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Found 16 results

  1. Some characters I want to write omo for but don't know how to go about/ lack motivation for rn: Open to suggestions/ideas! Jojo's: Kakyoin (Probably a situational accident) Akira (Maybe forced accident or accident due to his own stupidity) Daniel D'Arby (accident due to his stupid pride) Avdol (Anything cute. Avdol is adorable) Josuke (Whiney bitch) Okuyasu (Whiney-er bitch) Mista (I must fluster sweet little Mista. with his buddy Trishhhh) Ghiaccio (I want him to cry. Public humiliation) Prosciutto (Break down a strong man) Part 4 Jotaro (Stoic man? Make him piss himself, obviously) Secco (Bondage wetting, of course) Doppio (baby) Tiziano and Squalo (Couple piss<3) Gyro and Johnny (Desperate buddies <3) KARS Ace Attorney: Edgeworth, obviously Gumshoe? Phoenix, of course Klavier Meekins Jake Marshal Danganronpa: Mondo Kiyotaka Gundham TF2: Sniper. nuff said Thats it, lol Marvel: Dr. Strange because fuck you Loki because Loki -and I also because I love watching powerful people suffer and endure shame Side note: I may be able to do full-on requests some time(s) this year. Free stories? O-O...
  2. This has way more sexual frustration/desperation than I originally intended lol. This is a very horny fic. "Yes, Yoshikage...I want you to indulge yourself to the fullest. I want you to enjoy this. I wish to show you experiences that you would have never guessed you would derive pleasure from." The words flowed from Diavolos lips like a soothing stream, peaking the blonde's curiosity. "You intend to arouse me? A man?" he scoffed and smiled, "I've never once in my life been aroused by a male, nevermind by any of his unusual fetishes, " he threw himself onto his bed, "You interest me. I'm not sure what motive you carry, but my curiosity gets the better of me. Let's see what you've got for me." Kira locked eyes on the man's hands as they began undoing his shirt, teasing the skin underneath, "May I ask a question?" "It depends..." "How do you know so much about me?" "Yoshikage...you reek of arousal. How could I not follow such an enticing scent? I am alone in this world, Yoshikage. I have not a single companion. I will fail to obtain pleasure if I don't seek it out." "Ah..." Kira's face flushes, feelings of vulnerability washing over him "Is it...Is it really so obvious?" "No, no...Not to the average passerby. Now, ease your fretful mind," Diavolo ran his palm along the side of Kira's face, "I took great care of my hands for you, Yoshikage '' they would delight to feel the caress of your tongue. Now clean my paws, you dirty cat~" He heard Kira's breath hitch nervously. The man below him hesitated, then parted his lips ever so slightly. "You...somehow, your hands, " his voice trembled, eyes half closed, "They're so...p-perfect, " he shuddered and grasped Diavolos hand before lapping at it with unorthodox lust. It wasn't long before he had the fingers crammed into his mouth to the knuckles, drool trailing down his chin. "Dirty, cat...Slurping and moaning with no shame? Just a moment ago, you were doubting that a man could possess the ability to arouse you. If only you could see yourself now...Is there ever a moment that you aren't a horny little bastard? Diavolo laughed," In fact...You're always looking to get yourself off, aren't you? You've based your whole lifestyle around it. Every single kill...every life you've taken...it was for that needy little prick of yours'' he spat those last words harshly, "how endearing~" “Fuck off.” Kira panted, freeing himself from his pants and boxers. Diavolo grabbed him by the wrists and pinned him, “Ugh…you…What is this? What are you doing to me?” fear clouded his eyes. “Relax. I just don’t want you touching it yet. Don’t make me tie you up, now.” “Your name…I never got your name…” Kira gulped. Pink hair formed a curtain around his face as hot breath drew closer. “Call me Boss,” his chin was grasped, and before he knew it, he was kissing the man he’d just met. Suddenly, a pressure made itself known just above his beltline. Diavolos hand was resting over his bladder. It was only now that he realized his need for a restroom. His lips still locked to the other, he groaned and thrashed his head. The man on top of him pulled back, “What is it now, little kitty?” “I could kill you at any moment, you know…” He glared. “Yet you haven’t done so…I wonder why that is~” “Grrr…Forget it! You know what you’re doing. Cut it out.” Kira grit his teeth, glaring at Diavolo. “Why now? We’re just getting started. I’ve been wanting to show you this for a long time, Yoshikage…Don’t tell me you’ve changed your mind…” “You want…Y-you want to toy with my bladder? Is that really what gets you going?” a spike of pressure vanquished Kiras glare, replacing it with a whiney moan. He bit his lip and turned his head, flustered. Why did it feel so good when his bladder was tortured like that? “Why not? It seems like you’re enjoying it!” Diavolo pushed Kiras bladder and kept the pressure held down, making the blonde squirm and moan dramatically. “Please, let me use my hands, B-boss! My body c-can’t do it alone!” Kira gripped the sheets. “Wow~ how obedient! I didn’t even have to ask you to beg! Go ahead kitty~” Diavolo grinned. Kira gripped his cock with haste, squeezing to block the flow. Diavolos' hand only pressed harder, eliciting a yelp from him. Kira began to tremble, tears pooling in his eyes. “Boss…P-please have mercy…it feels so good, but it’s starting to hurt. I really really need to go…” his voice wavered heavily as he was on the brink of losing control, his body quaking with effort to hold it alone. “Look at you…so delicate…so afraid…You don’t even know if you’ll be able to hold it anymore with each passing moment. With every new second, you half expect to burst. Am I correct?” “Urk- Y-yes Boss!” Kira strained, then gasped as the pressure eased. He took a moment to catch his breath, no longer hurting quite as much. Diavolos' hand had lifted from his sensitive bladder bulge. He could no longer resist the urge to pump his throbbing manhood and he did just so with feverishness, not afraid to moan. He was utterly lost in pleasure. Diavolo sloppily kissed Kira's head, prodding at the pisshole with his tongue. Kira suddenly let out a particularly pitchy moan before Diavolo felt his mouth filling with liquid. He nearly choked trying to swallow it all. When Kira was finally emptied and his breathing had steadied, Diavolo kissed him once more, transferring the taste. “See…I did all of this for you. Now you owe me, Yoshikage…Please…I beg of you,” Diavolos' demeanor changed completely. He clung to Kira's face with pleading eyes, “I…I haven’t had a proper orgasm in ages, Yoshikage, “His voice shook as if he were about to cry, “I can’t take it anymore…Please…help me…” “Hmph…and you teased me for being horny?” Kira could only smile.
  3. "C-Cioccolata?" Secco whispered, rolling over in the cage and pressing his spine against it. He got no response at first, running his fingers along the bars as he listened to anything he could pick up in the darkness. He was just about to speak once more when he heard the echoes of Cioccolatas dress shoes stepping along the concrete of the basement floor. His heart leapt with excitement as his master approached. "Yes, Secco?" Ciocolata drew the words out. Secco heard shuffling as his master knelt down beside him, letting out a hot breath against the back of his neck. He shuddered. With accuracy like that, Secco concluded that he must have been wearing his night vision goggles. Secco had almost forgot the reason he'd spoken up at all. "It's full..." He announced the change in the state of his bladder at Cioccolatas request, "I like it..." he let out a hot breath of his own, beginning to tease himself through Oasis. The sounds of Cioccolata freeing himself from his pants filled the room, soon to be replaced with his contented sighing. Secco groaned, "Can I?" tugging at his hard-on. "Beg, puppy." Cioccolata growled, "and don't forget to call me your doctor." "Grrh..." Secco whimpered and huffed, "Please...Please, can I get myself off, Doctor?" "Oh, good boy~" Cioccolata moaned, "Yes, Secco. Do it." Secco could hear his masters voice breaking. The two panted in the dark, stroking themselves. Lost in the moment. Secco could feel the pressure building inside him, his bladder now bulging out beneath his belly. Waves of need and pleasure pulsed through him as he strained to maintain his hold through the growing need to build up to an orgasm. It wouldn't be long until his body became confused and couldn't decide what to let out first. Secco moaned in desperation, his organs throbbing. "I can't! I can't hold on much longer!" Secco cried out, pumping himself feverishly. "No! S-Secco...Pinch yourself shut and try to hold it for me..." Cioccolata panted. Secco squeezed himself at the tip, still stroking. His eyes burned with the urge to cry as he let out desperate yelps. The pressure of the fluid trying to force itself out was starting to become strong. The liquid fought hard against his pinched urethra, having nowhere to go after his bladder had taken in more than its max capacity, stretching to accommodate. Secco squirmed and whimpered restlessly until, finally, his body gave in. Secco yelled out in bliss, both cum and urine bursting from his tip with impressive force. He shook and gripped the cage bars as it happened, sweat and tears pouring from his face. The relief was indescribable. "Fuck, Secco~" Cioccolata reached his own orgasm at the sight, biting his lip as he watched the bulge under Seccos belly gradually shrink. The two of them panted for a while before lying on the ground in their own filth and falling asleep.
  4. "Oh dear..." Kira muttered to himself. He was eyeing the restroom, which had a long line of people, some of which being his colleagues, as the employee restroom was out of order. Kira had been holding his three mugs of coffee for a little over an hour now, and, being who he was, he absolutely refused to use the restroom unless it was completely empty, and so, he continued his work. A while later Kira felt his bladder grow heavier as his need began taking control. Shifting his weight, he tried to think of anything besides how full he was, but this proved to be difficult as his bladder protested the wait. Kira gritted his teeth and subtly pressed his legs together, resting his hands over his thighs. He looked toward the line and cringed. He would have to wait longer. flustered, Kira ducked into an isle away from cameras and customers and squeezed his groin, whimpering softly as the pressure grew sharp and more persistent. "Mr. Kira, are you alright?" a kind voice from behind him caused him to freeze. He gulped and removed his hands from between his legs, his bladder aching and swelling as he strained himself to keep control. He turned to face a familiar coworker and squeaked out a pathetic response. "I'm f-fine." Kira began to tremble, his bladder on the verge of leaking. "Are you sure...because, well..." His coworker sheepishly rubbed at the back of his neck, "You kind of looked like you-uh...really needed a restroom. "I'm sorry-" the words shot from Kira's mouth as he registered the embarrassment of the situation, his face growing hot and tears pooling in his eyes. Feeling he was close to loosing it, he returned his hands between his thighs to hold, avoiding eye contact with his coworker, who looked at him sympathetically, before putting an arm around him and guiding him to the employee restrooms, despite them being out of order. Kira was ever so close to bursting, urine beginning to spurt into his boxers every now and then. He felt as if his bladder would pop if he held on much longer, that is, if his muscles didn't give out to exhaustion. He communicated this to his coworker with a strained, pleading groan and three shuddering words, "It really hurts!" The two picked up the pace. "We're almost there, can you hold it just a little longer?" his coworker asked as they made their way through the restroom door. Kira felt twinges of pain in his kidneys. "Oohh g-god, no! I c-c-can't!" Kira yelped, the sight of impending relief causing his bladder to lurch and throb. He gritted his teeth and whimpered pathetically, than froze as he felt a pair of hands undoing his pants, and soon enough, fingers pinching his tip tightly as it dribbled. His coworker was holding his manhood to aid him! Kira's face flushed. "I uh...I can stop if this is uncomfortable..." His coworker gulped, seeming to be shaken up by his own actions. "Shit, I don't care! J-just...The urinal, please...Please, please take me there...It hurts so bad!" Tears trailed down Kira's cheeks, and without another word, he found himself being positioned in front of the urinal before finally letting go, the liquid urgently hitting the porcelain and splattering back his way. He failed to bite back a moan as the sensations of relief filled his body. His coworker, who had turned away, washed his hands in silence, wondering why this was arousing him. This wouldn't last long however, as Kira's nails began to grow unbearably long and the urge to kill was not an easy thing to suppress.
  5. Sorry about any canon inconsistencies. I was too tired to look into them when I wrote this. Toyohiro was beyond stressed. a crowd of curious people had formed around his tower as if he was some sort of freak or art exhibit. Normally. he wouldn't care too much and just ignore them, but he was having one of those days. He was highly irritable and just wanted to be left alone. Eventually, the crowd struck a nerve with him and he told them to leave. although a bit rudely, telling them to, "fuck off," because he was tired and wanted to rest. Nobody listened to him. some even laughed. Enraged, he tried to scare the people off by yelling and throwing things at them, but it only seemed to amuse them further. The frustrating part was that, unlike stand users, he couldn't;'t attack them. Eventually, he gave up and decided to fake sleep, hoping they'd go away. Time passed and people had come and gone, but still a crowd. Not Toyohiro was nervous. He hated to admit it to himself, but he really had to pee, and with all these people around, including children, if he were to just whip it out and go, he could get into some serious trouble, nevermind the though of someone seeing or possibly even photographing his dick. He shook his head at the thought and continued to silently pray that they would leave. Oddly enough, all the eyes on him made his bladder ache with need. The fact that he was unable to relieve himself was only making his need more powerful. Toyohiro growled to himself as the weight in his abdomen increased. He was filling. his tiny muscles fought against the liquid pressure as the urine urged itself to be let out. He sat still, unable to to anything else but grip the tower and tremble. Eventually, his bladder was swollen, and the fullness was visible through his clothing. Toyohiro groaned and crossed his legs. It was getting hard to hold and it was beginning to hurt. People had begun to take pictures. He would never live it down if a photo of him urinating all over himself started circling around. He felt tears welling up in his eyes and he bit his lip to keep them held back. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? He was grateful that they couldn't hear his whimpers and sniffles. Desperation catching up to him, he threw his hands between his legs to help hold it in, shame burning his face. The crowd was starting to catch on to his need now, with some people feeling bad and leaving while others began recording or mocking him. Ugh. This was why he hated people so much. Toyohiro shouted curses at them and felt himself starting to cry. He couldn't help it. This really sucked. It seemed like there was only one way out, and it was even worse than things already were. He gulped and pulled his knees up to his chest, burrying his face in them. This was it. He wasn't able to hold it much longer. Toyohiro began to shake violently, pain stinging his abdomen. His bladder was huge and strained inside him, the muscles holding the weight of the fluid ready to give out. Squeezing his eyes shut, he braced himself for the inevitable, and sure enough, after a desperate yelp, piss burst from him with an urgent force he was unable to stop. He could feel his bladder shrinking and let out quiet moans of relief. Letting it out felt so good. His clothes soaked and urine began raining down on the crowd, which had errupted wit chatter and other commotion that Toyohiro was too distressed to distinguish. He began sobbing into his knees. Suddenly, the crowd dispersed, people leaving the site, and looking up, Toyohiro noticed a police officer shooing them away form the area. As relieving as this was, he was scared as well. Was he going to be in trouble? Once the crowd was gone, he saw something weird happen. The officers body began to change. That's when it hit him. This was the alien he'd met a while back. Mikitaka. The pale figure approached cautiously. Toyohiro ducked his face back into his knees. "It is alright...It was nothin you could help. you did no wrong." the alien spoke softly, "Please do not feel ashamed," "I..." Toyohiro sniffled. When he felt a hand rest on his shoulder, he lost it. He broke down in humiliated sobs and latched onto them, burrying his face in their chest. Mikitaka just help him and let him cry as much as he needed.
  6. I am so sorry in advance to those who read...whatever this is 10 hours. 10 damned hours since Kira last relieved his bladder. Why was this happening to him?? All he wanted was to go home, but for some reason, somehow, he kept getting into impossible situations today... He first realized he’d had to go about 6 hours ago. He’d been walking along the street from his job and decided to stop by a café to have a quick snack and let it out, only to find that the restrooms were out of order. Although slightly embarrassed, Kira thought it no big deal and played it off. He decided, then, to just walk home and use the restroom there. Unfortunately, about a third of the way there and an hour later, Kira found the sidewalk on the way to his house was undergoing construction, and he wouldn’t be able to walk that way. Not wanting to draw too much attention by walking on the grass around the site, he decided to take a detour. By then, Kira's need was beginning to become more present, and he was feeling irritated at his failure to have already relieved himself. He increased his walking pace, wanting to get home as soon as possible. Kira very much disliked the feeling of a full bladder. The pressure underneath his stomach was just so uncomfortable to him, nevermind the light arousal that came after being full for longer than usual. It made it so hard to look normal, and Kira hated negative attention…It was so embarrassing. Wetting himself with a hard-on in public would have to be one of the worst things Kira could imagine happening to him. Unluckily for him, It was the detour that proved to be what crossed this line of arousal for Kira's body. About half an hour into his alternative route, Kira was stopped once more. This time, a crime scene with an ongoing investigation. “No way this can be happening!” Kira thought to himself, astonished at the poor timing. Kira wanted nothing to do with the police, and so, having no way else home, turned back in search of public facilities, however, once back where he started near the road construction on his original path home, Kira felt the pressure in his body hit a certain sweet spot, sending pleasure through his body. He gulped, “No…I can’t let this happen to me…I must hurry to a restroom before it becomes noticeable…” Kira thought, now facing the threat of both public erection and pants wetting. He began nearly jogging by shops, pleading with the world that one would have a publicly available place to go. He could no longer go to places that required a purchase, as he’d used up the last of his pocket cash on the café meal. Kira was becoming distressed. Another hour passed with no luck, and both ways home were still off-limits. Kira was flushed and visibly uncomfortable as arousal clouded his mind. Why? Why did it feel so good? Kira wanted to disappear. His desperation now visible, he felt as though he’d already lost. He had to wear his jacket around his waist to hide his erection and felt miserable. It had really been 9 hours... Kira couldn’t remember that last time he’d gone this long without urinating. It was starting to hurt and it was getting hard to hold back. He had to focus on straining his body to hold back the flood within. Kira felt himself sweating from the sheer effort it took to clench the tiny muscles shut. His body wanted so badly to give in to the sheer amount of urine sitting inside him. He was beyond full. He spent the next hour pacing desperately, silently praying for a solution to his urgent problem. Now…10 hours. 10 damned hours since Kira last relieved his bladder. It was leaking now! I was leaking so bad that his boxers were becoming damp. Kira wanted to cry. He knew he wouldn’t be able to last much longer than this. He needed to think fast. Subtly pee-dancing, Kira used all his self-restraint not to grab himself, instead, balling his fists against his thighs as he nearly doubled over. It was painfully obvious now that the man needed to urinate despite his self control. Kira saw no other way out of this. He had to approach someone's house; something that he, under normal circumstances, wouldn’t think twice about doing. He knocked on the door of a random resident with great urgency, squirming in place, wishing with every fiber of his being that he could just vanish. This was the most embarrassing thing he’d ever done! A kind looking young man opened the door and before Kira could say a word, he felt himself beginning to cry. Unable to speak, he did the unthinkable and pressed his hands between his legs to convey the seriousness of his need. The man seemed to understand and carefully helped him inside. That’s when the worst happened. Kira just couldn’t hold it back a moment longer. With a pained, humiliated groan, he fell to the floor as it all began forcefully gushing out of him. He trembled and cried on his hands and knees, still unable to speak as it happened. The heat filling his pants certainly didn’t help with his now only semi-hard dick. The sound of urine pooling beneath him was loud in all the worst ways, but he couldn’t help but enjoy the utter relief of his poor strained bladder finally relaxing as it drained its overwhelming contents. The feeling was so great that Kira's hands tensed as if they were trying to grip the floor beneath him. He shuddered and sighed. Finally, when the stream slowed to a stop, Kira felt the man's hand rubbing his back. “Are you alright, sir? Do you want me to call someone for you?” “I’m so, so sorry!” was the only thing the mortified Kira could manage before he burst into tears once more.
  7. Fugos witnesses: (Fugo pisses himself. Abbacchio and Narancia have very different reactions) (Nobody dies AU because I'm a baby. For time reference, Narancia is 20, Fugo is 18, and Abbacchio is 24 in this) Some things never change. Abbacchio smiled to himself as he observed the younger boys before him. Fugo was assisting Narancia as he flied taxes for the first time, but as time went on, Abbacchio began to notice something. Fugo was really focused. It seemed that, perhaps, he was too focused. As he watched the boy, he began to pick up on strange behaviors. Every so often, Fugo would straighten his posture and shift weight from foot to foot as if he were getting impatient with assisting the older boy, however, Abbacchio knew this wasn't the case. Fugo was awful at hiding frustration and anger. If he was annoyed with Narancia, he would be making that very clear. It had to be something else. He paid closer attention. In doing this, he was able to pick up on the fact that Fugo's breath was really uneven, often huffing and gasping softly. It was also noticed that his hands kept grabbing at his knees. Abbacchio recognized these behaviors. There was no doubt in his mind that Fugo had to piss. Abbacchio wondered if the boy was ignoring his needs on purpose, or he was really just so into helping the other that he hadn't noticed them. Either way, Abbacchio couldn't help but feel aroused by this. It was clear from his increasingly fidgety body language and small, yet telling grunts, that Fugo was aching to go. From what Abbacchio could remember, Fugo had last had something to drink no less than 7 hours ago, after which, he hadn't gone to the bathroom since. He was definitely at full capacity by now. Abbacchio bit his lip and slowly removed his hard-on from his clothing, thanking the world that the two boys were to busy to notice and that table concealed his dirty actions as he begun to pump himself rather lovingly... Fugo gulped. He was using every ounce of his strength to remain composed, keep focused, and pinch the tiny muscles that held back the immense fluid pressure. He was utterly desperate, to let go and it felt like any wrong move would or easing of muscles would trigger release he would be unable to stop. God, he really wanted to leave and chase relief, but he really didn't think he could walk now. Just one wrong step and he would endure humiliation. What could he do? He began to panic internally. The only way out of this was to wait until the others left the rooms to make an attempt to go, which was almost certain to fail and lead to a mess he'd have to rush to clean, or try now and risk humiliation trying to save himself the exhaustion of holding it for...well...however long that would be. Abbacchio picked up on this desperation and decided right then that he wouldn't leave this room until Fugo's predicament reached it's climax. He held a hand over his mouth to keep himself from moaning as he fully indulged himself. His heart was racing from the adrenaline rush of earnestly masturbating right in front of two of his best friends. It just felt so good...He gritted his teeth and picked up the pace, beginning to sweat. Fugo was so close to losing control. His panic was palpable. Abbacchio gave himself a playful tug as Fugo's fist slammed onto the table, his other hand shooting between his legs as he groaned loudly. Narancia took notice and covered his mouth as urine burst from between Fugo's legs, spraying harshly in several directions as he failed to stop or even slow its forceful exit. Fugo looked to the floor and trembled as a particularly sensual moan escaped him. The relief was intense. Narancia stood up and wrapped an arm around Fugo, slowly guiding him to sit down as the flow continued, apologizing and encouraging him to just keep letting it out, muttering comforting phrases as Fugo sniffled and began to cry, his face burning with shame. The whole scene drove Abbacchio mad as he grew closer to orgasm, accidentally moaning loud enough to draw Narancia's attention. He froze as he locked eyes with the boy, face flushed and unable to hide what he'd been doing. He simply mouthed, "I'm sorry." Narancia frowned, cringed, and shook his head before rushing Fugo out of the room, drops of urine trailing behind them. Abbacchio bit his lip and quietly finished himself off. It felt amazing. Pity for Rohan: (Rohan gets scared out of his mind and pisses himself. Someone unexpected helps him out) (This is actually lightly inspired by real events in which I was stuck outside at night in the cold rain and scared half to death. lol) It was growing dark and cold outside, rain and wind eliciting shivers from Rohan as he made his way along the street, clutching a bag as if his life depended on it. This was yet another one of his unusual escapades to be utilized in making his manga realistic. He was doing his best to induce fear and vulnerability in himself. It was working quite well. He wouldn't dream of admitting it, but Rohan was still terribly afraid of the dark. His heart raced as he instinctively searched the area for any threats. He could barely make out any details through the rain. He wanted to go home. He was tired, hungry, miserable, and in dire need of a restroom, but he was committed. He couldn't turn his back now. Pressing against a wall, he allowed himself to cry. this went on for a little while before he gathered himself and continued on his walk. It was eerily quiet now. Even the wind and rain were merely a light ambience paired with his footsteps. Rohan's stomach churned with dread and he started to dearly regret doing this. His heart was pounding, fear fully overcoming his mind as he began to unconsciously whimper. It was then that he began to hear a second pair of footsteps coming from behind him. He froze, his blood chilling as the steps grew closer. Suddenly, a voice called out to him with a short, "hello, " causing his heartrate to spike as he nearly shrieked. Turning to face the voice, he stumbled and fell to the ground, shutting his eyes in the process. That's when he lost it. "No! No no no!" Rohan yelped. Despite his efforts to pinch his legs and hold back, his bladder began to empty itself, soaking his pants and blending with the fallen rain beneath him. He trembled and sobbed as he opened his eyes and recognized the man in front of him, "I'm so sorry you had to see that! I...I've never been this humiliated!" Rohan pulled his knees to his chest and half-berried his face in them, tightly grabbing at himself through his pants to stop the flow prematurely. Tonio approached cautiously, not wanting to upset Rohan any further, as he was clearly at his most vulnerable. He waited for Rohan to look into his eyes before extending a helping hand. The gesture was hesitantly accepted, and Rohan was lifted from the ground, one hand still glued between his legs as he struggled to hold in the rest, whimpering desperately through gritted teeth. Tonio gave a pitiful look. "Hey...It's alright if you need to let go of the rest. You're already wet and it seems to be quite painful...There's no shame in relief. I promise I won't mind." "I-if you insist..." Rohan muttered, deeply grateful for opportunity to finish urinating. He looked away and slowly removed his hand from his groin. Surely enough, the flow resumed, although stunted heavily. He grunted in frustration. Tonio nodded and positioned himself beside Rohan, gently pushing the area below his belly to coax the urine out. Rohan's breath hitched as the dam fully broke. He covered his mouth. The two watched the stream as it exited his body with urgency, neither one daring to say a word. Finally, it stopped. Rohan sighed openly. "I bet you're feeling much better now. Come with me. I'll get you a change of clothing," Tonio put an arm around Rohan to guide him inside, but was surprised when he was pulled into a hug. He held the other man close, stroking his wet hair. "Please...P-Promise not to tell anyone about all of this..." Rohan sniffled. Tonio smiled. "I wouldn't dream of it."
  8. They found out Mikitaka was an alien and trapped him nude in the research facility! he doesn't want to shapeshift in front of them in fear that they'll experiment on him if they know he can shapeshift., but he really needed to go! Poor baby...(He's wearing socks because I can't draw feet and also I had to take a screenshot of my google docs to get this on my computer, lol. Enjoy the male/female hybrid genitals)
  9. This could not be happening. Jotaro found himself in the back seat of the car, along with Kakyoin, Polnareff, Avdol, and Joseph, who was driving. This would usually be no problem, however, right now, Jotaro had to piss more than he’d ever had to in his whole life. The pressure inside him was nearly painful and he felt if he moved the wrong way, he’d lose it all. His body stiffened and clenched with effort to hold back the fluid. Looking down, he could see a protrusion just above his groin, his two belts pushing into it. He gulped. He was more than full. It was inhuman. There was no being cool about this. He had to speak up. “Hey, old man. Pull over. I gotta take a piss.” He spoke, feeling a light blush heat his face. No response, “Hey, bastard! I said pull over! Good grief,” He gritted his teeth. What the hell was this? He summoned star platinum, who pushed the breaks of the car. “Ora!!” Star Platinum cried out in desperation retreating back to Jotaro, who, at the same time, felt a wave of urgency crashing over him. He growled and shoved his hands between his legs, giving himself a death grip. He’d done it though. The car was stopped! Quickly, he removed his hands from the offending area so that nobody would see his shameful lack of control. His relief faded all too soon when Joseph turned to face him, anger plastered on his face. Polnareff was staring at him with a look of disbelief. It was a kind of look that screamed, ‘what the hell was that for?’ “Do you think this is some kind of joke, Jotaro!? We need to find Dio as soon as possible. If we keep wasting time like this, your mother…” Joseph's face darkened. “He’s right. Jotaro, what’s going on? This is very unlike you. Surely you have a good reason for this, right?” Kakyoin's startled face looked into Jotaro’s almost pleadingly. Avdol only gave a disapproving grunt. “I wasn’t just fucking around! I need to piss like hell and you aren’t listening to me! I’m getting out of this car, damnit!” Jotaro huffed and began to unbuckle himself. When Joseph reached over his seat and held the young man back from the door. “No way in hell you’re getting out of this car unless you have a very good reason! Otherwise, I’m going to continue thinking you’re just fucking around!” he said angrily. Now Jotaro was, of course, enraged, but also confused. Had nobody understood? He had to piss! He was so close to bursting that he just couldn’t stop himself from shaking. His tip pinched between his legs dribbled frequently into his boxers despite the strong hold. Jotaro had the urge to just let go right then, but he kept his composure and thought through the situation. Although he respected the others and, although he wouldn’t admit it, loved them, he was very annoyed with them right now. Jotaro took a deep, shaking breath and shook his head. It was as if everything he’d said about needing to piss was being completely disregarded! Wait… “I need to pee…” he spoke through his teeth, feeling his face flush at the childishness of it. The response was odd. “Well, aren’t you gonna say anything? We’re waiting,” Joseph's brows furrowed. Jotaro gulped. That had to be it. Someone or something was preventing Jotaro from communicating his need. But what? And why? What was the purpose of this? How did it benefit anyone? “Are you ok, Jotaro? You’re looking rather distraught. Are you feeling sick?” Avdol said as he observed Jotaro’s state. Jotaro realized that his sweating and pale complexion was giving them the wrong idea. He needed to think fast, otherwise he was going to be treated like the last time he was sick. Forced to lie down and be still for a long time. He shuddered at the thought and furiously shook his head ‘no.’ “Are you hurt?” Kakyoin put a concerned hand on his shoulder, “You look like you’re in pain. Your eyes are…watering…” he looked away with regret, remembering how Jotaro hated to appear weak or ‘uncool’ in front of others. Surely he’d made Jotaro even more embarrassed than he already was, “S-sorry…” “What is it, already!? Are you having a panic attack or something?” Polnareff cocked his head to the side, exasperated. “Spit it out, kiddo!” Joseph spoke for everyone. If he couldn’t communicate his need verbally, Jotaro thought, maybe he could do it indirectly. He glared at the ground and tried with all his might to push his embarrassment aside. Groaning desperately, Jotaro shoved his hands between his legs and made a point to cross one over the other as he whimpered. This was humiliating, yes, but he would be beyond mortified if he ended up pissing himself- in his 20000 yen pants, no less! Joseph's expression morphed into one of surprised pity, then bewildered frustration, and finally, guilt. “I’m sorry, Jotaro…go ahead and take your time, but next time just tell me you had to go, ok?” He facepalmed, blushing. Jotaro didn’t have time to respond, he pushed his way out the door and fell to his knees on the ground. Feverishly, he undid both of his buckles and zipper, his stream already starting up as he forced his boxers down, not having time to utilize the opening built into them. He couldn’t help but moan and pant in relief as the fluid shot out of him. His stream was strong against the sand. Whimpering in pleasure, Jotaro forgot that he was fully visible to everyone in the car. They could hear all the sounds he was making…The deep grunting moans did not stop, however, and the stream remained strong for a full minute before slowing to a stop. Jotaro let his hands hit the ground as he trembled and caught his breath. Kakyoin was the first to break the ice, whispering to the others a reminder to be kind before quietly exiting the car and kneeling beside Jotaro. Jotaro immediately shifted his position to cover himself. “Are you alright?” Kakyoin's voice was gentle. Jotaro gave a timid nod “Feeling better now that you’re all emptied?” Jotaro nodded once more, his face flushing yet again. Kakyoin rested a hand over Jotaros back before rubbing circles over it. Jotaro sighed, breath still shaking, “Good…Just keep taking deep breaths. Your body needs a minute to recover from the strain…” “Ngh-ngggghhh…” a sob escaped Jotaro, ignoring his wishes to be spared of any further humiliation. He struggled to hold back further cries, but the shame was so overwhelming that it was hard to. “Hey, it’s alright…” Kakyoin closed the car door behind them, “If you need to cry, just let it out.” he soothed. This was instantly followed by an eruption of sobs from Jotaro, “J-Jotaro, are you hurt!?” Jotaro shook his head, “You just…really needed to cry, huh?” Jotaro nodded through tears, his face beet red. Kakyoin rubbed his back a little faster, “Don’t worry about it…I’ve got you. Just feel your feelings…need a hug?” “Y-yes please…” Jotaro grunted. Kakyoin smiled. “C’mere, big guy. Just cry into me. Everything’s alright”
  10. Gwess will let Jolyne use the bathroom under one condition. But it's too late anyways. Thanks to Papergami for the art

    © Pixiv.net

  11. AN: It's been a long while since I posted anything, but I've been in a Jojo mood lately and I figured there could be some really interesting things I could do with omorashi and stands. There's no depseration or wetting in the prologue, unfortunately. This merely sets up the main characters and the story. I'll be uploading the next chapter very shortly, and that one will contain desperation, because there's not much point in posting an omorashi story with no omorashi in it. P.S. See end of each chapter for musical references. Prologue: Sugimoto Arisu Morioh Town. Population, 58,741. A peaceful town located in Japan’s M prefecture next to S city. It’s a simple town that still holds the remnants of the ancient time of samurai. Villas and rice fields still litter the less-developed parts of town. It was only twenty years ago that Morioh went through some rather explosive development. Rice fields were turned into land for houses, streets were repaired, and stores and markets began popping up in the center of town. Just last summer, some really bizarre things started happening all around town. People with unique abilities, called Stands, began popping up all over town. It’s said these people, called “Stand Users” are drawn towards each other naturally. I don’t quite remember how it happened, but I, too, gained a Stand ability last year. Perhaps that’s why I was able to meet those two guys who roped me and my friends into a crazy adventure of my own. This is the story of my very own “bizarre adventure”. *** “Daiyaka-san!!” The angry yell came from a girl stomping down the halls of Budo-ga Oka High School. The girl had intense, pink eyes and dark brown hair that flowed down to her shoulders, with bangs parted down the on her left side and tucked behind her ears with a gold star pin. She was wearing as standard navy blue sailor-style girl’s uniform, but she had a button with a red heart pinned to her shirt just above her waist and off to the right, and she was wearing red thigh high stockings. She approached a boy with mid-length black hair and amber eyes. He was clad in a boy’s uniform, but he had an up arrow pin on the right side of his collar, and a down arrow pin on the left side. The boy also had a clean, horizontal scar on the right side of his face. He turned around just in time to spot the girl and let out a shocked “Arisu-san!” before she grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and slammed him into the wall. “Daiyaka-san! What’s the meaning of this!” Arisu asked, holding up a half-eaten bar of chocolate, “I left this bar of chocolate in my shoe locker for later, and I know you know the combination! Not only did you eat it, but then you put it back unwrapped where I keep my shoes! I can’t even eat the rest of it now!” Daiyaka let out a heavy sigh and shrugged, “Oh, it was something like that...” “What the hell do you mean ‘something like that’!?” “I mean, I wasn’t the one who ate your chocolate bar.” Daiyaka replied. “Don’t give me that crap!” Arisu yelled, “You’re the only one who knows the combination besides me. It had to be you!” “Do you think that explanation works in this school?” Daiyaka asked, “Or have you forgotten.” “You mean, you’re going to blame this on a random Stand User!? You’ve gotta be kiddin’ me!” Arisu reeled her arm back as though she were going to punch Daiyaka in the face, but as she pulled back, her arm bumped into someone behind her. She immediately let go of Daiyaka and whirled around, bowing and apologizing to the person behind her. Meanwhile, Daiyaka rubbed his shoulder, looking up at who Arisu had bumped into. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he stumbled back into the wall in astonishment. “W-wait, y-you’re…. You’re the manga artist, Kishibe Rohan!” Sure enough, standing before them in the middle of a school hallway, wearing his standard outfit, was Kishibe Rohan. Behind him was a high school student from their school. Although he was a high school student, he stood on equal height as Rohan. The top of his uniform jacket was pinned open, one side with a gold, heart-shaped pin and the other with a gold peace sign pin. Though perhaps the most unique thing about him was his meticulously combed and maintained pompadour. Arisu also looked up, giving off one more apology, “S-sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” Rohan shook his head, “No, it’s fine. You didn’t see me behind you. You didn’t do it on purpose.” “Kishibe Rohan-sensei,” Daiyaka spoke up, his eyes still wide, “If I may ask, what brings the famous manga artist of Morioh to Budo-ga Oka High School? Is there some sort of event going on that I didn’t know about?” “A fan of mine, huh?” Rohan asked, grinning slightly, “No, unfortunately, there’s nothing like that. I’m just here doing some research. After all, a high school is a rather popular setting in manga.” Rohan turned to leave, when the high school student behind him did a double take and glanced back down at Arisu. “W-wait, Rohan… that girl, isn’t she the one we’re looking for?” Rohan’s eyes widened and he looked down at Arisu as well. The manga artist reached into his pocket and pulled out a photo, holding it up and comparing its contents with the girl before them. “Y-you’re right!” Rohan noted, eyes widening further, “It might seem completely improbable but… we just wound up bumping into her!” Arisu tilted her head, “You were looking for me?” “What’s your name?” Rohan asked, “It’s important that you tell us your full name, right now!” The intensity of Rohan’s voice startled Daiyaka, but Arisu stood her ground, “My name… is Sugimoto Arisu.” Rohan and the high school student’s eyes both widened at her response. “S-Sugimoto…” Rohan echoed, “That would explain the photograph.” Arisu frowned, snatching the photo out of Rohan’s hands, “Say, why do you have a photo of me in the first place?” “It’s a long story,” Rohan replied, “Josuke.” Rohan turned to the high school student behind him, who looked back at him with wide eyes and pointed to himself dumbly, “W-wait, you want me to explain it to them?” “It would be better if someone closer to their age talked to them, don’t you think?” Rohan asked. Josuke let out an exasperated sigh, “I thought I was just showing you around… tricking me like that isn’t great, you know.” Despite his protests, Josuke turned towards the two high schoolers and explained the situation, with Rohan butting in every now and again, seemingly to get on Josuke’s nerves. Apparently, Arisu was related to someone named Sugimoto Reimi, a girl who died when she was 16 at the hands of a serial killer. Arisu confirmed this, stating that Sugimoto Reimi was the name of her father’s late younger cousin. “This might be hard to believe, but up until recently, the spirit of Sugimoto Reimi resided in this town as a bound spirit,” Josuke replied, “She wanted to make sure someone put a stop to her killer’s serial murders.” “Y-you’re telling me the person who killed Sugimoto Reimi was still loose after all this time?” Arisu asked. “Yeah,” Josuke nodded, “He was a real piece of work. A psychopath known as Yoshikage Kira.” “Anyway,” Rohan interrupted, “An old associate of ours was trying to use a special ability to communicate with Sugimoto Reimi’s spirit. Well, it was more of a thing he tried to do just to see if he could. He wasn’t able to reach her, but he managed to take two pictures of you.” “Wait,” Arisu asked, “Two pictures? But you only showed me the one.” “T-that’s becasue the second one is... “ Josuke turned his head to the side and scratched his cheek, “Well, see for yourself.” Josuke turned to Rohan, who nodded and passed another picture to Arisu. The brown-haired girl looked over at the picture with wide eyes. The picture showed her, standing up with her hands chained over her head and black chains wrapping around her entire body. “Our associate’s photos have a certain level of clairvoyance,” Rohan explained, “We believe you are in some grave danger, so we came to seek you out and find you immediately.” Arisu let what she had just been told sink in, staring down at the photos with wide eyes. “Pfft.” Arisu brought a hand up to her mouth and started laughing, “Pfffftttt, hahahahaha! Danger, you say? You misunderstand. You mentioned your associate having a special ability, right?Then I guess it’s also assume to say you both have one.” The two stared wide eyed as Arisu raised her hands above her head and crossed her wrists over one another. A pink aura appeared around her, and a feminine figure appeared behind her. The feminine figure, much like the picture of the Arisu in the photo, had chains wrapping around her entire body, as well as bandages that covered its chest and crotch. The figure’s eyes were covered with some sort of opaque visor, and it possessed flowing pink hair. The skin of it’s flesh was colored a baby blue, and that chains wrapping around it were a dark purple color. Rohan and Josuke both stepped back at the appearance of the figure, gazing at it with wide eyes. “You can see it, right? My stand, ‘In Chains’,” Arisu replied. “A… A Stand User!?” Josuke exclaimed. Rohan merely shrugged his shoulders and turned to leave, grabbing Josuke’s shoulder as well. “Come on,” Rohan replied, “Let’s go.” “But wait!” Josuke frowned, “She’s a Stand User!” “So?” Rohan asked, “It really doesn’t matter. We came here to warn her about a danger, but it was just her stand, right? So we don’t need to worry.” Josuke shook his head, “That’s not necessarily true! My old man might be going senile, but his spirit photos wouldn’t just show a random Stand User for no reason! Arisu!” Josuke pointed to the brown-haired girl, “Let me ask you something. Have you noticed anything unusual going on at school recently?” Arisu placed a finger on her lip, “Hmm, not that I know of.” Josuke nodded, “Great! I hope it stays that way, but be on the lookout for something strange.” Arisu frowned, “You know, now that you mentioned it, there is something really strange in this school.” Josuke looked back at Arisu with wide eyes, “W-wait, really? What is it?” Arisu smirked, narrowing her eyes and pointing up at Josuke, “That ridiculous hair of yours. It’s the strangest thing I’ve seen in a while, to be honest!” Daiyaka, who was watching the exchange, facepalmed, “That Arisu… she always has to point it out when something’s bothering her. She can’t ever shut up if she notices something she finds stupid!” “She… she came out and said it…. She came right out and said it!” Rohan exclaimed, his voice filled with panic. “Sugimoto Arisu…” Josuke began, his face obscured by the shadows falling over his eyes, “What…. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SAY ABOUT MY HAIR!” A pink aura with a gemstone-like sparkle glistening in it emerged from Josuke, forming into a humanoid shape and solidifying into Josuke’s stand, Crazy Diamond. “Dora!” the stand cried, reeling it’s arm back and punching forwards. Arisu’s stand emerged before her, crossing her arms in front of her and blocking Crazy Diamond’s first punch. Crazy Diamond then drew back, raising both arms and preparing for a full-on barrage. “Dorararararararararararara! Dora! Dorararararararara!” Despite Arisu’s best efforts, her stand wasn’t able to withstand the flurry of punches flying from Crazy Diamond’s fists. In Chains staggered backwards, and it’s cross guard was broken as both it and Arisu slammed against the wall behind them. “Josuke! Calm down!” Rohan tried, but to no avail. No matter how loud he yelled, Josuke wouldn’t hear it. That was just how Josuke got when people insulted his hair. “You’ll pay for insulting my hair, bastard!” Josuke yelled, glaring at Arisu with eyes alit with fury. Crazy Diamond tried to reel back for one final punch, but Josuke felt his arms get caught. Purple chains appeared around Crazy Diamond’s arms, and the two arms were bound together. Crazy Diamond staggered as it’s arms were caught, and Josuke followed suit. “W-what!? Why you….!” Arisu grinned, “My ‘In Chains’ has the ability to ‘seal’ things it touches. I’ve sealed away your punches by binding your arms together. You won’t be going ‘dorarararara’ at me any time soon! Still, your Stand… is really, really strong.” Rohan grinned, “Now’s my chance, HEAVEN’S DOOR!” Rohan rushed up to Josuke and a visage of Pink Dark Boy that looked like floating lineart appeared, touching Josuke’s face. The skin started peeling back, revealing paper like a book. Rohan grabbed a pen out of his pocket and quickly wrote in “I will forget Sugimoto Arisu insulted my hair”. Rohan then closed the pages on Josuke’s face and called his stand back, and Josuke looked around, dispelling his stand in the process. “Huh? What was I doing?” Rohan then let out a heavy sigh, “That was a close one.” He then turned to leave, dragging Josuke behind him, but before he started off, Josuke paused and turned back to Arisu. “That Stand of yours is pretty strong. I don’t think we have to worry about you,” Josuke replied, “but just in case, I’m Higashikata Josuke, a second year. My homeroom is class 2-F, so you can always come find me if you need any help. My Crazy Diamond’s ability can heal people and repair things, so don’t be afraid to rely on me!” With that, both Josuke and Rohan started down the hallway, leaving Arisu and Daiyaka alone once more. “Now,” Arisu turned back to Daiyaka, with an angry look on her face, “about my chocolate bar… In Chains!” Alice called her stand back, and the two stood menacingly over Daiyaka, Arisu cracking her knuckles as she approached him. “I… I didn’t eat your chocolate! I swear! A-Arisu-san, let's be reasonable.... ARISU-SAN!" <To Be Continued ====== Musical References: Sugimoto Arisu and her stand, "In Chains"- A reference to the American 90's rock band band "Alice in Chains"
  12. So here is a JoJo stand that I came up with after listening to a super best friends podcast. Maybe that could be part of our mascot in the making? So this stand would operate on the style as Mariah's stand where when you touch it or in this case use it, It would not effect you that bad until a short period of time has passed after you used the stand. It would give you the debilitating need to pee and you have to go all the time. Or the stand could effect you by not letting pee at all for up to 24 hours depending on how sadistic the stand user is. And when you feel shame for going in your pants it goes into overdrive where you are peeing until you are dehydrated. I think that this stand would have a second form where it looks like a feminine figure needing to pee, And it would be able to active it's stand powers in the form of a urine colored beam. What do you think? Could you come up with better stands?
  13. So I just picked up jojos bizarre adventure part six and noticed a lot of references to wetting and such the other parts of the books had some but never as much I just wanted to share its a good series and I recommend it if your looking for a good show or read
  14. So in a resent chapter of jojo’s bizarre adventure part 8 there was a short scene mentioning a character wearing diapers. Its not much and nothing really was shown but its fun to think about.
  15. After reading Jolyne's brief desperation scene in Jojo's Bizarre Adventure, I knew I had to do a story about her. Omovember has given me a way to do that! Bear in mind that this will make no sense to anyone without at least a basic knowledge of Jojo. (The original scene is here, by the way: https://www.omorashi.org/gallery/image/25534-jojos-bizarre-adventure-stone-ocean-jolyne-needs-to-pee-12/ and https://www.omorashi.org/gallery/image/25535-jojos-bizarre-adventure-stone-ocean-jolyne-needs-to-pee-22/) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Day 20: Deliberate wetting as part of a plan Jolyne (JJBA) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Looking back, Jolyne Kujo couldn’t remember a time when her life could be called “normal.” But lately, it seemed like it had been one bizarre event after another. Breaking out of prison, gaining unnatural abilities, trying to stop a priest from resetting the world… it sounded even crazier in her head. And now here she was at a fast-food restaurant, helping a sentient colony of plankton place a drink order. “The number nine comes with a small drink, correct?” asked the plankton in question. She went by the name of Foo Fighters, or F.F. for short. Although she had taken the form of a human body, her imitation of human mannerisms left a lot to be desired. “For the last time, yes,” said the pimple-faced teen behind the register. “Now will you please order? You’re holding up the line.” “My friend will just have a large drink,” said Jolyne quickly. “Water’s fine.” “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” asked the cashier.”Okay, combined with your order, that will be $6.28.” Jolyne paid and quickly exited the restaurant. She had altered her appearance, but still didn’t want to stay inside too long in case someone recognized her. She and Foo Fighters walked over to a secluded picnic table and sat down. Due to her unusual biology, F.F. needed to ingest large amounts of water. And Jolyne needed to eat just like anybody else. She took a long sip of her soda, almost gagging at the overly-sweet taste. Still, she drained the bottle; it was a hot Florida day and she needed to stay hydrated. Before she could take a bite of her burger, however, Foo Fighters grabbed her arm. “Look at that person,” F.F. whispered, pointing. Jolyne saw a man in a muscle shirt walking down the street about 100 yards from them. He appeared to be normal, and Jolyne was about to ask what the big deal was. Then, she saw a humanoid shape emerge from the man and hover in the air a few feet behind him. “A Stand user?” Jolyne hissed. “Here?” Stands were embodiments of the user’s spirit that could manifest in many strange ways. Jolyne’s own Stand, Stone Free, let her unravel parts of her body into string with a variety of uses. But what could this stranger’s Stand do? Jolyne took a closer look. The Stand had a pale body that resembled a mannequin, naked and featureless. Its face had a long pointed nose and pale yellow eyes. On its back, it had several large holes. As Jolyne watched, long tubes extended from them. They twisted and waved around, like they were searching the area. Jolyne noticed a second man, approaching from the other direction. The tubes suddenly shot out, piercing his skin in several places. He didn’t react at first; Stands were invisible to non-Stand users. But as Jolyne watched, a red liquid flowed through the tubes and back to the Stand. The man slowed, then collapsed, pale as a corpse. The tubes let go, then stuck themselves into the Stand user, transferring all that blood to him. “Oh my God,” whispered Jolyne. Silently, she produced a string from her finger. It looked like a fight was brewing. The man turned towards them. “Well,” he hissed, “what do we have here? Two more Stand users?” “That is correct,” said Foo Fighters, whose Stand let her disguise herself as human. “What did you do to that man?” The stranger laughed. “Isn’t it obvious?” He struck a dramatic pose. “I am Udo Uteger! My stand, Sunday Bloody Sunday, allows me to drain the lifeblood of my victims. And you two are next!” “Give me a break,” Jolyne sneered. She concentrated and summoned the physical form of Stone Free, a cyan humanoid wearing shades. Sunday Bloody Sunday shot out its tubes again, but Jolyne was ready. She summoned a razor-sharp string and sliced off the tips of two of the tubes, which recoiled and drooped. Seizing the opportunity, Stone Free threw a powerful punch at Udo, but his Stand intercepted it. It tried to follow up with an attack of its own, but Stone Free unravelled its body into string, avoiding the blow. With both Stands occupied, Jolyne turned her attention towards Udo. She lashed out her string and caught him by the ankle, sending him sprawling. Foo Fighters followed up on the attack, shooting small clusters of Plankton at him like bullets. Udo yelled in surprise and pain as the projectiles pierced his skin. Sunday Bloody Sunday pushed Stone Free away and leapt in front of its user, shielding him. It sent out its remaining tubes, firing them straight at Jolyne’s chest. She simply unwound her torso, and the tubes harmlessly flew past her. “Is that the best you can do?” taunted Jolyne. Then she felt a stinging sensation in her lower back. She turned and saw that the tubes had redirected themselves after their initial miss. To her horror, Jolyne saw her own blood begin to flow through them. She tried to pull the tubes out, but she was losing strength at an alarming rate. She heard Foo Fighters scream her name. Then everything went black. “Jolyne! Jolyne!” Groggily, Jolyne opened her eyes. She was on her back, and Foo Fighters was staring down at her with a worried expression. “Urgh…” groaned Jolyne. “What happened?” “Right before you passed out, Stone Free was able to knock Udo down,” F.F. explained, “giving me time to carry you to safety. I was able to staunch your wounds, but you lost a lot of blood. How do you feel?” Jolyne took a moment to self-assess. Her head was throbbing and she found herself unable to stand. “Not good,” she said. “Where are we, anway?” “In the bathroom of a truck stop,” said Foo Fighters. “It was the closest shelter I could find.” “Bathroom, huh?” Jolyne repeated. She felt a pressure in her midsection, and realized something else: all that soda had gone right through her. “Help me up, F.F,” Jolyne groaned. “I need to take a piss.” “No time,” said Foo Fighters. “Udo will be here any minute, and we have to be ready to fight.” “I’m in no condition to do that,” said Jolyne. A pang ran through her bladder. “Just help me to the toilet; I’m begging you.” “No,” said F.F. simply. “You can’t waste time doing that; you must be prepared.” “I’m about to wet my pants, dammit!” cried Jolyne. “Hmm,” said Foo Fighters, a strange expression on her face. “That gives me an idea.” “Oh yeah?” asked Jolyne. “What’s that?” “I don’t have time to explain,” said F.F, “but I need you to trust me. First, wet yourself.” “What?” cried Jolyne. “Are you crazy?” “Either that,” said Foo Fighters calmly, “or you can urinate directly on me.” “Yeah ,definitely crazy.” “Jolyne, just trust me!” F.F. begged her. Jolyne sighed. What do I have to lose? she thought. I can’t hold it much longer anyway. “Okay,” said Jolyne. “I trust you.” Despite how full her bladder was, Jolyne found it hard to allow herself to let go. Eventually, however, she let out a little dribble of pee. More followed, quickly soaking the front of her pants and darkening the blue fabric. Jolyne felt herself blush, her emotions mixed. The relief felt good, but wetting herself felt disgusting and humiliating. Foo Fighters, I hope you know what you’re doing, she thought as she continued to wet herself. After a while, Jolyne’s bladder was drained. She sat on the floor, a large wet patch on the front of her pants. “Okay,” she grumbled, “I did it. Now what?” Foo Fighters didn’t say anything. Instead, she put her mouth to the crotch of Jolyne’s pants and started licking. “What the hell?” yelled Jolyne. “Get off of me!” F. F. ignored her and kept slurping. When she finally removed her head, Jolyne’s pants were completely dry. “You know,” said Jolyne, her face red, “if you were that thirsty, there’s a sink in here.” “That’s not it,” said Foo Fighters. “I needed to-” She was interrupted when the door to the bathroom flew off its hinges. Udo was standing there, Sunday Bloody Sunday hovering behind him. “Found you!” he shouted triumphantly. “Let’s end this!” His Stand shot its tubes towards Jolyne, but Foo Fighters jumped in front and they pierced her neck instead. “Oh well,” said Udo. “Your blood’s as good as any.” As he said that, Jolyne realized what the plan was. “No!” she cried dramatically. “Take me instead!” “Begging will get you nowhere,” sneered Udo. “Sunday! Bring me the blood!” His Stand obeyed, sticking the tubes into him. But the liquid that flowed through them was yellow, not red. Udo laughed at first. Then he screamed. “What’s going on?” Udo howled. “This doesn’t feel right!” “That’s because my body doesn’t contain one drop of blood,” said Foo Fighters. “It does, however, contain approximately 350 mls of urine that I recently ingested.” “Aagh!” cried Udo, keeling over in pain. Jolyne saw her chance. Using the last of her strength, she summoned Stone Free. It rushed past Sunday Bloody Sunday, which was still unwittingly pumping pee into its user, and descended upon Udo, taking him down with a flurry of blows. As he fell unconscious, his Stand faded away. With the battle over, Foo Fighters helped Jolyne to her feet. “Thanks for that,” said Jolyne, still a little groggy. “I should’ve known you’d come up with something.” “You’re welcome,” said F.F. “The plan may have been unusual, but it was still a success.” “Sure was,” said Jolyne. “Just promise me your next plan will involve less bodily fluids.” --------------------------------------------- Stand Name: Sunday Bloody Sunday (サンディー・ブラッディー・サンディー) Stand Master: Udo Uteger (ウードー・ユーテガー) Destructive Power: C Speed: B Range: C Persistence: B Precision: A Developmental Potential: E
  16. Preface: More than a year later I'm pulling out this story I suggested on my blog. For those who are big into Jojo, this is supposed to take place after the battle with Notorious B.I.G., and before they finish with Metallica. I may do a part 2. Let me know what you think with a comment or something, or just an upvote. Word Count: ~6k Time to Read: 20 minutes or less Fighting Gold Guido Mista was pacing around the center carpet of the secret turtle room, ranting to himself as Giorno and Trish looked on. The eccentric man was amazing with a pistol, but when it came to other topics he could be difficult. “I’m not going there,” Mista said, “If it was on any other street, maybe, sure as a favor, but on that street, never!” Trish watched him as she sipped a bottle of mineral water through a straw. It seemed no matter how insane their travels became, there were some personality quirks that would never change. Giorno didn’t seem to be paying much attention, and was reading a newspaper they had received from the other members of Bucciarti’s team before they left to scout ahead. Occasionally he looked up, and then turned his turquoise eyes back down. Trish stopped sucking on her mineral water, and pursed her painted lips together, “Why can’t you go, exactly?” “Forgetting that it is a bad idea, and that Bucciarti told us to stay hidden while they check out the island,” Mista stopped pacing, and his face twisted into an annoyed expression. Trish rolled her hands in the air, hoping something would get him to finish his thought. “That market is on 4th street!” Mista shouted, “I can’t shop there. You’ll just have to make do with that water, we can worry about the rest later.” “Worry about it later?” Trish said while looking up from her bottle, “I’ve been worrying about it since we left venice.” Giorno dropped his newspaper and looked at the other two, “What is this about?” Mista stiffened up, “What? This? She wanted me to do some shopping for her, before we go and try to find out the Boss’s identity.” The golden-haired boy looked over at Trish, who turned her eyes away and went back to sipping at her mineral water. “This isn’t the time for shopping,” Giorno said, “we should be hiding out. If there are anymore assassins, they might catch us out in the open. Bucciarti went over this.” Mista chuckled, scratching at his neck before turning back to Trish, “Exactly Giorno, that’s what I told her. She wouldn’t believe me. Then she tried to have me go to that market place, I would have died for sure.” Giorno went to pull his newspaper up, and then immediately dropped it again, “What were you going to buy?” Trish tilted her head, “Not that it is any of your business, but some of us don’t like being stuck in the same underpants for so long. I haven’t had a chance to change since we left.” Giorno furrowed his brow, “That’s silly, this is a life or death situation. We just almost died in that plane and you’re worried about underpants?” “All the more reason to be worried!” Trish said as she sat up in her seat, “What if I had died in the same panties I’d been wearing for a week? That’s disgusting!” Mista’s stance shifted, and he scratched at his waistband as he thought about it. Giorno shook his head and stood up from his seat, “Mista, we should check the area again. Make sure it is still clear of any actual danger.” The boys went to the center of the room, and then their bodies were stretched and enlarged until Trish could see them at their full size through the window at the top of the secret room. It seemed that they still didn’t understand her situation. She knew it would be difficult being the only girl in a group of guys, but she never expected they would be fine living in filth. Before all of this started she only drank parisian water and wore designer brands. Now she would kill for a shower, at least, and a change. It was unhealthy to be in such inhumane conditions for so long. She understood that the others, especially Bucciarti, were risking their lives. They were doing it not only for their own safety, but for hers as well. Still, there were limits to what she could endure. Especially when she didn’t know how much longer they were going to be on the run. Trish got up from her seat and looked out the glass of the turtle’s hidden room. There was no sign of Giorno or Mista anymore. If she was fast, she could run and grab a fresh change from that market, and be back before anyone noticed. They would all come back safe with the name of her father, and no one would even know she had left. She exited the turtle, her mineral water in hand. They hid it in a small tourist booth, next to a bench. It was in an oddly open location, but she didn’t wait to question it. She tossed a brown cloak over her shoulders and started on her way into the little town on the beach of Sardinia. Most of the people in the little town seemed to be tourists from the mainland. Couples walking around with bags from this shop or another. Trish tried to seem inconspicuous, but between the drab cloak over her hair, and her fashionable skirt, someone was going to notice her for one or the other. Mista and Giorno were right, it was a bad idea to come. But she was already on 4th street, and at that point it was smarter to finish what she started and make it back just like she planned. She spotted a boutique, a small shop with dark blue exterior paint. There was a mannequin in the window in a cute orange skirt with a matching top. She could already guess which label it belonged to as she spotted it. That store would have what she needed. Trish ducked inside, dropping the cloak and shaking her hair back to proper form. “Uhm,” an older woman in a wide-shouldered dress suit cleared her throat to get Trish’s attention from across the store. “I’m glad you came in but uhm, no food or drink.” The woman pointed to a sign there by the entrance. Trish rolled her eyes at the woman. She didn’t know who she was talking to, so she could be forgiven for bothering Trish with small inconveniences. Then again, it would be a waste to throw the rest of the bottle out. Trish put a finger up to stop the other woman, then began to take heavier sips through her straw. As the woman watched, Trish finished the second half of the bottle, then handed it over. “You can throw that out,” Trish said as she went to check out the stock of the boutique. The woman almost dropped the bottle as it was handed to her, and gave a little huff of frustration before she went back behind the front counter to toss it. Trish’s main regret was that she didn’t have much money left on her. Some of the labels there were top of the line, and she could see herself in all of them. New tops, beautiful skirts, luxurious dresses. Some of the colors were a little out of season, but she couldn’t blame a little store in a tourist trap for that. “Miss?” The woman said as she walked to the opposite side of a display from Trish, “is there any particular item you are shopping for?” Trish looked away from the woman, moving to the next item. She grumbled under her breath, “Anything that doesn’t reek of seawater will do.” “Excuse me?” “Nothing,” Trish said, standing up and heading to a stack of blouses. The movement actually made her realize that she needed the restroom. She drank a whole mineral water earlier, then moved on to her second before Mista started his rant. After the situation with that enemy stand on the plane, she just wanted something to keep her calm. It was supposed to be comforting, now she was paying for it. At least she wasn’t in that turtle though, last time when Bucciarti tried to make her use… she shook the thought. “Do you have a bathroom?” Trish asked over her shoulder. “Excuse me?” The woman said again, it was starting to annoy Trish. “You know, to use the restroom.” The woman hesitated, and looked around, “Oh, uh, employees only I’m afraid.” Trish frowned, and clicked her tongue. Usually that would be fine, but she could already feel all that water building up. It was a bit of a walk back to the waterfront where that strange turtle was. She would have to cut her trip short, just grab the essentials. “Panties,” Trish said. “Huh?” “Take me to your undergarment section.” Trish pointed at the woman, and the older woman nodded and pointed the way. There wasn’t much there, actually. But there didn’t need to be. Center to it all were an absolutely cute pair. Trish picked them up and looked them over. Black, lace trim, delicate but comfortable material. They would hide well. Besides, anything was better than the week worn pair she was wearing. Even better, they were the perfect size despite being the last pair of that brand. “If I can put these on in the dressing room, I’ll take them.” The woman gave a nervous nod, and they proceeded to the counter. Trish pulled a clammy wad of bills out of her top, counted enough off, and handed them over to the woman at the register. The woman took the money with a smile, and then pointed to a small curtained off room at the back as she shoved the cash in the register. Trish took her newly purchased underpants and headed to put them on. Just like she thought, fast and easy. She would get out, find some bathroom along the walk home, and be done with this in time to get back before anyone knew she was gone. The panties slipped on perfectly. She knew her eyes hadn’t failed her, they were a great fit. The waist was a little tight against her body, sending a shiver through her midsection as her mind wandered to her bladder, but hopefully that would fade away when she relieved herself. She stepped out of the dressing room and looked for the older woman. No one else was in the boutique. Her product was paid for, and she didn’t really want to talk to the woman anymore anyway, so she shrugged and took her leave. Back on the street, she wrapped her cloak around her shoulders and looked up and down the street. A block further away, she could see a diner. It had little outdoor tables with umbrellas above to block out the sun. If she was in a different situation, she would have stopped to enjoy a bite to eat. But right now she just wanted their toilet. As Trish walked past a couple sitting at a table out front of the diner, she noticed their eyes on her. She didn’t have time for paranoia, not now. She walked through the door, and a man with a wide stomach and apron was standing in her way on the opposite side. Trish looked around him to see if she could spot a bathroom, and she saw what she wanted in the far corner, a sign on the wall pointing to the ‘il bagno’. “What do you want?” The man asked in a gruff and low voice. He had a clear pitcher in his hands with water to refill for the customers outside. “Just your restroom.” The man didn’t move, except for his eyes to peer over to his left, the direction of the bathroom. “That’s for customers.” His voice was direct, stern. This was a conversation he must have had in the past, telling off random people using his diner as nothing more than a piss pot. Trish wasn’t just anyone. She wasn’t a vagrant. “I just need to go quickly, I’ll buy something after.” Trish said as she started to step past him. The man’s arm moved out to block her path. “No, you can buy something now, or you can leave.” She felt a twinge of pain from her lower abdomen. Maybe it was the pressure, or walking around, but the mineral water was moving faster than she ever could have predicted. She squeezed her lower muscles, and shook her head. “I… yes, give me a moment.” She dug into her top and fished around for her money. Then she remembered that she just finished shopping at the boutique. All she had left was a small amount of change. She fished it out and looked at it, and the man looked down at the wadded up cash she was clutching. “Can I get, some water?” Trish asked with a reluctant look up. He moved the pitcher further from her, the water swishing around as he did. Her eye caught the swirling liquid, and she felt a ping in her bladder. “I’m not letting you ruin my restroom for a cup of water,” He said, “buy lunch, or go.” Trish stood up, and stamped her foot. “What is this? You won’t even take a customer? Is this how you treat people at your business!?” She raised her voice loud enough that she hoped people around would notice her. When she peered one way, she saw a man walking down the street look away, on her other side the couple eating were watching their plate. There was a man around the corner of the building, peering at her after she started making a scene, but based on his eyes she was sure he just wanted to leer at her. The owner of the diner grumbled, “Get out of here, you beggar!” He used his free hand to grab her wrist, her little bit of change falling to the ground, and pulled her hand up over her head. She shrieked in alarm, her heart beating faster, her legs kicking out at him as she tried to pull away. Her cloak fell off, and the man immediately let her go. When she looked up at him again, he seemed embarrassed. She was panting as her heart rate went back down. She looked around her, and now she had everyone’s attention. Did her appearance in her cloak make them think she was some nobody? She should have known. Trish stood up tall, and immediately regretted it. Pain went through her pelvis as her bladder swished and let out an alarm. She grunted and bent at the waist. “Sorry, I thought…” The man stammered, “I mean, you looked like.” “Can I get a water?” Trish said as she forced herself to stand again. She wasn’t going to humiliate herself in front of this nobody. She just needed the bathroom, she was fine. He reached inside and grabbed a glass, then used the pitcher to fill it. The sound of the waterfall was like knives in her stomach, and she tried to minimize how much her legs were trembling at the sound. He filled the glass high, and then handed it over. Trish thought about bending over to pay, and the pain it would bring. Instead she grabbed the glass and looked the man in the eyes. “You can get the money yourself.” He looked down and bent over to pick up the change. Trish started to drink. The water was delicious, refreshing, but every gulp of the drink made her want to drop the glass on the spot and speed-walk toward the bathroom. She told herself this still wasn’t an emergency, but the line between emergency and painful annoyance was fading by the second. She finished the glass, and let out a satisfying gasp. The man was finished grabbing the money, so Trish gave him his glass back and made a dismissive motion to get him to move out of the way. He stepped back, and she stepped into the diner. Crossing the diner was no problem, and thankfully no one was in the restroom. She made it, she was safe. She locked the door behind her, and prepared for her sweet relief. The bathroom was generously described as a hole in the floor surrounded by ceramic. There was a chain overhead to flush the whole apparatus with water once she was finished. It was someone’s definition of clean, no signs of someone else’s business, but the walls and tiles were disgusting. Trish didn’t have the time or energy to worry about that. Now that she was safe, her bladder was already making preparations for what came next. She pulled up her long skirt, and tried to get her fingers into the waistband of her new black panties. Her fingers slipped on the lacy material. She huffed, and went again, but she couldn’t quite get hold of them. It was nerves, she was sure of it. So she took a calm breath, and tried to pull her panties down again. Her fingers gripped the material just fine, but she couldn’t get anything between her body and the thin material. When she tried to pull the underwear away from herself, it was like yanking at her own skin. “Yowch!” She hissed as the soft skin just above her pubic area was pinched with the effort of trying to yank at the panties. Trish’s bladder rebelled. She didn’t know if it was because of her jostling her panties around, or just frustration that she was standing right in front of relief and couldn’t get it, but her lower body trembled and her legs tensed as she paused and concentrated. She wasn’t going to have an accident, not when she was this close. It wasn’t that bad yet, just a little painful. “Get off of me, you overpriced little…” Trish growled to herself as she tried other means. She tried to pull from below at her thigh, the panties stayed flush to her skin. She even tried the most brash tactic of pulling the gusset aside, only to find herself tugging on her most sensitive skin. “Why, why, why!” She whispered as her heart rate began to quicken. This wasn’t just tight clothing, she wasn’t too nervous or sweaty to get a good grip. There was something more going on here. There was a knock at the door to the bathroom, and a spark went up Trish’s spine as she stood up straight. “Excuse me?” Said a woman’s voice outside, “is someone in there?” Trish turned on the door. Now just the action of moving her legs was enough to cause concern. This was getting worse, she didn’t have time to deal with some idiot. “It is locked, isn’t it?” Trish replied. “Are you going to be long?” The woman asked, her voice growing quiet. “That’s none of your business!” Trish snapped, and she could hear the woman on the other side take a step back. “Rude!” “Hmph!” Trish snorted at the woman, but then her bladder twinged with pressure and she bent over at the waist. One knee went over the other as she tried to contain herself. She grumbled to herself as the pressure grew and grew in a wave. As the wave hit its peak, she forced a hand between her legs and held herself. The action made her blush, both from frustration and humiliation. “Okay, you’re coming off right now!” Trish shouted. “No, I don’t think I will.” Whispered a man’s voice. It was a slimy voice, like every man that has cat-called girls at night was fused into one being. Trish looked around, unsure where the voice was coming from. No one was in the room with her, which left very few options as to what was going on. “Down here, sweetie.” Trish looked down between her locked knees at the soft black material that had become such a hassle. She could just barely sense it, like pulses of energy coming off of the panties. An enemy stand! She thought as she gasped. She was only away from the others for a few minutes, and she was already under attack! How did they know where she was going to go, did they know she needed to buy new panties? Was this just bad luck? “See, you won’t be taking these off until I say so, understand beautiful? Which means for now, you can just stand there and squirm.” She only learned about her own stand recently, and she didn’t understand everything about how they worked. But she knew that if there was someone with a stand, then they probably worked for Passione, and therefore wanted to harm her. “What do you want me to do? If you want to kill me, could you at least let me… have some relief first?” Trish asked, trying to avoid the mounting problem. “Why would I want to kill you?” The man said, “We are going to become good friends, and now that you’re wearing Iron Maiden you won’t find any relief until I’ve had mine, kekeke!” Trish’s skin crawled as the man started to laugh. But she noted a few bits of information. It was definitely a stand, and with quite a name. The user was a creep of the worst kind. Did he want to see her suffer? What a pervert! The last part was still an unanswered question, but she didn’t think he knew who she was. If that was true, maybe he wasn’t part of Passione. Unfortunately, that meant that if she revealed her stand, she would give herself away. They were a rare power. Even if this guy was an idiot, he would know that if she had a stand she was either with Passione or with Bucciarti’s team. She needed to find a way to stop the stand, or the user. That much she knew. “I hope you don’t think you’re just going to get to stand around in there. Come back onto the street, missy.” Trish could feel another wave of pressure in her bladder, and she squeezed her thighs as it hit her. She groaned, and looked down to the floor as she put both hands between her legs. “Why are you doing this? Please just let me go in peace.” She looked around, “I’ll pay you!” “Stop wasting time, you won’t be able to hold all of that beautiful… uhmhm, you won’t be able to hold out forever. If you want me to let you go, then do everything I say. Otherwise, the urges will just get worse, understand?” As if on cue, her bladder spasmed. For the first time, she was actually afraid she would leak. Her muscles were growing tired, and with one pulse right after another, she was unprepared. She yelped and went back to bending forward. “I understand, I understand. I’m coming out, you creep.” She said. She opened the door to the restroom and headed back out into the diner. The stress between her legs was a constant ache at this point. She could barely walk normally, every other step requiring her to change her gait. Out in the diner was a portly woman who was yelling at the owner. When Trish came out the owner looked in her direction. He looked her up and down, and immediately Trish was sure that he could tell she was still walking strange. Did he suspect the truth, that she forced her way into his diner just to never use his bathroom? The angry client demanded his attention again, and Trish was thankful. She walked past him without a word and headed back onto the street. As soon as she stepped out she looked up and down the street. There weren’t too many people there. A few men walking down the street together, an old woman tending to a flower shop, a man leaning against a building across the way with his head down, a gruff looking man on a bike. No one looked like a stand user, no one looked like they were expecting her. Any of them could be the user, any of them were torturing her. “Okay,” she said out loud, looking around, “what now?” There was a pause, and for a moment Trish was worried that she was just being strung along. Her bladder trembled, and she squeezed her thighs while she tried not to look like a woman on the verge of a mortifying accident. She could feel her muscles growing tired. Her legs felt too sweaty, and beads were collecting on her brow and neck. One hand was gripped into a tight fist, and the other was on the waist of her skirt. Every instinct told her that she would have to pull her panties down at any moment, but logic told her that she couldn’t even if she wanted to. “I wanted to get a good look at you,” Said that man in his sleazy voice, “you look like a real stuck up bitch, but a hot one. You’ll do just fine.” He was talking, but she still couldn’t see anyone watching her. She was frantically thinking, where is he? “Well?” She said, stepping away from the door and taking small steps down the street, “what next?” “You’ll keep walking until I say to stop.” He said, “Keep your hands away from that cunt of yours, and keep your head up. Don’t try anything.” What did he think she was going to try? Trish pulled her hands up, crossing her arms across her chest just under her black top. She did just as she was told. She walked along the side of the street, her eyes scanning back and forth for any sign of the enemy. She only recently came to know about her stand, Spice Girl. The power of it was incredible, but she was also unsure of its limitations. Making anything soft and elastic couldn’t help her take out another stand, which could defend against those attacks. Unless, the stand couldn’t defend itself for some reason. The pain was growing too intense, and Trish felt another wave coming on. For a moment she was afraid it was the end. She took a stuttering step forward, her hand first going to her groin before she remembered the stand user’s command. So instead her hand shot out, and ran into a man walking past her. “Are you okay?” The young man said as he put a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her knees were wobbling, and she could feel her pelvic muscles pulsing as if they would fail at any moment. Tears welled up in her eyes, but she blinked them away. She refused to give this creep the pleasure. “Get rid of him!” The stand user shouted in a disembodied voice, “Or you lose, all over the street, kekeke.” She felt a strange sensation below her waist, then realized what it was. Iron Maiden was tightening around her. It was slight and almost impossible to notice. With all the pressure there, she noticed every centimeter of room lost! “Get away from me!” Trish shouted as she slapped the man away. She forced herself to stand, despite the drops of sweat on her face and the wobble in her legs. The man took a step to the side, his eyes wide with surprise. “Fine, crazy bitch!” He walked away, and Trish continued her walk with hastily constructed confidence. “Good, good,” The stand user said, “You look like you’re reaching your limit. Should I push you over the edge? Sounds like fun, and Iron Maiden does love a good… hmph, nevermind.” Was he planning to just make her walk until she could no longer hold it all in? He really was a monster, lower than any animal or man! If only Bucciarti was here. He would have some way to solve all of this. But while alone, she was going to have to come up with a solution herself. And one presented itself. Trish was at her limit, she knew that much. But she couldn’t see the stand user, which meant that he was probably at some remote location observing her. He wanted her on the street so that wherever he was, he could watch her and see what she did. She couldn’t talk to people or touch anyone because he wouldn’t know everything that was happening. While he could talk to her over a distance, it was possible his Iron Maiden didn’t know more than the fact that she was wearing it. That meant she had a chance, if she could get out of sight even temporarily. An alley between two shops was up ahead, just a few steps away. Trish kept walking as normally as she could manage while she was mere seconds away from unleashing a waterfall down her legs for all of Sardinia to see. She kept walking, keeping an eye out for any sign of her assailant. There was still no one, her plan could work if she could just execute it fast enough. “I don’t understand what you want,” Trish said in a low voice, “I just wanted to buy some new panties, I don’t deserve any of-” She cut herself short. She was right beside the alley. It had a large barrel in it, and some boxes. Perfect cover for what she needed to do. She ran, not an action she took lightly. Her bladder immediately rebelled at the action, but if this went right she would be free in mere moments! “Spice Girl!” She said as she vanished into the alley. “What are you doing you dumb bimbo!” He shouted. Trish had a plan, and it wasn’t dumb. A thought occurred to her as she tried to put a plan together. Iron Maiden wasn’t just a stand. Stands were less than physical, though they were capable of influencing the physical world. To people without stands, they were invisible. But Iron Maiden was real, a physical object. The stand seemed to either be in the shape of, or inhabiting, a pair of black panties. Which gave Trish the idea that Spice Girl could affect it. If that was true, then Spice Girl could make the panties soft enough for her to slip out of. Then she could find relief behind the boxes in the alleyway! Spice Girl appeared as she called, and Trish pulled her skirt aside. The pink-gold stand pulled its hand back and went to strike at the waistband of Iron Maiden. It threw out a series of attacks, but just before the first strike landed Trish could feel a difference from the panties. Her stand hit her waist and Trish let out a desperate squeal. Reverberations went through her lower body, as if her insides were temporarily becoming gelatin. She stopped in place, her legs no longer willing to move. The built up urine inside of her sloshed around as she felt all of her muscles weaken at once. “You absolute moron!” The man shouted, “Did you think that would work?” Trish felt a hot jet leave her, and her knees clasped together. “No, no, no,” she whispered to herself. Spice Girl looked on with an expression between determination and confusion. She didn’t know why her plan didn’t work. “Iron Maiden can turn any attack on itself back onto the wearer!” Another hiss of urine escaped before she cut it off. It was a tiny leak, but her face flushed with the shame of what happened. She could barely move. It was everything she could do not to release the torrent trapped inside her. “But you’re a stand user huh? You know what that means?” The enemy stand user said, “That means you have to do what I say, or I’m going to have the worst kind of fun with you.” Trish shoved her hands between her legs. There was still a chance she could stop this. It was just a tiny leak. Maybe that was all she needed to hold out, that little release of pressure. “Walk back to the street!” Trish shook her head, “No! I won’t!” “Do it now! Or this gets much worse for you, kekeke.” She needed a new plan, or she was never going to get out of Iron Maiden. For the moment, she had to play along. He knew she was a stand user now. If he was Passione, then it was only a matter of time until he realized she was with Bucciarti. So she took a small step back toward the street. One at a time, she made her way back to the streets of people ignorant to the battle happening both within Trish and around her. Her hope that the pressure would recede was foolish. Even as she put one foot in front of the other, she could feel a new wave mounting. Her legs weren’t moist yet, so the gusset of the cursed black panties had to be absorbing everything so far. But if she leaked again, it would slip down those long legs of hers. She knew it, and there would be no hiding it. She got to the street. Her head was down as she concentrated on the impossible task of keeping so much water away from the small hole it wanted to escape from. “What now?” She growled, “You creep!” “Say cheese,” said a man on the street with a raspy voice. Trish looked up in surprise. There was a man there wearing a hooded brown jacket with edges shaved into jagged cuffs with yellow-gold trim. His pants were an ugly off-green. His hair was disheveled and green, but swept off to one side. But what shocked Trish more was the camera in his hand. It looked professional, with a long zoom lens, pointed right at her. He was going to film her humiliation! That couldn’t happen! Trish went to turn, but she was too far along. The mere act of moving, of trying to turn, send another pulsing pain through her bladder and made it convulse. “Ah!” Trish gasped as she felt a long spray escape her. It was audible to her, and she wondered if the couple walking behind her could hear it as well. “No.” The man with the camera grinned and snapped a shot. “No!” Trish screamed. But her muscles were weak, her legs trembled. Spice Girl manifested and charged forward to strike, then froze in mid-air as a loud hissing emanated from Trish. She blinked away tears, and her knees shifted away from each other by instinct alone. Another hiss began, and this one didn’t stop. She was pissing herself, like a child. There was no denying it, and no stopping it. The relief made her lip tremble, and her body refused to move until the deed was complete. She could feel the panties clinging to her as her weakened hole released more and more into her underwear. People were stopping on the street now, looking at her as she stood in an awkward half-squat with her leg exposed by the long slit of her skirt. She could hear a pattering sound on the brick street below her. It didn’t sound like enough for how much she was releasing, the endless sizzling torrent of her voiding bladder, but it was enough to make sure everyone knew that Trish Una wasn’t potty trained. The camera snapped again, and again, and the tears Trish fought back earlier fell freely now. “Does it feel good?” The man said through his stand, the voice in her head, “Don’t worry, you can piss for days into Iron Maiden. It will drink up almost all of it, almost.” The trickling down her legs grew louder as Trish closed her eyes in a last attempt to escape the people gossiping and pointing at her. The relief was immense, her weakened muscles between her shapely legs feeling more sensitive than ever. Her knee twitched as she felt the last bits of pee flowing out of her and onto the street. “Delicious, exquisite, beautiful!” Trish fell to her knees and sobbed there in the street. “I’m going to have a lot more fun with you.” The stand user said, “I am Amaro Grappa, and you are mine now, little stand user.” Trish growled and looked up. Spice Girl manifested again and charged, but the man with the camera was gone. There was just a street of people gawking at her and the puddle she was kneeling in. She got to her feet and ran back into the alley on weak knees. She had to find this Amaro Grappa and get herself free, and before he divulged anything to Passione!
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