.' She started to speak again but he was already regagging her. He then bent down to pick her up. He got one hand under her right shoulder and she mewled something in protest. Getting his other hand under her thighs, he realised her skirt was damp and he jerked back his hand in surprise. Then he saw the oval shaped dark patch on the seat of the girl's skirt. She's pissed her pants! Christ almighty, don't tell me those cretins left her down here on her own for hours at a time. Sitting her back upright with her back to the wall he removed her gag. 'Miss, I noticed you, er… had an… accident.'. Alan had dropped the pretence of his false voice completely. The discovery had made him angry. 'I… I couldn't hold it!' Elise blurted out in an angry sob. 'You just left me here! I couldn't do anything!' 'Just left here?!' Alan exclaimed, aghast. 'You haven't been untied at all? What about for meals?' 'N- No! I haven't even seen anyone! I haven't had anything to eat or drink since I got here! And I had to… go to the bathroom on myself,' she cried indignantly, flushing as she confessed. Fucking hell. They just left her here? Brutes! They'll pay dearly for this. 'Jesus. I'm going to get you some water. I'll be back.' Alan ascended the stairs in a rush leaving Elise sitting there alone. She had no idea what was going on. Was this man her kidnapper? Had this been some stupid joke that had gone wrong? Why had he only turned up after all this time? It boggled the mind. She could hear the plumbing working upstairs, and with some unease the sound jolted a reminder to her that in spite of her earlier accidents she had still not pooped for a couple of days and she would need to go soon or risk having an even more humiliating accident. A few minutes later, Alan came down the stairs holding a sandwich and a jug of liquid which fizzed audibly as he approached. 'Berocca,' he said by way of explanation. 'I've brought you a sandwich as well. I'll unbind your hands so you can eat and drink. After that we are leaving. Wrists.' She presented him her wrists and started to mumble her request just as she felt her tummy cramp, causing her to jerk her hands a bit. 'What was that?' Alan asked sharply. 'I… I have to go to the bathroom again.' Elise mumbled, blushing beneath her blindfold. 'Oh! Oh, okay, well, there are facilities upstairs. But drink that first. You're dehydrated, you'll feel a lot better for it. Now… wrists, please.' Elise bit back the impudent response that leapt to her brain and simply nodded and presented her wrists again. She would be able to hold it a while longer and the deprivation of fluids during her incarceration was indeed causing her a nasty headache to go along with all her other troubles. 'I know it can't make up for anything or even really mean much,' Alan rambled, a little defensively. 'Nevertheless, I really can't tell you how sorry I am about the way you've been treated. The people responsible for this will be held accountable, you have my word.' Aren't you responsible? Elise thought to herself with some confusion and a little bitterness. But at the same time she felt a nervous, hopeful energy. She was going to be released. With her hands now free she felt a glass being proffered to her. She gulped down the contents gratefully. Under other circumstances she'd have been nervous that the drink might have been tampered with. But she was completely in this man's power anyway, and it did not seem as though he wanted her harmed. With the glass emptied she started on the sandwich which had been tossed onto her lap. She heard her captor refill the glass and take a drink from it himself. Definitely not drugged, then. Elise heard the glass being topped up again before Alan stood up and strode back over to the stairs. She finished the sandwich and picked up the glass again. It did not take her long to drain the second glass, but she decided not to return for a third. The urge to relieve herself had not abated during her meal, and to her surprise she even felt some pressure growing in her bladder. She thought her body could not have had all that much liquid in it left. Realising that her need was more pressing than she'd hoped, Elise addressed Alan again. 'Mister Alan, please. I need to go to the bathroom now.' Elise asked as politely but urgently as she could manage, sheepishly feeling like a schoolgirl asking her teacher for permission for the bathroom. As she said it, her tummy cramped momentarily and to her embarrassment she was unable to stop a fart from escaping audibly. Flushing pink to the roots of her hair and a little annoyed to have been ignored, she asked again. 'Please, sir,' she whimpered, 'I really need to go!' 'Be quiet!' Alan snapped suddenly from near the stairs, a razor edge in his voice taking her by surprise. Stung by the rebuke, Elise fell silent and tried to understand what she could have done to antagonise him. The answer came to her moments later when she heard other voices coming from upstairs. Were they police? Should she call out? Surely they'd find her anyway? A stream of thoughts rushed through her head as she tried to process the arrival of others. She was so caught up in them that she didn't hear Alan's near noiseless approach. 'The people upstairs are the ones who took you,' Alan suddenly hissed in her ear, nearly causing her to void into her underwear in fright. 'but it was a… a case of mistaken identity? You don't have what they want. Unfortunately, they're not the kind to throw back a catch and my bet is that they have come to liquidate you.' 'L-liquidate?' Elise rasped with a growing feeling of dread. 'Liquidate,' Alan repeated obliquely. 'They are stupid and cowardly and they tend to look for… short cuts…' Elise completely tensed up. Was this a trick? It sounded absurd, the kind of surrealism that you might expect in a movie. But she couldn't - wouldn't - bet her life on it. 'W-what… What can we do?' she asked nervously. For a moment there was silence. 'I need you to trust me.' 'What? What does that mean?' Elise asked desperately and almost too loudly, fearing what the answer might be. 'I am going to return you to the condition in which I found you and then I will head back into the house and wait for our friends to get separated. I will deal with them one at a time.' Elise gulped. So there was going to be violence. And if he couldn't overcome the others… 'Please,' she begged, 'Please don't leave me here. Don't let them-… Don't let them….' Her voice broke as she stammered over the sentence she couldn't bring herself to say. She felt her blindfold being pulled off and she blinked in the gloom, tears clouding her vision. She could blearily take in her captor crouching before her; a young man only a little older than she was. He had thick dark hair, grey eyes, greying stubble, and he was dressed in a neat navy suit. 'I will have to leave you here,' he said with a strange look on his face. 'But I won't let them hurt you. You have my word.' He quickly refastened her wrist bindings and reapplied the tape. He then placed the makeshift blindfold, the jug, and the glass into a box under the workbench. He then quietly reascended the stairs, flicking the light back off as he went. Elise was left alone in the dark and quiet room once more. She shivered, frightened of the uncertain fate that awaited her and becoming increasingly aware of the pressure building in the back and in the front. Time passed, perhaps an hour with her huddled in the dark. She quietly farted every now and then releasing the pressure that was building up, but she knew she couldn't hold it forever. She could hear the voices above her having an animated conversation although she couldn't make out their words. At one point it seemed to become quite heated and she was sure she heard a glass being broken. What are they talking about? How would Alan be able to separate them? Why is it taking so long, she thought as she shifted uncomfortably. Then she heard heavy footsteps cross the ceiling again and a door opened at the top of the stairs. The light came on. '-… -nd get her. You call Handscombe.' Elise was thunderstruck. That wasn't Alan's voice. What was he doing?! He'd been right there on his haunches in front of her - his grey-eyed gaze boring into her frightened viridian eyes - and he'd left her with a promise to protect her. Hadn't he? But with a sinking feeling, Alan's first instruction came rushing back and engulfed her like a bath of ice, tensing her body and sapping the breath from her chest. 'You must not ever see my face.' he'd said. And she had, hadn't she? But he was the one who'd taken off her blindfold. She didn't ask him to do that. It wasn't fair! Why did he do that? Was he just planning to let them finish her off after all? She heard the footsteps draw closer and closer until a giant of a man rounded the base of the stairs. 'Well, well… Princess Pissypants is awake!' he proclaimed in a rough voice to the sound of laughter upstairs. Filled with doubts, Elise squealed and tried to wriggle backwards away from the man. He leered at her as she bumped her head into one of the table legs behind her. 'We're going on a loooonnnng drive, baby doll. If you be a good girl I might even get you a fresh diaper on the way.' He advanced on her with a wicked smirk as she squirmed under the table to get away from him. 'Come on, now, come on out to Daddy,' the man said with glittering eyes. 'If you come out now, I promise I won't even hurt you. Maybe, anyway.' Suddenly there were some shouts from upstairs and a loud crash. The man paused and half-turned. 'Hey, what's going on up there?' he shouted with a nervous edge in his voice. Elise profited from the distraction by rolling herself as far under the table as she could manage. She pushed her back up against the wall and tucked up her knees to get her feet as far away from the edge of the table as possible. She wasn't crying now, but she was shaking violently, silently pleading for the man to take the bait; to leave her alone and go back upstairs. Having received no answer from upstairs, the man seemed to hesitate. He took a step towards the staircase, then seemed to think better of it and rounded on Elise again. 'Come out now or when I get my hands on you I will tear your throat out with my bare hands!' he roared. Elise was paralysed with terror. This is it, then. Whatever's happening upstairs, down here it's just me and the monster. She was dimly aware of a warmth spreading underneath her ass. She looked down and could see a puddle growing where she sat as she forcefully peed into her nylons with no control or restraint. But even realising this loss of composure, she knew she could not give in. Going out there would be a death sentence. Her only hope was to try to make things difficult for her attacker. The man was far too large to fit under the table so he would have to try to heft it aside to get at her. He was a large man, but it was a massive table with iron struts and it seemed to have been bolted straight into the rock. If it were as immovable as she fervently hoped it was then there was no way he could get her out in a hurry. But she did not have forever. Where was Alan?! She used her thumbs to rip the tape away from her mouth and screamed, hoping against hope that Alan could hear it and had not abandoned her. This disobedience seemed to send her assailant into a towering rage. He tried to pull the table away. It shifted no more than a few millimetres before his grip slipped and with a yawp of exasperation he gave up trying to move it. Elise didn't dare to believe it. Her plan had worked! He couldn't get her out! But the man walked across the room and selected a sledgehammer from the workbench. He stalked back towards her with murder in his eyes, the heft of the sledge dragging along the cellar floor ominously. Surely not. Surely he can't- The man drew it back and with an almighty heave he swung it down with the primal force of a goliath. With an almighty crash the cedar buckled and nearly split in two right down the middle. The noise was deafening. The man's strength seemed superhuman. And then he drew it back for a second swing. The poor girl saw her life flashing before her eyes. She couldn't believe that she was going to go out this way. How could anyone have that kind of strength? Where was Alan? She was going to be pulverised! Through her shock she felt her bowels begin to move. At first it started slowly, her poop solid and coming out into her lace-cotton panties at a steady pace, forming a tennis-ball sized bulge in her tights. Then all of a sudden it seemed to rush out all at once. She had completely lost control and was filling her panties with mushy poop loudly and uncontrollably. Nearly three days' worth of soft crap filled out the seat of her underwear and tights making a very large bulge under her bottom and filling the small space with the unpleasant smell of her accident. I'm messing myself, Elise thought to herself through the shellshock. I'm about to die and when they find me they'll know that I filled my pants like a toddler. And with that, the sledge reached its apex, and out of futile despairing instinct she ducked her head. The world went dark. Elise blinked against the near total blackness, willing her eyes to work. For an eerie, fleeting moment she wondered if she was dead. But the clatter of the sledgehammer's heft impacting the stone floor dispelled that vision, and she heard her assailant's furious, fearful shout as he span around. 'Who was that?! Show yourself, you coward! Do you- Two shots rang out in rapid succession. Elise heard the man slump to the floor. Gloomy strands of light were filtering down the stairs now, and she could make out a silhouette standing over the threshold, a pistol outstretched in one arm. Self-awareness returned and Elise came crashing back to earth. Her lungs had frozen in her chest the moment her attacker's sledge reached the zenith of its vicious killing blow. But now she breathed. Her eyes glazed over as she took in desperate, shuddering gasps of air. As the figure advanced into the room, Elise's hyperventilation began to slow. Eventually it receded to the point where she leaned on a table leg and began to sob loudly. But through the ghastly shock she felt her resolve to return to her. She grunted determinedly, forcing herself to bring her breathing back under control. When she looked to her rescuer again its shadowy form stood over the felled giant. Something was being inspected. Still weeping quietly, Elise watched as the spectre toyed with something small. Then it turned to the table and bent down to peer at her. Through the obscurity, she finally saw the creature's face. A mask. A blank, white mask. The eyeholes were two pits of shadow in the half-light, but from within those wells of black she could feel a penetrating gaze staring right through her. Ghoulish though it was, after all that had happened it did not frighten Elise. Just a mask, a man in a mask, she thought to herself. Is it Alan? The figure silently reached into a pocket and withdrew a knife. It tossed it next to her meaningfully. Then turning on its heel, the figure glided back up the stairs and exited the cellar without a second glance. Elise sat stunned for a moment before she came to her senses. 'H-Hey!' she yelled after the figure. 'Wait!' With trembling hands, she grabbed the knife and sawed away at her restraints, accidentally nicking her ankle in her haste to get free. Alan had not bound her wrists tightly so with some care she was able to cut those bonds as well. But it took time. She clambered out from her hiding space, wincing as she felt the mound of poop in her underwear and tights squishing up against her rear. But she couldn't worry about that now. She had to get out of here. Shaking as she stepped around the outline of her attacker's motionless body, Elise climbed the stairs and exited the cellar to find a house seemingly untouched by the commotion she had heard. Or so she thought until she saw two bodies slumped in the lounge room adjacent to the entrance hall. With a shock, she recognised the navy-clad figure closest to the door. A bloodied knife lay on the ground below Alan's outstretched hand. True to his word, he had tried to protect her. She approached and noted with surprise that he was unbloodied. The other man was bleeding out all over the floor and appeared to have been run through with the knife. Alan, on the other hand, seemed to have been struck from behind. He's still breathing! Suddenly the reality of the situation hit Elise like the sledgehammer she had only just barely evaded. Her captors were incapacitated or dead. The masked man was gone. She was free of her bonds. Nobody could stop her leaving. She was free. Outside, the rain intensified from a drizzle to a downpour. Through the sheets of water cascading over the gutters to the concrete paving outside she could see a silver car parked in the driveway. And beyond lay freedom in the cold, dark night. With escape a fait accompli few others would have hesitated. And yet here stood Elise with her head to one side, sucking on her lower lip with calculation stamped across her soft features. It struck Elise that Alan was not very tall. It was a strange thought to have, but he couldn't have been more than two inches taller than she, and he looked even smaller still lying knocked out cold on the floor. To Elise's faint surprise she felt sorry for him. He was in with these crooks, she knew. But he wasn't like them, was he? He'd tried to protect her. As she stood there wrestling with her indecision, Alan stirred a little, groaning, and reached out for his knife before slumping back to the floor. And just like that, she made up her mind. She was going to get even. Grabbing a set of keys she saw lying on the coffee table in front of the sofa, Elise shook Alan to wake him. He stirred once more, but seemed very groggy. 'Come on, let's get out of here,' Elise said firmly. Alan was too out of it to resist as she led him out the door to the driveway and into the night. Chapter 3: En Route Rivulets cascaded over the gutters in thin refractive columns as Elise and Alan lurched out the doorway under the security light towards the stationary sedan. The water drenched Elise's white blouse in mere moments and sent little columns of ice streaming down the small of her back and into the waistband of her skirt. Staggering down the driveway, the pair halted next to the vehicle as the deluge took hold of them and drenched them to their bones. Keys. Elise's fingers shook as she fumbled with the keys. Finding a fob, she unlocked the car and wrenched open the passenger side door. With Alan grumbling and moving erratically, Elise managed to womanhandle him into his seat and tossed his legs in after him. Slamming the door shut, she trotted around to the car's right-hand side and, rushing to get out of the icy shower, she plonked herself roughly down into the driver's seat. Squish. The mess that she had forgotten about in a few blessed moments of adrenaline now oozed through the legholes of her hopelessly browned bikini underpants into her black nylon tights and smeared her upper thighs. Some had been forced up to the elastic at the back, left and right across the cheeks of her buttocks, and worryingly close to other unmentionable vectors. If Elise's facial expression in that moment could have been committed to canvas by a painter it would have been a prizewinning masterpiece. In spite of herself, Elise half-giggled through her shock. The old joke was right, it really did feel like she was sitting in a shepherd's pie, she thought to herself with amusement. One embarrassing classroom wetting aside, Elise had never had many accidents. In the heat of the moment when she had been facing oblivion earlier, her messing had seemed almost mundane like it was just another slide in the horror show that she'd only narrowly escaped. But now she could almost laugh about it… She shifted a little and felt the mess squelch below her like a water cushion. It must have been the adrenaline, but she felt exhilarated; like she'd gotten away with something incredibly naughty. But as the smell started to fill the car she realised she would not be able to hide what she'd done from Alan. She finally glanced at Alan only to see that he was awake and watching her, eyes open and mouth slightly ajar. 'Oh! It's… I…' was all a flustered and slightly humiliated Elise could manage before Alan interrupted. 'Home. Override!' Alan enunciated, more loudly and firmly than Elise would have thought he could have managed in his condition. But her surprise at his apparent recovery was nothing compared to her shock as the vehicle responded to its master's command. The car locked its doors. The vehicle started itself up in defiance of the keys Elise still clutched in her right hand. Then it began reversing down the driveway as Elise grappled with the steering wheel in futile confusion. Then she heard a female voice. 'Voice activation engaged. Welcome back, Master Sanders. Navigating to Home - Inner Rothsay.' Panicking a little at the realisation she'd been trapped again, Elise floundered with the controls in desperation. The steering wheel did nothing. The pedals did nothing. The gearstick felt like it had been fixed in cement. As the car pulled out onto the street, she rounded on Alan angrily. 'What did you do?! What are you doing?! Where are we going?! Why-…' she cried before Alan interrupted. 'We're getting to safety. The only place I know for sure we'll be safe.' 'Home? Your home? Stop! Let me out!' 'I can't. We're not safe. You're not safe. Those fuc-…' remembering his manners, Alan cut off the expletive. 'I mean, those… gentlemen apparently did some… silly things that have made things worse. A lot worse. You can't go home now, they would come back for you.' 'But they're dead!' Alan eyed her calculatingly. 'Both of them?' he asked, eyebrow arched. 'Yes!' 'Well, then, clearly I've underestimated you, Miss,' Alan said, impressed. 'How'd you do it?' 'Do what? I-… Wait, no, I-I didn't! Somebody else was there!' 'Somebody else?' Alan furrowed his brow. 'Yes! I-' 'Who?' Alan interrupted. 'W-well,' Elise stammered, 'I, I, I'm not sure. They never spoke, or at least I don't think they did.' '"You don't think they did"?' Alan repeated at her impatiently, 'Well, did they or didn't they?' 'Look,' Elise snarled angrily, 'that maniac you let come downstairs nearly smashed me apart with a sledgehammer! I was a bit too focused on that to be worrying about other things like who said what and when!' 'Wait - Anders attacked you? With a sledgehammer?!' Alan exclaimed in astonishment. 'But they were planning to-…' 'IT HAPPENED!' Elise thundered indignantly. 'I was under the table and he tried to kill me!' 'Okay, okay, I understand, I do apologise for my rudeness,' said Alan contritely, raising his hands in apology. 'This other person, he killed Anders and set you free?' 'Uh… Yes…' Elise confirmed uncertainly. 'Just as the huge guy was going to strike, this other guy came down and fired a pistol. And then he threw a knife to me.' 'He saw you, then? Did you get a good look at him?' Alan inquired curiously. 'Why does it matter?' 'It could be very important. Please.' Elise bowed her head into her hands and rubbed her temples. 'I don't know,' she said quietly. 'I didn't get that good a look. He had a white mask on.' 'Ah,' Alan uttered stonily, and with this disclosure he fell silent and diverted his gaze to stare out the window. Elise gaped at him for a moment. It seemed like this new revelation was troubling him and she could sense that Alan knew more than he was letting on. 'I don't suppose you saw where this person went?' Alan enquired eventually. 'No.' The car turned off the road they had been on to a wider dual-carriageway road. Here streetlights intermittently illuminated the interior of the car as Elise chewed her lower lip and stared at Alan with a mixture of frustration and apprehension. As ever, Alan's poker face was unreadable, but she thought she could detect worry and possibly even fear. But she had worries of her own. 'Am I still your hostage?' Elise asked with some trepidation. 'Hmmm?' Alan appeared to stir from his reverie. 'You said I can't leave,' Elise reminded him bitterly. 'You're taking me somewhere else against my will. What are you going to do with me?' 'Well… No. You're not,' Alan sighed. 'As I said, we're going to the only place I know for sure we'll be safe. Then we can decide what to do.' 'But they're dead!' Elise exclaimed. 'I told you!' 'Makes no difference, I'm afraid,' Alan continued glumly. 'Those two clowns were going to try to ransom you off to somebody on the premise that you had something valuable that they're looking for. And they'd already given your name.' Elise frowned in bewilderment. 'Who were they going to ransom me to?' she asked confusedly. 'I don't know exactly. All I know is that it's someone well-connected with a lot of… well, certain kinds of people that you don't want to meet.' Alan fixed her with a grim stare. 'The kinds of people who own pig farms and chemical storage warehouses.' 'Well, what do they want from me?' 'I don't know that either. Information is my best guess,' Alan idly speculated. 'Documents, maybe?' Seeing the expression of protest on Elise's face Alan quickly added 'I know you don't have anything like that. Like I said earlier, it's an asinine case of mistaken identity. But that's what they're looking for. I think.' 'And it's worth kidnapping somebody over, is it?' Elise demanded as she glared at Alan. 'Honestly, I don't know what it's worth,' Alan responded impassively. 'What I do know is that if you had been carrying documents or whatever it is that those guys are after and they knew you had it, you would've thanked your lucky stars that the idiots back at the house who grabbed you first worked for me.' Silence reigned in the car for a moment as Elise took this in. 'So where do you fit in all of this, then?' 'Pardon?' 'Well, they want documents, or information, or whatever,' Elise observed. 'But in the end it wasn't them who kidnapped me. It was your men. So you're after something as well!' 'Maybe I just want money?' Alan suggested. 'Then you could have just gone through with the ransom to the other group!' Elise pointed out. Alan looked scandalised. 'I would never agree to that!' he snapped. 'What kind of a man do you think I am?' 'Oh, so you're not that sort of kidnapper, then?' Elise laughed. 'And you said you were going to let me go. I've never heard of a kidnapper giving up a ransom just because they didn't get the exact rich white girl that they set out to get!' In spite of himself, Alan smirked - seemingly with approval, but he said nothing. 'I think,' Elise continued slowly, 'I think you know exactly what it is that they're after. I think you want it too.' Elise held Alan's stony stare for a few seconds. Alan sighed. 'Look, I really am truly sorry about what's happened to you,' Alan stated with his head downcast, looking at his hands, 'Everything seems to be happening so fast. I'm ashamed to say this whole affair's been out of my control since the start.' He looked up at her. 'I didn't know that that oaf would try to kill you back there,' Alan continued, this time looking her square in the eye, 'I would never have permitted him to go down to bring you upstairs if I thought something like that might have happened. I'd have sooner shot him where he stood. Maybe I should have. But I promise you that I will not put you in harm's way like that again.' 'You could just let me out of the car now,' Elise suggested hopefully. The car had pulled up for a red light at an intersection on the edge of the Syndicate's new territory. Other road traffic whizzed past in front of them. Alan clicked his tongue. 'I told you, others would come looking for you,' Alan reminded her. 'Just because you don't have what they want doesn't mean that they wouldn't bury you in a ditch somewhere. Possibly - but not necessarily - after putting a bullet in the back of your head' 'So what am I supposed to do, then?' Elise exclaimed in dismay. 'I'm still your hostage, but it's all for my protection?' 'You're my guest, not my hostage,' Alan insisted. 'There's a difference.' 'Oh? What difference?' Alan dipped his head in exhaustion. 'Please, Miss Wakefield, I'm just trying to protect you.'. 'Are you?' Elise demanded. 'I only have your word for it that anybody else might come for me. Come to that, how can I be sure that anything you've said is true? You're lying, aren't you?! You're making all of this up just so that I will follow along compliantly without questioning anything and let you throw me into another cellar!' Alan looked up at her with a glint in his eye. 'You need proof? Okay.' Alan lifted his voice and addressed the car's internal service unit. 'Jacey, display review camera 11-, uh, 117. Please.' The female voice Elise had heard when the car had started up replied: 'Review Camera 117 connecting... Please stand by.' A panel above the car radio lit up and was showing a loading screen. After a couple of seconds a picture appeared showing a high-resolution CCTV view of the cellar workshop in which Elise had been imprisoned. Elise gaped in surprise at the picture. She did not remember seeing a camera in the room. 'Okay,' she said slowly, 'but what's this supposed to prove?' 'Hmmm,' Alan muttered to himself, 'well, nothing yet… Jacey, 116, please. Actually, 115, please, 115.' The view on the screen flicked to the entry hall of the house very briefly before moving to a camera showing the driveway they'd departed not ten minutes before. 'Aha!' Alan cried triumphantly, 'what have we here?' It was hard to make out in the dark, but another car had just pulled into the driveway. Elise watched as three men disembarked the car. The men were heavily built and casually dressed in jeans and sweaters. Each of them seemed to be carrying a firearm. 'Track them, please, Jacey,' Alan instructed, 'and I'd like audio when they enter the house too.' They watched from the driveway camera as the men entered the house. The screen switched to the entry hall camera feed. Two of the men went straight over to the cellar's glass-pane door and wrenched it open before descending. The man who stayed behind peeked into the lounge room curiously checking out the mess from Alan's fight with the dead man. '117, please, Jacey. And audio!' Alan reiterated. The view shifted back to the cellar camera. The two men had reached the bottom and were standing over the corpse of Elise's tormentor. One of the men spun around and kicked a bucket across the room, cursing in frustration. The other man reached for his phone, dialled, and then lifted it to his ear. 'Nope, sorry. They're dead. She's gone.' Elise was stunned. She looked from the screen to Alan and back to the screen. Alan merely grimaced without taking his eyes off the screen and nodded dejectedly to himself. The two men turned and went back up the stairs and the camera switched back to the entry hall. The man who had stayed upstairs was leaning against a wall as his colleagues came out of the cellar. 'Well?' The man who had made the phone call gave a quick shake of the head and continued out the door without breaking his stride. Shrugging, the leaning man followed him out just as the bucket-kicking man ascended from the cellar himself. He, too, started to follow his friends out, but stopped in the middle of the room and suddenly looked right up at the camera causing Elise to jolt upright in her seat. 'You smartarse pr*ck. We're gonna find you.' And with that he raised his pistol and the camera feed cut to static before switching to the driveway camera. 'We'll see about that,' Alan countered smugly. He glanced back to Elise and was taken aback when he saw her face. This turn of events had clearly affected her in a big way. Silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she sat transfixed watching the display as the men loaded up into the car and set off again. 'Ah,' Alan said, suddenly discomfited, 'er, Jacey, cut the feed, please, thank you.' As the feed cut to black, Elise broke into a sob and buried her face in her hands. Unsure of himself, Alan awkwardly reached across to pat her on the shoulder. 'Don't worry, Miss Wakefield, they will never find you,' Alan reassured her, 'you'll be safe with us, it's okay, it's alright.' 'Easy for you to say!' Elise sobbed, 'it's me they're after! I can't go home! I can't go anywhere! What about my family, my partner, my job? Oh god, Tyson. Who's looking after Tyson?!' 'Tyson?' Alan asked carefully, 'Who is Tyson?' 'My dog!' Elise shrieked, 'My partner's away on business and he's been at home by himself for three days! Nobody to feed him or give him water. All because of you! Oh my god, Tyson, we've got to go get him!' 'Are you crazy?' Alan jerked back in alarm, 'There will be people watching your house! Neither of us can go there!' 'He's my dog!' Elise yelled back hysterically, 'You want him to die of exposure? Let me out!' Elise scrabbled at the door and Alan leapt across to restrain her. 'Stop it! Stop it! Okay, okay, for god's sake, we'll get your damn dog!' Alan promised exasperatedly, 'I guess that can be a job for Millie. Gee, I hope she's home when we get back.' Elise slumped back and sobbed quietly in her seat, but she was beginning to calm down a little. 'Who's Millie?' Elise asked, sniffling. 'Erm,' Alan hesitated, struggling to think of a description that would do Emiliana Madaffari justice. 'She's, er, a friend of a friend,' he finished lamely, 'She'd be about your age. Actually, a bit younger, I think. She can be a bit of a, er, a livewire. If she gets too intense, be sure to tell her. God knows I have to. ' Alan shook his head. 'Anyway, we're not far off from arriving now. Three minutes, give or take.' They sat there in silence for a moment. Eventually Elise broke it. 'I… I'm sorry I called you a liar,' she said with a shaking voice. 'Miss Wakefield, you have nothing to apologise for,' Alan assured her, 'In your position, I'm sure I would have been suspicious too.' 'Elise,' Elise interjected. 'What?' 'Just Elise, please. 'Miss Wakefield' is weird, it makes you sound like my landlord.' Elise said, still sniffling but with a small chuckle. Alan stared blankly for a second before snickering awkwardly. 'Very well, Elise. Anyway, we're nearly there. We'll have dinner, and you can shower. I'm sure Millie has some clothes she can lend you. She'd be about your size, I think. And by hook or by crook we will get your dog.' 'Thanks,' Elise managed a weak smile for a second before she broke down again, 'But this is so insane, I can't believe this is all happening. How am I going to get my life back? I… I'm scared. I don't want to say it, but I am, I'm scared!' Alan was at a loss for words. Truth be told, he had never had the most sensitive people skills, and this one was well beyond him. And what could he even say? The people hunting her were animals. She was right to be scared. 'There, there…' he soothed pathetically, 'We'll… We'll work something out. In the meantime, you'll be safe where we're going. That much is true.' Silence reigned in the car for another moment once again broken only by Elise's sniffling. 'Sorry about your car seat, Alan…' Elise murmured sheepishly. 'What? What on earth for?' Alan asked with a frown. Elise blinked at him with incredulity. The unfortunate odour of her accident was unmistakeable in the car, but Alan's baffled expression betrayed no sign that he'd noticed it. Either he was a fantastic actor and set on playing the gentleman or he was being intensely obtuse. Maybe that hit to the head had done more damage than they'd realised, Elise pondered. 'I, uh, well, uh,' Elise stammered in confusion, 'You remember I said that I hadn't been untied to… go to the bathroom since you, well… kidnapped me. Well-…' 'Oh, that,' Alan interrupted, waving a hand dismissively, 'please don't worry about it. The seat will dry. The important thing is that you're safe.' 'Yes, but I didn't just-…' 'The rain probably rinsed it all out anyway,' Alan blundered on obliviously, 'it's just a bit of… water at the end of the day, no harm done.' 'Oh? Er, alright, then?' Elise ventured in bewilderment, searching Alan's expression for any hint of discreet understanding and finding only earnest ignorance. The car turned onto a narrow cobbled road and began to slow. This was an older, more affluent area, quite far removed from the hustle and bustle of the busy city centre that Elise called home. She peeked out curiously into the darkness. Facing each other from opposite sides of the lane, a hedge and a two-metre high sandstone wall completely blocked her view of the homes on either side. Further ahead she glimpsed the silhouettes of behemoth gothic mansions lurking in the distance, shrouded in shadow. 'We're here,' Alan announced woodenly as the car slowed up alongside the hedge and proceeded through a brass and steel gate that had opened automatically. As the car's headlights flashed over a bronze plaque adorning the stonework bestride the gate, Elise just had time to make out the name: 'Halatine Hill'. What lay beyond caused Elise's jaw to drop. They had been admitted to what looked like an old-fashioned country estate. A very large oak tree occupied the heart of a lush, manicured lawn which rolled away before them down to a tall red-brick Victorian manor which awaited them at the end of a rhododendron-lined driveway. Light poured out of large picture windows on the ground floor into trapezoids splayed across the grass around the house. Partly illuminated at the foot of the manor's front steps was a rose garden with a fountain featuring a stone statue of Hermes, naked except for a cloak and brandishing his famous kerykeion. 'What is this place?' Elise asked breathlessly. 'Home.' Alan answered simply. Elise gaped at him. 'Well, I guess that does seem to rule out any money motivations,' Elise mused teasingly. Alan shot her a look. 'This is a friend's place, not mine. I just live here. For the time being, anyway.' 'A friend?' Elise asked, 'This Millie girl?' 'Millie? Hah! No,' Alan sneered, 'but she does act as if she owns the place so watch out. Millie's… Millie. You'll see.' Elise wasn't sure what to make of that comment. But she pressed on. 'So who is the lucky owner, then?' Alan sighed, 'A gentleman named Roman Laquiere. We're… good friends. And since you're interested, he's also the one who had the bright idea of plucking a certain woman off a certain street not all that long ago.' The car pulled up to the side of the manor and parked itself neatly next to a gravel path that meandered towards the front of the house. 'You have reached your destination,' Jacey announced, 'Good evening, Master Sanders, Mistress Wakefield.' 'Wait, you mean-…' 'Let's go,' Alan said firmly. As Elise disembarked the vehicle she experienced the confronting sensation of suction as she peeled her bottom away from the chair. The seat was obviously quite badly soiled, Elise noted guiltily. She certainly wouldn't be able to hide that. But Alan was already making his way down the gravel path. It passed through a white wooden arbour gate and continued alongside the house underneath a pergola laced with vines and lilacs up to the front steps. Alan pushed the arbour gate open and turned back to give Elise a quizzical look. The sight of Alan holding the gate open for her made Elise hesitate. Was she really doing this? Voluntarily following her own captor into his lair? She'd heard of hostages experiencing Stockholm Syndrome before, but this wasn't like that. She'd come this far because she'd had no choice, but it didn't seem like it was Alan who was keeping her prisoner anymore. Nevertheless Elise dithered, half-expecting Alan would come over and force her up the path to the house to put her in his power again. But he just stood waiting at the gate watching her sadly. 'Why are you doing this?' she demanded tearing up again, 'I'm no use to you. You could have left me to those gangsters back there, but you didn't. You brought me here. Why?' Alan shrugged. 'You're involved now because of me. I feel responsible. You deserve better.' Elise stood there absorbing his words, turning them over in her head, trying to find the lie contained within. 'Come on, Elise. Let's go inside?' Alan suggested meekly. Well, she was here now. What else was there to do? Still, she felt like a ghost as she swept past Alan up the path towards the house. Alea iacta est. Chapter 4: Livewire The heavy oaken front door featured an impressive engraving of a lion fighting a bear amidst a storm. The design looked somewhat Eastern. Out of place among the rest of the manor's conservative architecture, Elise thought to herself as she waited for Alan to open the door for her. Just as Alan came up the steps, however, a dog started barking from inside. 'Beanie!' scolded a female voice from inside the house somewhere, 'Just a minute, Al!' Elise heard some footsteps approaching the door and feeling a little nervous she stepped behind Alan. The door unlocked and was pulled back bathing Alan and Elise in light and permitting a young German Shepherd to leap out the door and start jumping up at Alan. 'Get off me, you stupid mutt!' Alan exclaimed in annoyance, pushing the dogs waving front paws away from his hips. A figure moved into the doorway silhouetted by the light behind. 'Sorry about Beanie, Al' the shadow said with a giggle. 'I was going to take him for a walk this afternoon, but I ended up bingeing on Netflix instead.' Elise's eyes finally adapted to the light and took in the figure at the door. The pyjama-clad girl standing over the threshold was breathtakingly pretty. She had light brown hair that hung in a braid to just below her shoulders and she was a little shorter than Elise, but with a very youthful face - young enough to be in her mid-teens. By contrast, her full figure suggested late-teens and her bronzed skin hinted that she didn't spend a lot of time in classrooms. Her mere presence had made Elise feel very self-conscious. The dog that had been pouncing up at Alan shifted its focus to Elise now, and to her embarrassment it started sniffing around her butt where much of her mess had coalesced back into a ball in the seat of her pants. The dog's attention drew the girl's gaze too. 'But who's this, Al? You've brought a new friend home for Beanie!' she said beaming. The girl stepped out from the door, twirling a dog leash in her hands with her eyes locked on the trapped Elise. 'Uh, yes,' Alan mumbled clumsily, 'Millie this is Elise. Elise, Millie.' 'Wowee, Al! I didn't know you had it in you!' Millie laughed causing Alan to go red, much to Elise's shock. 'How did you two meet?' Millie enquired innocently, 'Ooh, I bet it was somewhere romantic!' 'Uh,' Alan said with an awkward glance at Elise's stony-faced expression, 'not exactly. She's had a bit of a rough time, actually, Millie. I wonder if you could-…' Millie came over and hugged Elise in welcome. 'Hi, Elise, my name's Millie! It's a pleasure to-' Millie sniffed and wrinkled her nose, 'Ugh, what on earth is that smell?' 'I can't smell anything.' Alan remarked, 'But then again, I wouldn't, would I?' he added bitterly. 'I think somebody must have stepped in one of Beanie's presents… Or-…' Millie started. Suddenly she became very aware of Elise's tomato red cheeks and put two and two together. 'Oh! Oh my gosh.' Millie exclaimed in surprise, clasping her hands over her mouth, eyes wide. 'What?' said Alan looking from the ashen-faced Elise to Millie, bewildered. Millie rounded on Alan in a rage. 'She's not a friend of yours at all, is she?' Millie demanded accusingly. 'Who is she? What have you done to her?' 'Wha… I… But…' Alan blithered in confusion. 'You went through with that idiot scheme of Roman's, didn't you? Jesus Christ, Alan.' Millie snarled, 'What the hell were you thinking? You don't care what happens to people like her, do you? The ends justify the means, yeah?' 'I… I'm trying to help her!' Alan protested, 'It was all a stupid mistake. Anyway, she's here now, so she's safe.' '"Safe"?!' Millie raged, incensed, 'What about from you? You've traumatised her!' 'What do you mean?' She's alright, isn't she? What's wrong with her?' 'You're… You're going to make me say it?' Millie was flabbergasted. 'You pig!' 'M-Millie…' Elise finally managed in a very small voice. Millie turned to her and enveloped her in a tight embrace. 'It's okay, babe,' Millie said soothingly, glowering at Alan over Elise's shoulder, 'I don't hold it against you. I know it wasn't your fault.' 'Millie,' Alan growled through gritted teeth, 'You don't understand. It wasn't like that.' 'No?' Millie asked incredulously, 'You expect me to believe that?' 'It's… It's true, M-Millie…' Elise offered timidly. She pulled away from Millie. 'Alan… Alan helped me when I needed it the most,' she affirmed miserably, 'If it weren't for him I'd be d-dead.' Millie bit her lower lip, and her glittering golden eyes flicked piercingly between Alan and Elise. 'Well, okay, maybe I've misread things,' Millie acknowledged eventually, 'But still… Bringing her here like this…' Millie shook her head. 'If you ever humiliate somebody like this in front of me again, I'll cut you in half, Al.' 'Humiliate?' Alan threw up his hands in dismay, 'I don't know what you mean, I certainly didn't mean to do that.' 'Yes, but, obviously she's-…' Millie stopped herself when she saw pleading tears in Elise's expression. Wait. He doesn't know, does he? 'You know what? Forget I said anything, Al,' Millie said cheerfully, reverting back to her chipper innocence with frightening speed. 'You don't mind taking Beanie for a walk around the garden do you? Me and Leasey have girl things to talk about.' 'Wha- Wait, but-…' 'Thanks, sweetie,' Millie interrupted, pushing the dog leash into his hands and grabbing Elise by the arm. 'Come on, babe,' Millie whispered in Elise ear, 'Before he catches on.' Millie dragged Elise into the house, insolently shutting the door on a miffed Alan as he stood outside the door holding the leash limply while the excited puppy bounced around him in excitement. 'Sorry about that, Elise' Millie said regretfully, 'I thought Alan was being a bell-end, but he lost his sense of smell when he was a kid. I guess I assumed he'd noticed anyway…' Elise blinked at this revelation. 'Oh,' she said in surprise, 'That's awful. I can't imagine. Um,' Elise added with a blush. 'Is it… really obvious?' 'It's pretty hard to miss, babe,' Millie smiled at her empathetically. 'But accidents happen. Believe me, I know. It's our secret.' The lobby they had entered had several doors leading off to other parts of the house. Marble busts of men from different periods of history stared down imperiously from pedestals situated around the lobby. A wide sweeping marble staircase dominated the room and it was up these steps that Millie dragged Elise up to a dimly lit landing with thick burgundy carpet. 'You'd be a Size 8 like me, I reckon?' Millie enquired conversationally. 'Lucky you! Your boobs are a little bigger than mine, but I reckon we can find you some stuff to tide you over til tomorrow.' Elise was having a bit of a hard time keeping up. While Millie's warm friendliness was hugely comforting, her innate self-confidence and unabashed outspokenness were a little bit jarring. Millie led Elise off the landing and down a corridor. The room at the end turned out to be a very large bedroom - Millie's. The room was a total disaster zone: clothes, books, and papers flung all over the floor, a desk piled up with pictures of friends and parties, plates and glasses, and even a depleted toilet paper roll. Just inside the door a couple of beanbags sat in front of a large LED TV which displayed the pause menu of a game Millie had been playing on her Playstation. A King Size Bed piled with cushions sat unmade at the far side of the room adjacent to the window. Mirrors lined the wall on the other side of the room, each one concealing a cupboard behind it. One of them stood ajar and Elise could see a number of dresses and frocks on hangers inside. Millie strode over to one of the mirrors and slid it aside. 'Hmmm,' she pursed her lips as she appraised the contents of a shelf, 'You know what? I think these would look cute on you!' She produced a light grey pair of button-up pyjamas patterned with sheep and retrieved a matching pair of slippers from underneath. Elise couldn't help but notice the pyjamas looked a little low cut for her tastes, but she took them gratefully. 'The ensuite's down there,' Millie said, indicating a half-open sliding door down next to her bed, 'You take as much time in there as you want. I'll go grab some stuff from the kitchen and then we can veg on the beanbags. Well, go on!' Millie gave Elise a playful spank on the butt. 'Uh, what about my clothes?' Elise pointed out. 'Oh, just dump them in the laundry basket in the ensuite. I've got to do a load, I'll take it down later,' Millie said casually. Seeing Elise's expression, she continued 'Babe, it doesn't bother me. Really. Every girl has the occasional accident. For some of us it's a bit more than occasional, too.' She added with a laugh. The stunned expression on Elise's face prompted a few more giggles from Millie. 'Feel free to use my shampoo and stuff in there. But if you touch my straightener, you're dead meat. Kinda joking, but not really. Anyway! I'll be watching my show over there if you need me!' And with that, Millie waltzed across the room and planted herself on one of the bean bags before picking up her controller and switching over to Netflix. Elise just stood there overwhelmed. Millie tended to have that effect on people. Elise must have been five years older than Millie, but she felt a kinship with the younger girl as if she'd known her for years. And she found herself thinking that Millie was more than a little attractive. Eventually she waddled into the ensuite for her long awaited shower. As her skirt fell to the tiled floor, she twisted to look over her shoulder in the mirror at the load in her tights. Even after all she'd been through, it looked about the size of a grapefruit. No wonder Millie had noticed it instantly. In a way it felt strange as she rolled down her tights and threw them to one side. She'd gotten used to the feeling of the load in her underwear, and although humiliating, the experience had provided her with one of the most intriguing sensations of her life. She half-wondered if she might do it again privately one day, but with a pang of self-flagellating shame she shook her head to clear the impure thought. She tipped out the load into the toilet and was relieved to see that it all came out stuck together, leaving nothing behind on her lacey panties except an embarrassing brown stain in the seat. She hoped that would come out in the wash. As she jumped into the shower, she reflected on the crazy few days that had been. Quite quickly she realised how exhausted she was. She finished her shower and donned her pyjamas which turned out to be very revealing around her cleavage. But she was too tired to care. She staggered out of the room and flopped down onto Millie's bed, and she was asleep in mere seconds. To be continued...
  25. Nephron

    [Female] GGTB-21

    View File GGTB-21 Here I am with my last superheroine video for now ? I am deeply sorry that this one isn't a supercut. This JAV had so much content in it that I never got around to making one. But rest assured, this video is filled with multiple wettings in various scenarios, in both schoolgirl and superheroine costumes. Cheers and await more incoming superheroines in peril in the future! ? [My next mega compilation is almost halfway done as of this post] Submitter Nephron Submitted 01/03/2019 Category Female videos Clothing