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Found 3 results

  1. © https://www.pixiv.net/artworks/89534900

  2. Hi! This is a story based on a drawing I saw on Reddit, although I don’t know the author, or exactly what it was based on. The user who posted it said, “I think the picture is based on the anime 'maria-sama ga miteru' their names from left to right are mizuno yoku, ogasawara sachiko and fukusawa yumi“ I completely ignored the names for this story, but Suzan would be Mizuno, Jane would be Ogasawara, and Lily would be Fukusawa (who is Jane’s sister, though somewhat optionally). [the events of this picture have not yet occurred in the story. They happen near the end. See the picture later] Skip to the story if you don’t need context. Suzan is the lady of this house, and is an inventor. She has a laboratory down in the finished basement. Jane and her little sister (or just companion) Lily work for her as maids, and the three are good friends. One day, Suzan is working on something, and ends up testing it on Jane. The end result is that Jane’s body is self-hydrating, and particularly her kidneys are super producing urine at an increasing rate. Thankfully, the effects do not inherently hurt Jane’s body at all, but they are inconvenient nonetheless for obvious reasons. Suzan feels deeply guilty, and immediately sets to work on an antidote for this new effect. While that is in the works, she quickly develops a “comfort model” diaper to help alleviate some of the inconvenience for the time being. As a safety measure she hopes she doesn’t need, Jane goes to bed in such a diaper, as Suzan continues work on the antidote. === BEGIN STORY === Jane woke up with a full bladder, but equally full nappy. “This is getting ridiculous,” she thought, as she struggled out of bed. As she did so, she noticed that majority of the pee in the diaper was still warm, and at first she though with alarm that this meant she must have wet within the past couple of minutes, and was already desperate again. But then she remembered, “Oh, right. ‘Comfort model.’” As Suzan had hoped and promised, the extra warmth retaining properties (and other features) she had engineered into the special diaper did indeed make it more comfortable after being pissed in, though an unexpected side effect was the loss of a subliminal sense of time since whenever Jane had peed herself. It quite literally felt as if she was perpetually just having wetted. Even so, she endured until after she had dressed herself, after she had washed her face, after the diaper was thrown away, and after she had dried the pee off her skin, before she finally treated herself to blissful relief on the porcelain. After all, she wasn’t the kind to put pleasure before duty, and while Jane of course normally liked weeing as much as the next maidservant, with the condition she was in, this was definitely in the pleasure category. She moaned helplessly as she quickly began pissing quite hard, ringing melodically against the toilet bowl, without letting up for about a minute and ten seconds. The last twenty seconds after that were slower, though, and she was able to regain some of her composure before she finished. With the business done, she got up to start her morning duties. It wasn’t too long into starting breakfast, however, that she realized she had forgotten to put on any panties. Oh, well. Meanwhile, six slices of bacon and six eggs were soon frying, and her bladder was soon feeling in want of a wee. “Come on,” she thought to herself, “it’s barely been ten minutes, and I already need to pee again.” “I’m done setting the table!” Lilly interrupted Jane’s thoughts. Then she noticed Jane’s legs crossing. “Um… Do you want to pee?” As a matter of fact, blankin’ right she wanted to pee. She wasn’t about to admit that in front of Lilly, though. Lilly had tended to overdramatize things in Jane’s opinion. She uncrossed her legs, and said casually, “Well, a little, but I can hold it.” This statement was about half true, and might’ve been entirely true normally, but considering the current state Jane was in, the idea that the urge would remain “a little” for long was highly optimistic. “Okay. Just be ready in case of an emergency, alright?” “Alright,” Jane answered, feeling Lilly was acting a bit silly. She wasn’t about to have an accident like a three-year-old. The condition was mostly… annoying, that was it, annoying. She didn’t need babying from her sister. She pressed her legs together again. This was particularly annoying. Jane put the eggs and bacon into serving dishes, and Lilly brought them to the table while Jane went to wake up Suzan. She resisted the temptation to scissor walk up the stairs to Suzan’s bedroom, but mostly because it would either drastically slow her down or make it very hard to balance. The urge to pee was becoming very strong indeed. Arriving at Suzan’s bedroom, she knocked gently on the door. “Suzan?” Nothing. She opened it a bit, and called again. “Suzan?” Still nothing, so she stepped inside. The bed was empty. “Oh, of course,” Jane sighed, and went back down the stairs (!), to the basement made laboratory door, and peeked in. There was Suzan, wearing her lab coat over her evening dress from the night before, slumped over the table. “Suzan?” Jane whispered loudly, but to no avail. She had hoped she wouldn’t have to descend yet another flight of stairs, but descend she did, and gently shook Suzan awake. “Ooh, what time is it?” The lady of the house said slowly. “It’s, uh, 7:24, in the morning. Breakfast is ready,” Jane answered, now standing firmly on one foot. Suzan glanced at the items scattered around her workspace. “Oh, good. I wasn’t dreaming that part. Well, there’s still more to do, but… *yawn* …I think I finally have a cure in the works for, um, what I did to you yesterday.” She glanced nervously at Jane’s bladder. “I’m really sorry about that. It m-must have been horribly inconvenient…” Suzan was not one to get emotional, but it had been one of her first human tests, and ironically what had caused the problem was the antidote to the initial experiment. She had tested it on Guinea pigs first, of course, but then who expects a Guinea pig to moderate where and when it pees? “Suzan,” Jane looked her straight in the eye, “it’s all right. I’ll be fine! You did the best you could. I forgive you.” “*Sniff* Thank you,” Suzan answered, and the two embraced. “Jane? Suzan? If you don’t come soon, the eggs are going to get cold!” Lily called from the kitchen. Suzan hung up her lab coat, quickly rinsed her face (which Jane was not quick enough to avoid witnessing, to her dismay. Why did laboratory sinks have to sound so tinkly when water splashed in them?), and the two headed upstairs. Sitting down at the table, Jane really was in a desperate state. She was now very much aware that she wasn’t wearing any panties, and the non-water-retaining cushion on her chair (Suzan’s work, and one of her favorite inventions so far) seemed to be begging her, “Piss me, piss me wet soaked with piss, please! It won’t hurt a thing.” She couldn’t argue. Everything in the house that wasn’t absolutely separate from the laboratory had been spill-proofed, including the composite floor. She could probably piss a few bushels before it would hurt anything, if not more. Bad time to think of that. A small spurt escaped onto the cushion. Her bladder had hit maximum, and Jane was losing control, fast. “No!” she thought, “I will go to the b… place on my own time. I’m finishing breakfast first.” Thankfully, she only had two bites of eggs left. One bite, one half… Done. She picked up her dishes as a pretense. Even now, she didn’t want to admit a loss of control, although one was undeniably looming. “*Swallow* I, uh, I’ll go w-wash this up in the kitche-AAAAH, AHH!” At the mention and thought of the warm, soapy water on her hands, Jane’s sphincter quite emphatically decided that it had had enough. She began pissing hard, and fell helplessly back into the turned-away chair, dropping the plate and spoon onto the floor (thankfully, the plate did not break). She tried to stop the flow, and even to get up and run to the bathroom, but her bladder was too exhausted to cooperate. Suzan immediately got up to help her, but quickly realized there was not much she could do. So instead, she took Jane’s hand, and began to comfort her, “It’s okay, Jane, it’s okay. Don’t hurt yourself. You did a good job. Just let it all fly away. It won’t hurt the floor. Just let yourself pee.” For about two seconds, Jane debated as to wether she should follow Suzan’s advice: It was so counterintuitive. But, Suzan was probably correct, and she was the lady of the house, so Jane relaxed. Almost immediately, her peeing became extremely pleasurable. She was peeing harder and harder, more than she ever had before in her life. She was blushing, panting, and moaning from the sensation. She was still holding weakly onto Suzan’s hand for some reason, a seeming last touch with familiar reality as her urethra was taking her round the moon and back. Suzan wasn’t sure what Jane’s various exclamatory sounds meant, so she asked, “Are you okay?” Jane threw her head back, and moaned, “Yeeeees…!” Susan blushed herself, and hunched a bit from happy embarrassment. At least something good was coming of the accident yesterday. Jane went back to observing her stream, and the puddle she was making. It was hardly believable! [picture occurs here] Meanwhile, Lily had also gotten up to comfort Jane, but, like Suzan, was now staring in amazement as Jane continued to power piss, far surpassing what her bladder could’ve possibly been carrying to start with. Although it seemed like stream would eventually be proven finite, Jane certainly wasn’t going to be done any time soon, and she didn’t want to be done yet, either.
  3. This is a several part work I have been toying around with for some time now, I decided to finally sit down and start writing it. and without further ado Maid to order Chapter 1: Interview Fiona Salasbar arrived at the mansion that would be her place of residence and employment for the next 3 months Her parents had arranged it all, it was training for a career in business that her parents had her slated for, Fiona was a bright girl who lacked confidence, shy, easily startled, and a little bit more accident-prone than the average 16-year-old girl. This opportunity was the product of a chance encounter between her father and the wealthy entrepreneur that had occurred over ten years ago just before she was born where her father had saved a stranger on the street from being fatally crushed by a falling piano by tackling him. Both her father and the man were unscathed. Her father told her how he had originally been fearful that the well to do individual would sue him or attempt to press charges for assault or some similar crime as was all too common at the time. Instead, the man offered her father a lucrative job and had become Fiona's godfather. The man her father had saved was Jhon Hawthorne a successful entrepreneur with a wide range of connections in the business world. The place of her employment was the Hawthorne estate, The residence of John Hawthorne, and one of his side businesses, a training program for turning young women into invaluable Managers and Personal assistants. His curriculum instilled aspiring young women with discipline, confidence, and a unique brand of professionalism that was sought after in the upper echelons of the business world. Fiona Sat in the office of the man her parents had told her so much about, they admonished her repeatedly telling her the story over and over again stressing that she was to be polite, express her gratefulness and mind her manners in front of the man before her, the man named john hawthorn who had given their family almost all they currently had. Fiona was in some of her nicest informal clothes, a checkered skirt that stopped just above the knee and a peach-colored blouse. Fiona felt her heart fluttering, and her throat was dry on the ride there, without realizing it she had consumed a full three bottles of water. Fiona's first task at the Hawthorne estate was a mock interview, The result was irrelevant but Fiona would experience several such interviews over the course of her stay, it served to measure her progress as time went on “Have a seat, Fiona right, You should be Andrew’s Daughter, Even if I am your godfather I won’t treat you any different from the other students ” Fiona felt her heart in her throat, if someone looked closely, they could see her knees trembling slightly as a small unnoticeable drop of amber liquid ran down her leg something Fiona herself was unaware of The man had sharp almost carved features dark hair and deep, piercing, amber eyes. His voice was gentle but carried a strong almost soothing baritone. The study where the interview took place was immaculate and neatly arrange, The desk made of an ornately carved and stained wood of a dark and rich brown, its lacquer perfectly maintained. On it was a small 30-second hourglass made from silver and oak. The man, Jhon Hawthorne remained seated a comfortable looking leather chair just as perfect as the desk, not a stitch out of Place An ornate rug adorned the hardwood floor, and in front of the fine wooden desk was a small white linen-covered chair Fiona sat down as few more golden drops exited her She was far too preoccupied with her own nervousness to be aware of her desperation and unconscious voiding “Let us begin with introductions, Jhon Hawthorne” “F-Fiona Salasbar” She spoke and extended her hand to meet his, The hand was rough, and callused, his handshake was firm but not uncomfortable. “well Fiona, you’ve already made two mistakes, grip firmly, not feebly, and speak from the diaphragm you are a woman, not a mouse” Fiona felt her cheeks heat up, she gripped man's hand more tightly while Clenching her legs unconsciously on reflex, giving a small shake before releasing her grip. “What are your Skills” Sansa’s mind went blank and she suddenly became aware of her need to visit the restroom “I um, I, Bathroom” Sansa got up from the chair and took a few shaking steps toward the door shaking like a leaf, dribbles, and spurts of urine running down her legs, her underwear had long since reached the point of saturation as the liquid ran down her legs past her skirt. Fiona left a pair of obvious trails behind her as she struggled to get to the door with slow almost uncertain steps. Jhon Hawthorne watched with a deadpan look but in his eyes a faint light of something approaching amusement could be seen, as the girl before him had yet to ask for the location of the bathroom and was clearly unable to make the trip, the chair that she had been seated at had a record-sized yellow stain and the rug might already be ruined. “Terra Could you show our new trainee the facilities” “Of course master” With both the request and the reply a strong spurt of urine shot down Fiona's legs, Terra a large woman in a French maid outfit guided the leaking Fiona down the hall by the elbow “Oh and make sure to provide her with any accommodations you see fit” “Certainly Master, Leave it to me”
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