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View File Pookie (9 files) 9 files of Pookie from DiaperedOnline. Submitter Little1992 Submitted 03/18/2020 Category Female  

My love of cartoon girls continues with Go Go from Big Hero 6. Another pretty simple and short story, I hope to get a longer one done here soon. Warning for messing, Hope you like it. Also any feedback is appreciated. The city of San Fransokyo was always alive at night. Neon lights lit up the sky, almost giving the illusion of the sun. The streets were crowded with people, shopping, eating or just simply having a night out. On the surface, the city seemed to be a radiant place for fun and entertainment, but below the surface, it was a completely different story. San Fransokyo had a huge crime problem. It wasn't just simple robberies and stick ups, it was deeper and worse than that. Gangs controlled the back alleys, hosting illegal robot fights and betting dirty money. Some criminals even rose above that, taking on supervillain status and terrorizing the good people of the city far beyond any organized crime. However not everyone who lurked in the shadows at night had ill intentions for the innocent. One of those good people was Go Go Tomago. While most women her age were out shopping or giggling about boys, Go Go was zooming through the back alleys of the city looking for trouble. Go Go was one of the city's few superheroines. Though she detested the title, she certainly looked the part. Even though she was short she had a strong, physical figure and a vulopuish rear. She wore a skintight black bodysuit with red lining which really showed off how powerful her lower half was. To top it off she had shiny yellow armor protecting her chest and arms, all sleek to make her more aerodynamic. She also wore a helmet made of the same material, with a tinted visor to hide her identity. What topped her whole outfit off was what made her a superheroine. Connected to her metal boots was a set of magnetic discs which allowed her to speed through the city as if she was on rocket power rollerblades. She also had a second set attached to her arms that she would toss like frisbees or use a shield from attackers. And Go Go was looking to use this suit, which while some of it was her own invention,was mostly created by the young super genius, Hiro Hamada. Normally she would fight alongside this genius and four of her friends to form the team known as Big Hero 6. Go Go however felt she was a cut above the rest of her teammates, not that she would tell them that, and loved to go out and patrol the city on her own. Speeding through her city, Go Go looked in every corner, looking for some goon to take down. She had already thwarted a few purse thieves and one car jacking, but Go Go wanted to stop something a little more challenging. It wasn’t that fun to just sock someone in the chin and call it a day, no matter how good it felt. Plus, anyone could stop petty crime, and Go Go wasn't just anybody. Just as she was about to call it quits and head home, the heroine heard the distinct sound of glass breaking coming from a warehouse she had just zipped by moments ago. Now, the sound of glass breaking didn’t necessarily mean a breaking and entering was occuring, but in Go Go’s experience, nine times out of ten, it did. She slowed down and turned right around, making a beeline for the warehouse. As she came back up on the large metal building, she saw a white van that she missed before, pulled up to the side of the building. Go Go smirked a little beneath her helmet. It looked like she was finally gonna get her wish. She slowly began circling the warehouse, trying to find the intruders point of entrance. At first, she couldn’t locate any windows on the building, but on her third time around, she looked up at the roof, and the extended fire exit leading up to it. She climbed up to the roof, and her suspicions were confirmed, one of the many glass panels used to light in the warehouse during the day, was smashed open, with a rope leading down into the building. Before she could even look down the shattered ceiling, she heard something else. The sound of one the docking bay doors being opened, followed by the sound of a car coming to life. Go Go zipped back to the edge of the building, seeing the white van driving around to the front and pulled into one of the docks below. “Dang it.” She mumbled under her breath. “Too slow.” She quickly made her way back down the fire escape, and slowly rolled her way over to the open loading dock, careful to try and stay out of sight. As she peered into the warehouse, she could see three goons, wearing black ski masks over their faces. Two of them were opening up crates with crowbars and the other was lifting goods into the back of their van. Go Go grinned to the goons. This wasn’t going to be the challenge she was hopping for, but she still could belive how stupid these guys where acting. The heroine stretched her legs a bit and then zoomed into action. First she shot toward the goon caring goods, and knocked him off his feet with a swift kick to the legs. He smashed into the floor, with all that he was caring smashing into him, making a loud crash ring through the warehouse. The other two goons quickly turned to see what happened only for their faces to be met with yellow spinning discs, knocking a few teeth out before they fell to the ground with a groan. Go Go snickered as one of the two goons tried to stand up, reaching for his crowbar. She swiftly threw another one of her disks at the man's hand, striking it with a lough crack. The goon shouted out in pain, and grabbed his now broken wrist, trying to sooth the pain. “Stop whining, and woman up.” Go Go taunted the man. “You wimps never stood a chance against me. You think someone wouldn’t notice you?” To Go Go’s surprise, the man actually let out a chuckle. “Look who's talking, dumbass. You think we didn’t notice your fatass circle this building over and over just to find an entrance point?” “W-What!?” Go Go stammered as she took a step back. “Then why did you stay? You’re clearly outmatched, you could have just left and avoided me kicking your butt!” “Because we called for backup, you cocky bitch.” Shouted the man, who now smiled with glee. Almost as if on cue, Go Go heard the sound of cars pulling up with screech. She turned only two be momentarily blinded by two pairs of headlights, coming from two new vans. The back of each van popped open and more masked goons came out, but this time, they all looked ready for a fight. Some of them had metal pipes, others ignited their stun sticks, electric energy sparking off them. Soon Go Go found herself surrounded by at least a dozen fresh thugs. “Y-You think you can take me!?” Gogo ready herself into a fighting position. “I’m not scared of you! Bring it!” The goons grinned at the comment and moved in. Go Go dodged a flurry of bats and pipes, unable to retaliate. One of the goons lunged at her with his stun stick and jabbed her in the abdomen with it. An electric surge shot through her body and Go Go let out a piercing shriek. She stumbled back and then, so taken back from the electric shock, took a swing from a lead pipe across her head, then a crack of a bat across her chest and then a fist right back into her abdomen. Despite taking all these hits, Go Go was still able to stay standing, mostly due to her armor, but also due to her own personal training and will power. But Go Go didn’t have time to admire her own will power any more, as she immediately was stuck again. A metal back smashed across her helmet, destroying her visor, revealing her face and knocking her into the cold concrete floor. Go Go felt something she hadn't felt in a long time, she felt terrified. As she laid prone on the ground she couldn't find the will to get back up. Though she didn't want to admit it she was clearly in over her head. As the goons approached her she could feel her whole body shaking in fear. “P-please! Stop! ! Y-you beat me, alright! I-I-I won’t tell anyone I promise! Just let me go!” Go Go pleaded, raising her trembling hands up in defence of any oncoming attacks. Before the men could even respond to her pleas they could help from breaking out into laughter. At first Go Go was confused but then she felt it. A wet warm sensation started to spread around Go go’s rear and as the young woman looked down she saw her tight black spandex suit beginning to turn a darker shade of black. The black haired woman tried to stop herself but it was already too late. Her urine had already soaked her skimpy panties and was even flooding out of her tights. Go Go’s eyes began to swell up with tears as she saw a large yellow puddle growing from beneath her. Go Go’s cheeks burned a crimson red. She tried to say something or even just move but her body was overwhelmed with the feelings of humiliation and terror. She hadn't wet herself in years and now her bladder just gave up all due to some lowly crooks. Go Go wanted nothing more than to just disappear or run but that wasn’t going to be an option for her. Once the goons stopped laughing hysterically at Go Go’s pathetic bodily reaction they proceeded to close in around her. “You talked all that shit but this is who really are, isn't it?” sneered one of the goons she initially beat, holding a crowbar in his grip with malice intent. “Just a little girl soaking yourself with your own piss. Well you’re right about one thing, you’re not gonna tell anybody about what you saw tonight” The man raised his bar up with a smirk, grinning down at the shaking woman. Instinctively Go Go’s body, terrified, tried to urinate more, there was none left in her. Instead her body let out loud gassy noise as she rolled out of the way of the bat, just barely dodging the strike, landing on all fours. Altered by the humiliating noise her rear just made, Go Go tried to control herself this time, clenching her cheeks as hard as she could trying to avoid further humiliation, but her body had different plans for her. Within seconds a rather large log of waste slid its way into the women's pants, tenting her spandex in a painfully obvious way. Another wave of laughter erupted from the goons. At this moment, Go Go was fully bawling, unable to fully comprehend the mix of fear and humiliation she was experiencing, which was only made worse as another log of crap pushed itself into her suit with little resistance. Slowly she turned her spandex clad rear brown and lumpy with waste, as each log that came out slowly pressed together into a large enough mess to cover nearly every inch of her already large bottom. “Did you really just shit yourself? Jeez, lady, maybe it’s you who needs to woman up.” The goon waved his hand in front of his nose. “And what the hell are you eating? This is disgusting.” The man poked her rear with his crowbar, pushing her growing mess down her thigh. “I think it’s time to finally end this masquerade of heroism.” The man aimed his weapon at Go Go's head and wound up his swing. Go Go tried to prepare to dodge but the large amount of crap set her off balance and she simply ended up landing on her butt, causing more discomfort and humiliation. All she could do was let out a shriek of terror. But before the swing could connect the sound of sirens filled the warehouse and the walls began to flash red and blue. “Shit! It's the cops, let's go!” Shouted one of the men loudly as the rest cursed in unison all, of them making a break for their vehicles. Within seconds the pathetic smelly heroine went from the thug's top priority to the last thing on their minds. They moved so quickly Go Go barely had time to take it all in, but she knew she had an opening. She had already humiliated herself in front of a dozen goons.The last thing she needed was for the law enforcement to question her with pants full of crap and urine dripping down her leg. Go Go forced herself to stop crying long enough to make sure her blades were intact enough to move and quickly rolled out of the warehouse, blasting past a few surprised police officers as she went. She could only hope they didn't make a connection between her and the large urine puddle in their investigation. Keeping to the darkest alleyways she could, the young heroine tried to keep away from public view as she knew her mess and stain would be impossible to hide. As she sped her way to her apartment, she could feel the mushy legs of crap slowly slide down her leg with every moment. The feeling was embarrassing. It was hard for her not to break out in tears again. She didn't even know where to begin with what just happened to her. It all felt surreal, like some sort of twisted nightmare. She had never felt so pathetic, so powerless in her life, but here she was. Maybe the worst part about it was just how damaged her suit was. It was far beyond her fixing capabilities, but she couldn't take her shit stained spandex to its young creator for repairs and keep what little pride she had left. But that was an issue for tomorrow. Right now, Go Go needed a shower. A long hot shower.

I don’t even think I can begin talking about how long this has been in the works. Six months? Seven? It’s taken so much work that I even took a break several times to write other stories, but finally it’s done. I had this brief period where I REALLY wanted to write about two girls exploring a destroyed world from the safety of an old military tank and this was the final result. I do have a Ko-Fi if you like my stories and wish to support me: https://ko-fi.com/callumdoesathing _______________________________________________________________ Two Girls And Their Tank: A Beast In The Woods “... and that was another fine arrangement by the Miriam String Quartet.” Over a hiss of static, Buck Allworth saw off the last song with a few kind words of gratitude for the person who had sent in the old vinyl. “From the Pipeworks, to Hawkland, all the way to Sieger’s Settlement, I’m Buck Allworth and this is Archived Radio.” He spoke softly, with a kind voice that harkened back to the old days - back to the days when families could gather around the radio in the comfort of their own homes and bask in the enchanting music of the big bands. “Next up, we have Booker White’s Moonlight Band singing ‘And I’m a sucker for you.’” “Ooh~” Annie crooned, sweeping her frizzy locks from her eyes and taking another bite of her sandwich. She sat like a child, legs crossed and a bottle of fizzing soda in her hand, tapping the glass in rhythm to the music. When the music started, it was like being wrapped up in a whimsical world; Annie leant back, closed her eyes and let the music of yesteryear wash over her. All Annie had experienced in her lifetime was the melancholy strum of a guitar or the quiet, but sombre sounds of a violin. The music of the roadside settlements was depressing, as quiet and miserable as the world that surrounds them. But when she tuned into Archive radio, hosted by the soft-spoken Buck Allworth, she could close her eyes and let herself get lost in the grand old tunes of yesteryear. She liked to imagine that she was back in time, standing among a crowd of men and women, the elite of the former world, the people who dressed the best and knew how to have a good time. They’d be ready for a night on the town, wearing black freshly pressed suits with matching ties and the women in their long flowing gowns that hide their white sparkling shoes beneath their long elegant flow, just like the old magazines showed her. She’d be lost in a haze of cigarette smoke, the smell of freshly lit cigars and expensive brandy clouding her nostrils. There’d be sounds of chatter, gossip and laughter all set against the tremendous music of a large brass band. “I’d be dressed for such an event too.” Annie sighed, her heart fluttered as she lost herself in her thoughts. She wrapped a strand of her long curly hair around her finger, imagining herself with long straight hair. “What kind of do would I have? A ponytail maybe?” She rubbed her thumb against her finger, trapping the lock of hair between them. “Or maybe long and straight like when I was a little girl.” “Annie!” There was a shrill scream, like that of a girl who had been waiting for far too long. “Annie! Get your head out of your arse!” It was Piper, who was glaring up at her with a subtle look of anger, but with Piper she never did anything subtly. She put her hands on her hips and leant in, bringing her stern gaze closer to Annie. Her shrill yells were enough to whisk Annie away from her yesteryear fantasies. She watched it all burn away before her eyes; the tall golden columns around her shifted and shaped into rows of tall, dead trees that she saw everyday on the roadside, devoid of colour, scorched and crumbling before her eyes. The carpeted red floor that she strolled across elegantly was warm, and growing warmer. It cracked and tore apart, revealing a spanning landscape of depressing grey tarmac. And the large brass she imagined central at the front of the hall disappeared in a puff of smoke, and the magical music they composed was nothing more than the sound of an old vinyl over the crackling radio. Once again, Annie found herself sitting on the steel frame of their tank, a half-eaten sandwich on her lap and an empty bottle of Freckleman’s soda. “S-Sorry Piper.” She glanced with sorrowful eyes at her comrade below her, feeling the impatience burning through those fiery eyes. “W-What do you need?” Piper huffed, swept back her black hair and climbed up onto the tank. “I needed the crowbar. I tried yelling at you, but you were off in your head again so I came back to get it myself.” She shook her head, swept her hair back again and climbed down into the tank’s compartment. Annie stood up, scratched her numb arse until she could feel her cheeks again, and scoffed down the last half of her sandwich. “Do you need a hand finding it?” She called down to Piper, spewing crumbs onto the tank. “Nope, I’ll be fine.” Piper’s voice echoed back. “Ah, here it is! Heads up!” A loud metallic clang rattled Annie’s attention, causing her to jump. She swung herself around and saw the crowbar lying on the ground. It landed with such force it shattered the tarmac around where it had landed. Piper re-emerged from the compartment, stretched her arms, and hopped down from the frame. She picked up the crowbar, gave it a few swings and once she was satisfied, swung it over her shoulder. “There we go, this should bust the lock.” She said with a smile. Piper walked off along the forecourt and around the side of the old building - Wellington Gas & Services was the name of the store - An old service station from the time of yesteryear, now boarded up and barricaded, left to rot in the scorched countryside. Piper, the older of the two girls, had once been a Tank Commander for the Hawkland Army, and her military past showed clearly in almost anything she did. She wore a dark green jumpsuit and black boots that were beginning to show their age. Her long dark brown hair was often worn in a simple ponytail so it wouldn’t cover her face. She was quite militant, with the steeled looks of an army commander. She rarely smiled and most of the time she would stare intently, her brows furrowed and her eyes scouting everywhere, always on the lookout for danger. Annie however, was nothing like her comrade. She was a civilian from an old oilworks settlement just outside of the Hawklands. She was an engineer for the pipelines and her past knowledge was what eventually led to her coming along with Piper, though rarely did she get to touch any of the delicate parts of the Tank. She dressed in a simple pair of denim overalls with a white tee and knickers beneath them. She had frizzy ginger hair that often curled and freckled cheeks that dotted her pale face, especially around her button nose. After about ten minutes, and some very loud banging, Piper emerged from behind the old shop, bringing with her a long black hose. “See, I told you there’d be some left.” She said proudly and dropped the hose behind the tank. “I never doubted it, Piper.” Annie rolled her eyes. Not once could she remember telling Piper that there wouldn't be any fuel left, yet Piper continued to act like she had proven her wrong. The tank would take some time to refuel, so the girls passed the time in their own way. Annie climbed atop the turret, made herself comfortable, and decided to read through a comic she’d found in a ruin sometime ago. It was an old comic - a story of a superhero from another world who had come to Earth. She sat with her back against the warm steel, her sleeves rolled up, reading through the action-packed pages and sipping on a bottle of cola. Piper, having brought her tools out from the main compartment, crawled under the tank and started to make some small repairs to the tank. She’d wrapped the top of her overalls around her waist, showing off her oil-stained vest and a teasing glance of her perky chest. She climbed down beneath the murky underbelly of the tank and with a flashlight clasped between her teeth and a spanner in hand she got to work tightening up the loose bolts. She took great care of her tank and she was always anxious that slogging the steel behemoth through the rough terrain was beginning to wear down the underbelly. Even the toughest tanks couldn’t handle the vile swamps and murkland that now polluted the world. She was minding her own business, struggling with a bolt that was stuck with mud, when she felt a niggle from her lower tummy. She grimaced at the feeling and put a hand atop her stomach. Finally, her morning coffee had settled and she needed to take a leak. Piper dropped the flashlight and sighed. It had been a while since she’d last done it. She and Annie had woken up, settled who got what rations over a game of rock-paper-scissors, and then took turns pissing into a dry well of mud before driving off down the road. However Piper was quite fond of drinking coffee while she drove. The caffeine kept her alert and she was really fond of the taste; The bitterness of dark coffee reminded her of the army. Usually, she would empty a whole flask of freshly made coffee before the afternoon and another in the evening. “It’s that time again.” Sighed Piper. She grabbed the bottom of the frame and pulled herself out from beneath the tank. The sun was blinding and she raised an arm to shield her eyes. “Is everything okay underneath?” Annie asked, peering over the pages of her comic book and revealing her deep blue eyes beneath a curtain of ginger hair. “Yep.” Piper replied plainly, uninterested in conversation. She untied her overalls, letting them fall around her boots and giving Annie a full view of her bare slender legs, glistening with sweat, and a pair of white knickers smudged with motor oil. “Keep an eye on the gas tank.” She ordered Annie, looking over her shoulder and casting a commanding glare in her comrades' direction. “Huh? Why? Where are you going?” Annie rested her comic book by her side and crawled to the rear of the tank. “Are you going to take a leak?” She tried asking, though as she lost herself in the dazzling view of Piper’s long bare legs, she had a feeling that she knew the answer. Piper slipped out of her overalls and chucked them atop the tank, landing them on the turret right beside Annie, and strutted off towards an old rusted out car. “Where do you think?” She yelled back at Annie without turning to her. Watching Piper walk off, Annie felt a familiar feeling burning within her. She felt her cheeks grow warm and her ladyhood quiver. She enjoyed when Piper did her business, often watching her during their breaks along the road; She’d sneak a sly peek from behind the tank while Piper was squatting. Seeing Piper hunkered down, with her cheeks spread and a long golden stream splattering noisily between her legs and onto the dry earth between her muddy boots. It made Annie shiver with a pleasurable, yet sinful quiver. With a sly smirk, Annie rolled over onto her stomach to get a fine view of Piper strutting bottomless across the forecourt. The white cotton of her knickers failed to contain the fine form of Piper’s well-endowed backside, the rear of her knickers were enveloped by her crack. Annie nursed the bottle of soda, letting the bubbles tickle her tongue, and lay on her tummy with her feet hanging in the air. She watched Piper go behind the rusted car, bending down beside the backseats to hide herself, but there were no doors on the car, meaning that from atop the tank, Annie got quite the pleasant view. “I wonder if it’s number one or number two.” Annie asked herself, remembering that Piper drank quite a bit of coffee this morning.. She got her answer soon enough as she watched a sputter of piss dribble from between Piper's thighs. She could tell Piper grunted, noticing her anus wince between her spread cheeks. “Hmm~” Annie sighed. Piper had an amazing butt, one that she could never get tired of staring at. Annie watched lewdly, her eyes fixed on Piper squatting behind the old car, a sinful smile on her face as that little sputter of piss blossomed into a long, pale stream. It fell, catching the sunlight and splattering against the dry tarmac, leaving a puddle. She enjoyed watching, though without Piper’s knowledge. There was something pleasurable about watching her friend relieve herself, something strange that made the soft spot between her thighs quiver with glee. She loved the way her stream rained between her legs, wetting her thighs as a few stray dribbles ran down her bare legs. The way her pale fluids hit the sunlight, sparkling. And of course, the very faint, but obvious sound of her piss striking the tarmac, a heavy splattering like rain hitting stone in the distance. Piper’s stream grew stronger, striking the concrete fiercely. She shuffled around, moving her boots to avoid them getting splattered. It didn’t work; her boots were getting doused by the smallest splatters of pee. Annie giggled to herself, delighted by the sight of Piper’s butt and the long pale stream running between her legs. She didn’t really understand why it was so pleasurable to watch Piper relieve herself, there was just something about it that made the soft spot between her thighs quiver whenever she mentioned it. Maybe it was just watching her stream rain from between her thighs, dampening her soft thighs with a few dribbles and the hefty splattering splashing against her butt. Maybe it was the way the sunlight hit her stream, giving it a distinct sparkle. Or maybe it was the faint, but obvious sound of her piss as it struck the dry ground, the sound resonating on the wind. Perhaps it was just the naughtiness of leering from a distance, deriving a quivering pleasure from spying on her comrade during this most personal moment for a girl. Suddenly, there was an overwhelming stink of gasoline in the air. Annie grimaced, her whole face twisting at the smell. It was vile, but she wasn’t going to let that stop her from enjoying this simplest of pleasures. There was only so much time she could enjoy it for and she wanted to make sure that she remembered every little detail of Piper’s little comfort break. Once she saw the last little splutter of pee dribble into the large puddle between Piper’s boots, Annie sat her soda down by her side and watched her dry off. Without any paper, Piper had no choice but to shake. She stood up, her knees bent, and jiggled her butt softly to shake off the last few drops. Annie rolled over onto her back and sighed. She was quivering, every inch of her body shuddered in delight. There was nothing better in her day than that lewd glance of Piper during her most private moment. She lay there in the sun, rubbing her thighs together and letting her perverted thoughts get the best of her. “Annie! Annie!” A girl kept calling to her. “ANNIE!” It took her a moment to realize that it was Piper calling for her, and she didn’t sound too pleased about being ignored. Annie rolled onto her belly, shaking her head to whisk herself away from her perverted thoughts. She could see Piper running toward the tank, her knickers barely covering up her slit which glistened with a dribble of pee between her lips. “ANNIE! HEAD OUT OF YOUR ARSE!” Piper screamed, injecting all of her fury into those words alone. Those words were enough for Annie to flinch. This time she knew Piper was serious. “Hmm? What? What’s up!?” She yelled back in confusion, struggling to put her thoughts together. The air was now reeking, thick with gasoline. Once her head was clear, she noticed the sound of something hissing too. “The pipe! You idiot!” Piper pointed frantically to the side of the tank. “I told you to watch the pipe while I went for a piss!” “The pipe?” Annie turned in the direction Piper was pointing and that’s when she saw exactly why Piper was so angry. “THE PIPE! SHIT!” Her whole face dropped in disbelief, she didn't have any more words. The nozzle Piper had hooked up to the Tank was spluttering, spitting out gasoline all over the forecourt and up the tank, washing it in thick viscous fuel. “There’s a kink in the line!” Piper yelled, pointing to a length of the pipe that was bulging, clogged by fuel that struggled to navigate the kink. "How did you not notice it!?" She was infuriated, seething even. She rushed up to the nozzle, planted her foot against the tank to steady herself and wrapped both hands around the nozzle. She heaved, putting all of her strength into pulling it from the fuel tank. The nozzle came loose, disconnecting with a metallic click. It gushed gasoline, the force being enough to push Piper back a few inches. She slammed her foot on the ground and grappled the flailing nozzle like she was fighting a large snake. It sprayed gasoline everywhere, showering the forecourt, the Tank and even Piper herself a little bit. She struggled to control the flailing pipe, and seeing Annie’s dumbward gaze like she’d been left paralyzed, she knew she was in this on her own. She was given no choice but to let go of the pipe. “Annie, get behind something now!” She yelled and at that moment, let go of it. Before it could hit the floor, Piper was already off. She sprinted behind the tank to shield herself from getting any wetter than she already was. Her shirt and trousers were already soaked by the nozzle sputtering fuel everywhere. They both watched from cover as the fuel sprayed everywhere. “All that gasoline being pissed away…” Piper frowned. Enough gasoline to get them at least another hundred miles now being wasted. It wasn’t long until everything went quiet. The hidden reserve ran dry and the pipe, finally tapped out, collapsed into the giant pool of gasoline it had created. The strong smell of gasoline pierced the air, overwhelming their senses. Now that the chaos was over, Annie hopped down from the tank and over to Piper. Now that everything had settled, she was up for helping. “Are you okay?” She asked. “You didn’t get soaked or anything, right?” “I’m fine… I’m fine.” Piper sighed. She looked up at her tank, frowning at the sight of wasted gasoline. There must’ve been enough there for another hundred miles, and now it was dripping down the side of the tank. Annie knew she’d messed up, but it felt worse when she saw Piper frown. “I’m sorry, Piper.” She apologized, looking down at her feet like a worried puppy, her face hidden by a frizzy curtain of ginger hair. Piper sighed and climbed up onto the tank. “It’s fine, Annie. I… I should’ve just done it myself.” She lifted the hatch leading into the compartment and sat down. “We have enough gas and the storm should wash off most of that.” She hopped down into the compartment. “Grab my overalls and let’s get going.” Annie walked through the pool of gasoline, her boots squelching against the ground. The way Piper handled that mishap was better than it had been before. Usually, she turned red, and her words were so heated she often worried she was going to spit fire. But this time, it didn’t feel right. She was calm, collected, without a single word to show her anger. Annie sighed, climbed up onto the tank and grabbed Piper’s overalls. Maybe she was just becoming more accepting of the disappointment. She took one last look at the afternoon sun, enjoying these final seconds before she’d be confined to the steel innards of the tank, and finally, after she’d had her fill, climbed down the ladder and slammed the hatch closed. She had gotten in just in time to see Piper changing into her spare clothes. Her overalls, splattered with gasoline, were balled up on the floor beside her footlocker. She had just pulled up her trousers and was buttoning the front when Annie got down the ladder. “Ready to get going?” Piper asked her, the tone in her voice still cold with frustration. It would ease up over time, but not while there was a gasoline-shaped hole in her heart. “I guess so.” Annie nodded. Piper, with Annie’s help, pulled the massive lever back to start the ignition. The engine sputtered to life and the sound of machinery grinding rang through the compartment. Piper ducked beneath the low ceiling separating the driver’s seat from the compartment and hopped into the seat. She took off the handbrake and with a violent jolt that lurched both girls forward, drove off down the road. Once again, the girls passed the time in their own way during their long journey. Piper enjoyed an old flask of coffee while she was driving. It helped her to concentrate. She sat alone in the driver’s seat with only the radio for company while she navigated the scorched roads. Every now and then she’d reach down for the thermos by her seat and take a sip of coffee. The taste was bitter and it had gone cold. Piper grimaced with every sip but it was all she needed to keep herself alert. “Good evening to all of you out there. This is the Evening Report, helping you to keep safe during these trying times. The current time is 6pm and we’ve got quite the storm ravaging the countryside.” The radio reporter, a soft well-spoken man, gave an update on the current happenings in the world and signed off, leaving his listeners to a night of music. The next song from a playlist of yesteryear crackled on the radio. A jazzier instrumental - those were often played during the evening. “Hey, Piper?” Annie called out from across the compartment. Over the roaring of the engine, Piper couldn’t hear her. She could hardly hear herself. “Piper!” She screamed. This time, Piper looked over her seat and nodded. She reached over her shoulder and turned the dial on the radio, lowering the volume and gave Annie another nod to let her know she could hear her. “Hey! What? What’s up?” “Do you mind if we take a short break? I’ve gotta go… you know?” Annie asked with a quiver of shame, her cheeks growing a searing hot red. She leant forward in her seat, straddling the rough leather and clicking her boots together. Piper sighed, showing her frustration as she ran a hand through her hair. She wasn’t one for unscheduled stops. She followed a strict regime that had been with her since her days with the army. Everything had to be done during one of their routine stops that she insisted they take once every few hours. It was like clockwork to her, a routine that gave her life some normality. However to Annie it was monotonous, repetitive and straining - they’d stop, eat whatever scraps they had salvaged that day and relieve their bladders by the tank while the other stood watch before continuing off down the road. But Piper became especially grouchy about unscheduled stops when either of them needed to answer nature’s call while on the road. Annie couldn’t help but feel a tad guilty when she saw that look of frustration on Piper’s face. They’d been driving for hours and Annie, after holding in three bottles of soda and a heavy lunch, felt she was reaching her limit… in both departments. She felt the peeking head of a curious brown turtle and for Annie that was enough for her to ask for a break so she could make a drop in the bushes. Piper pulled down the lever by her seat and both girls jolted forward as the tank came to a sudden stop. The gentle rattling beneath their feet ceased and the compartment grew still. She climbed onto her knees and looked over the back of her seat with an unamused look. “What’s it for?” She asked, glaring at Annie. “W-What do you mean what’s it for?” Annie answered with a defensive huff. “I just said… I’ve gotta go. That’s a good ‘nuff reason.” Piper sighed. “I mean number one or number two?” Her calm tone was cracking beneath impatience. Hearing such a question caught Annie with her knickers down. Metaphorically. Though she did wish to have them down soon. She’d never been asked something so personal by Piper. Even if she was taking a dump during their scheduled stop, Piper never once asked just what she needed to do. Such a question knocked her back like an explosion, causing her to spill over and land back in her chair. Blood rushed to her face and her pale freckled cheeks were left searing with embarrassment. “Why does that matter!?” She replied with a fiery voice. “If it’s number one then just go in the canteen.” Piper waved her hand in the direction of an old metal canteen among the junk in the compartment. “We need to get a move on and I don’t want to make any stops unless I really have to.” “I’d say this is important.” Annie protested, feeling her stomach grow heavy under the weight of her bowels. As they were talking the pudgy mud-like lump pushed itself against her knot, stopped only by Annie clenching her cheeks. It was getting bad. She’d completely forgotten that she was bursting for a piss too. The urges in her stomach were making themselves far more known than anything her bulging bladder could produce. With a shameful sigh, knowing that Piper wouldn’t give in unless she admitted it, Annie swallowed her shame and came forward. “It’s b-both.” She squeaked, averting her gaze from Piper’s inquisitive stare. Her answer was met with a furrowed brow. “Hmm? Say again, I didn’t hear you?” “It’s both…” Annie squeaked again, quieter this time. “I have to go number one and number two.” “Okay, we can stop then.” Piper flicked the switch for the ignition down. The green light above it turned red and the low rumbling of the engines ceased instantly. “If you gotta go, you gotta go. I can do some maintenance and I don’t want you stinking up the compartment.” Without the bellowing of the engine, there was only silence. It was quiet enough to hear the storm rattling the tank's frame. Though the engine was off the main light that dangled by a string over the compartment remained on, buzzing quietly. “Ha, thank you.” Annie stood up and immediately she was hit with what felt like a rushing wave pushing against her waist. It was as if her bladder had filled instantly. There was a raging tide in her bladder and it was desperately seeking a place to settle. She grabbed a handle on the wall, wrapping her hand around the cold steel. She stood pigeon-toed, the tips of her boots touching as she waited for the wave to settle. For now, with her energy channelled into keeping her cheeks clenched and her hole puckered, her bowels didn’t cause her the same discomfort her bladder did. Once the tide between her legs settled and Annie was confident she could walk without leaking, she hurried over to the ladder and wrapped her hands around the rungs, eager to climb out into the countryside and scurry to the nearest bush. The thoughts of watery relief behind a bush sent a sharp shudder of delight up her spine. She hadn’t taken a piss since this morning and it had been at least a day since she had taken a dump - An old abandoned quarry, that’s where she’d last done it, using an old cement mixer as a makeshift toilet to shit in. She climbed the first two steps of the ladder, growing ever more desperate to get outside and cater to her body’s desperate desires. Annie grinned, imagining the relief she’d soon be feeling. “Hold on.” Piper ordered. “Ooh… what is it now?” Annie whimpered, dancing in place and wrapping her legs around the ladder. “H-Hurry up, please P-Piper.” Piper did no such thing. She took her time getting up from the driver’s seat, shimmied her way through the pipes and components and made her way toward the ladder and Annie without speaking a word. Annie watched her, still squirming around the ladder as Piper pushed past her and squatted down beside the small brass case that was secured with a padlock. “Where’s the bloody hell did I…” Piper murmured, looking around the chest. She didn’t seem too bothered about Annie who felt like she was about to burst if she had to endure this any longer. “Aha!” She reached onto a low shelf and took out a small silver key, which she used to unlock the case. Annie tried to sneak a peek at what Piper was searching for, but she did a good job concealing herself as she rummaged around in the chest. She could hear things being moved, pushed aside and thrown around, but all she could see were Piper’s hands shuffling. After a few seconds Piper stood back up and approached her red-headed friend. “You’re going to need this if you’re going out.” In her hands she held a Braun.45 “A Braun?” Annie recognized the pistol; her father had owned the same model, though this one had been better maintained - it had been cared for, with no scrapes or scratches anywhere on it. The condition was like brand new, right out of the factory. She took it and held it in her hands briefly, feeling the weight of it. For a pistol, it was heavy. Annie couldn’t even remember the last time she had held a weapon. Perhaps the feeling would have brought more nostalgia if she wasn’t pressing her quivering girlhood against the rungs of a rusted ladder. “It’s best you take this too.” The second item Piper presented to her was a small gizmo no larger than a rock. It was metal, cold to the touch, with wires wrapped around the handle and a small glass screen. She handed it to Annie, who looked at it with a confused scowl, furrowing her brow as she turned it over and looked at the back. “What is it?” She asked Piper. “An Auran device.” Piper informed her. “We used to use them to detect Eldritch lifeforms.” She reached forward and flicked a switch on the side of the device. The device came to life in Annie’s hands, the screen flickered on and displayed a standard radar screen like she’d seen before. It crackled, the screen hissed with static and it made her hands feel fuzzy, but Annie saw nothing extraordinary about the device. “It’s detected nothing, so we’re safe here.” Piper droned on. “If it detects something the device will start to beep, and the frequency of the beeps will let you know how close it is. The shorter the interval between pings, the closer it is.” Annie squirmed impatiently as Piper continued to babble on. She gripped the rungs of the ladder tightly, wrapping her legs around it and squeezing her thighs against the cold steel to relieve herself of the overwhelming urge to flood her knickers. Pressing herself against the ladder helped, and Annie, though secretly, delighted in the feeling. She’d hoped that having Piper see her in such an indignant state, groping the ladder and wrapping herself around the rungs in sheer desperation would be enough to encourage her to shut up and let her get on with relieving herself. Instead however, Piper took no notice and continued prattling on about the use of the Auran device, much to Annie’s desperate dismay. Suddenly, Piper stopped explaining and looked up, scrunching her nose as she caught a whiff of something foul lingering in the air. She sniffed curiously, grimacing at the smell. “Do you smell that?” She asked Annie. “I don’t smell anything.” Annie replied calmly, knowing full well what it was. “Smells like one of the converters is breaking down.” Piper kept sniffing the air, unsure what she was smelling. All she knew was that it was foul, and it made her nostrils twitch. She turned around and bent down beside the pipes running along the bottom of the compartment. The old converters that filtered the waste from the tank emitted a sulphuric smell when they were breaking down and it was easy to believe somebody had just ripped a fart when one of them finally did. But Piper was a girl who put her tank before anything else. The moment she could smell something foul in the air, the first place her mind went was to some component or another breaking down. Annie watched in silence, wafting her hand behind her backside. She knew full well that it was neither the pipes or the converter that were responsible for that foul smell. She exhaled a sigh of relief and smiled when she felt her guts settle. It had been her who had sullied the air of the cabin, though she would never admit it. As Piper had droned on, oblivious to Annie who was holding on despite the brown load turtling between her cheeks, she couldn’t help but let one quiet fart slip. It was humiliating, her cheeks warmed as the little cloud of gas escaped her quivering hole. Annie bit down on her lip, feeling her face turn red. But she’d been saved humiliation by Piper’s obsession with keeping her tank in it’s best condition. “I’ll take a look at that in a moment.” She wiped her brow and hopped back up to her feet, scratched her arse and turned to Annie to resume her lecture. She couldn’t even speak a single word before Annie spoke first. The ginger-haired girl was cracking under the weight of her bladder and her bowels. When she couldn’t even wiggle without the fear of a muddy fart escaping, she knew time was not on her side. “P-Piper!” She hissed, tightening her grip around the ladder and brushing aside her ginger hair. “I, ahem, I’ll be fine.” She took a deep breath. “Can I please go?” “So you understand how the device works?” “Y-Yes.” Annie nodded. “It beeps and beeps faster if something gets near me. I get it.” “Alright then.” Like a strict mother, Piper gave her a nod and waved up to the hatch leading outside. “Don’t stray too far. Go out, do what you gotta do, and come back, okay?” She sat down beside the old radio, turned the dial and tuned in just in time to hear Moonlight Theatre. The narrator, a quiet man with a deep voice well suited for the theatrics offered by the station, was recreating an old radio drama. Annie barely heard his opening chapter. She climbed up the ladder and threw open the hatch. It swung back with a heavy crack and struck the top of the tank with a metallic clank. She peered her head out, and was met with the icy winds of the storm. She shuddered, feeling her skin prickle, and quickly her red frizzy locks grew damp and dull from the rainfall. The earthy smell of wet dirt was the first thing she could smell. The first thing she could see as she scouted the forest from the tank was a long stretch of road unlit by either a lamp of the moon. It was pitch black, save for the fog lights of the tank, which illuminated the road with a dimly-lit glow. She climbed atop the tank and closed the hatch behind her. She hadn’t been out for more than a minute and already she had grown damp from the rainfall, feeling the biting chill seeping through her clothes numbing her bare body. The sky grew black with storm clouds and it looked like they were in for a long night of fierce weather. There was little sign of Eldritch influence around the woods, the trees and surrounding land though scorched remained somewhat natural. The tall trees choked away the moonlight and in the foglights of the tank, Annie noted a ghastly fog sweeping the roads. She could hear nothing but the ragged sounds of her own breathing and the downpour of freezing cold rain; even the engines were silent, almost as if they were frozen in a fearful awe of the forest entangling the land around them. But as Annie scouted the area, she was reminded by her bladder of why she had ventured out here. Her bladder twinged, and she could feel her fluids sloshing around. She felt fit to burst. “I really need to take a leak.” She said with a desperate grimace. She shimmied herself along the frame and toward the turret. In one hand she clutched the Auran device, which was yet to detect any presence around her. It crackled with a lifeless hiss of static. With such pressure on her lower body, it was difficult to move properly. Annie felt her legs shaking as she slowly approached the turret, her bladder twinged fiercely, causing her girlhood to quiver. She was sure she could feel a dribble, but it could’ve just been the rain. She slowly made her way along the tank’s turret, the hollow sphere of the turret pinging against her feet as she moved delicately to keep her footing. “Oooh… I feel like I’m about to go in my pants.” She said again, this time with a soft whimper. Her bladder was growing impatient, the pains between her legs were growing worse and striking her at shorter intervals. Her bowels too pestered her during these moments of weakness; she could feel her rear knot wincing and something hot and muddy trying to rear its head between her cheeks, hanging from her clenched ring like a stick. Her stomach felt heavy and it weighed down on her, causing her great discomfort. Annie needed a second; to take a deep breath and to compose herself before continuing. If she took another step under this pressure she’d be making two messes in her pants. A few seconds beneath the biting rain passed and the pressure in her lower tummy subsided. Annie continued, sliding down the armoured plating covering the treads and descended onto the ground. The road was now a pool of thick, viscous mud, and she felt herself land straight into a muddy puddle, splattering her denim overalls with a shower of mud. “Ugh…” She exclaimed with disgust, grimacing. She tried to think nothing of it and walked on, but as she stepped away from the tank she felt another push against her brown knot, this time her whole stomach growing tight. If she dallied too long, she would have more to worry about than just dirt on her trousers. She looked up and down the road, making sure there was nobody coming. Once she was sure nobody was around, she raised her butt and with a soft grunt ripped another, lengthier fart. “Ooh~” She sighed, raising her butt higher. It was loud enough to be heard even over the rainfall and she was close enough to messing herself that Annie had to pat her butt, just to make sure it was a dry fart. It was, luckily, and she again let out a relieved sigh. “Hmmm~” The pains in her stomach settled again, leaving only relief. To the side of the tank was a thicket between two scolded trees. The dark tunnel of overgrown grass called out to Annie, the thick bushes enticing her with the promise of privacy and shelter from the freezing rain while she relieved herself. “Ha… that’ll do nicely.” She said with a joyous smile. Cautiously, she raised the Auran device in the direction of the thicket. This time, the device sensed something, marking it with a low-pitched ping. On the screen something flashed in the distance. The pings sounded with a delay of at least four seconds of dead air between them. Annie had never known such an intricate device, though she knew the pings warned her of the presence of Eldritch beings, the device did nothing to alert her to the kind of creature. For all she knew it could’ve been a bug that crawled too close to a rift. Another uncomfortable wriggling in her lower stomach pulled Annie from her thoughts. She felt the brown head of her load pushing itself against her whimpering anus once more. Her knot, which she kept puckered tightly, quivered under the stress of the waste. With a deep breath, Annie clenched her hole fiercely, the pain causing her to double over and grit her teeth as she sucked the load up back into her bowels. She could feel the log retreat, pushing back toward her bowels, but leaving an unpleasantly warm ring around her knot as it did. Growing ever nearer to her limit, Annie was forced to squeeze her legs together and clench her cheeks tightly, grimacing as the mass retreated. Her stomach tightened, a bloated feeling filled her belly and she felt the urge to rip another fart. “N-Not this time…” She said with a pained expression, knowing that if she were to rip another, there would be more than just wind. She knew she couldn’t contain herself much longer at either end. To stand out in the freezing rain and debate the machinations of a foreign device was not something Annie should be doing when she was so close to soiling herself in more ways than one. “I just have to get in the brush, and I can go in there.” She told herself, drawing strength from her words. Drawing the pistol from its holster, Annie trotted through the mud and slowly approached the tangled tunnel of bushes and leaves. She held out the Auran device again and kept it fixed on the thicket. It continued to ping at the same rate - slow, low-pitched with a delay of four seconds. She swept aside the leaves with her shoulders, cursing as the weeds stabbed at her overalls. She stepped into the brush, entering a dark nook of nature where she couldn’t be seen and the rain couldn’t get to her. She walked on, the grass crunching beneath the weight of her boots as she walked through, looking for a quiet spot to relieve herself. Annie again looked down at the scanner. Still no change. Low-pitched with a delay of four seconds. She looked around with a sheepish gaze, making sure she was completely alone. It was a habit she struggled to break. When it came to taking a dump outdoors, Annie was always nervous. It was something rooted in her since she lived in her home settlement - surrounded by so many people that she couldn’t even use an outhouse in peace. She had to make sure she was alone, even when she knew nobody else was around, Annie couldn’t properly relax until she was certain nobody would witness her doing the foul deed. After a few seconds looking around, she knew she was alone. Completely alone. Annie stepped a few inches to the left, behind a large, unscorched bush that would conceal her nicely. It was pitch black, and the foglights from the tank were the only source of light she had. She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and holstered the pistol. Once it was holstered, Annie unbuttoned the suspenders keeping her overalls up. They came undone and she took the falling fabric in her arms before they could land in the mud. Slowly, she lowered her overalls around her knees, exposing her bare arse to the cold air and squatted down low in the grass. “Ahh… AHH!” She squealed as something cold and wet tickled her crack. She jumped in fear, the surprise almost causing her to let go of her overalls. Her skin crawled and with eyes wider than plates she spun around to see what had given her an indecent touch. It was merely a wet piece of grass a few inches taller than the rest. She buried the shock behind a nervous chuckle and stomped down the blades of grass. Once again, Annie took a deep breath and squatted down over the waiting dirt. The second she was low enough to the dirt, she shuddered with delight, feeling her skin crawl. Between her thighs she felt a gliding warmth. “Ahhhh~” She sighed, taking a long, relieving piss into the grass beneath her. The golden stream rushed from between her lower lips, splattering against the damp grass between her boots. Smaller splatters splashed against her laces. “Ooooh~” She dug her hands into her knees, letting the relief run through her. Such pleasure, especially after she’d been holding her piss so long, felt amazing. Annie felt weak, digging her hand deeper into the denim of her suspenders. The air resonated with a strong pattering as she watered the grass with a flood of piss. She could feel the rising steam against her backside, a thin veil of hot vapour warmed her bare arse. At first Annie didn’t care for it, but as the steam continued to rise, turning her blue cheeks red, she grinned, basking in the pleasure. It was a lengthy piss, though Annie had lost herself to the pleasure shooting through her body. All she knew was that it was a great relief emptying her bladder after holding it for so long. She finished with a dribble, feeling a single drop running along her lips and hanging from her anus, warming her butt. The air went silent, the faint hissing fell silent and Annie hunkered down close to the ground. Her anus winced and she grimaced, looking around once again. She could feel her stomach tighten and the weight in her bowels descended, a thick brown snake squirmed down towards her hole. She closed her eyes and let nature run its course. No more than a minute, that was all she needed to take a dump. The air resonated with a quiet crackling. A small, pea-sized lump pressed itself between her anus, peeking out into the darkness. Her stomach cramped up for a second, but Annie ignored it, focusing only on squeezing out her log. But before she could, she heard the Auran device ping. She opened her eyes and leant forward to pick up the device, forcing her waste to retreat as her focus shifted to the device. She couldn’t believe it, she had heard it correctly - the red light was indeed blinking faster than it was before. On the radar screen it picked up a signal at the very edge of the screen. The red flashing light conjured a sense of fear in her. Annie tensed up, denying the descending snake at the knot of her butt freedom. All of her attention was now on the device and watching the red blip. She counted the delay between the pings, moving her head in rhythm with the device. It was now at three seconds. “It’s nothing…” Annie told herself. The blip was at the very edge of the screen and the scanner was still quite slow between the pings. “I just need to be quick, is all.” Annie rested the device on her bare knees and relaxed, setting her mind back on making a dirty deposit in the grass. Another minute passed, and Annie was still squatting in the grass. Though she could feel the heft of her waste pushing against her ring, producing a slimy head of brown filth, she couldn’t give it the final push it needed to unfurl between her cheeks. “C-Come on…” She whimpered, straining, wriggling, shuffling, anything she could to push even a small length of her log out, but her body refused. It was as if she had frozen up in fear, her mind refusing to allow her such an intimate moment for fear of the creature picked up by the device. Though she was right on the brink of messing a minute ago, right at the edge of unfurling a sizeable log into her underwear, she found it difficult to squeeze even an inch out now. Not a fart, nor a peek. “Oooh…” She whimpered, burdened by a heavy feeling that tightened her stomach. Although she couldn’t go, Annie still felt the pains in her stomach that begged her for relief. She could feel the weight lingering at her hole, a hefty load of soft mud-like mess that was fighting against her ring. But her body refused, keeping her hole puckered. They intensified, tightening like a rope around her belly. Annie grimaced, biting down on her lip until the pains subsided. It was beginning to hurt. Her stomach was cramping and she whimpered again with soft, impatient desperation, wanting nothing more than the blissful relief that followed crimping off a solid length of mess. “Come on~” She muttered again, lifting herself up and hovering bare-arsed over the dirt, giving her butt a shake. Twenty more seconds passed and Annie was still stagnant in the bushes. She was dripping wet, every inch of her thoroughly soaked through. She could only wrap her hands around her wet knees and wiggle her backside, praying that this strange bout of anxiety would soon pass. She twiddled her thumbs to pass the time, twiddling and twiddling, waiting for that moment her body would give in. Her anus, weak from clenching, gave in and finally a slither of waste widened her ring with some help. Annie pressed her legs together, tightened the grip on her knees and with a firm grunt she strained, putting all the pressure on the lump of mess peeking at the edge of her hole. “Hmmm~” She bit down on her lip and squirmed. It was working, her anus unclenched, her ring growing wider as she felt the soft mass of her mess descend on her hole. It dropped slowly, pushing her ring open to accommodate it’s girth. This was it, her whole body shuddered as she was a moment from sweet muddy relief. But again, before she could squeeze the plump mess out, the distinct ping of the Auran device distracted her. All of her attention was lost and once again. Fear ensnared her. Her body seized up and her mess retreated, protesting with a groan that caused her a brief discomfort. Then suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Annie saw something lurking in the distance. At first she thought it was nothing more than a leaf blowing in the wind, though she wasn’t certain. It was big, a large blur moving far in the distance. But Annie still couldn’t tell. She leant forward, pushed aside some of the leaves on the bush in front of her, and looked out into the distance. It was difficult to make out through the leaves. Annie pushed aside a large branch to get a clearer view. Through the thick curtain of fog that seemed to shatter against the pouring rain, she could make out a black shadow. It was wandering around, moving slowly but powerfully. Annie picked up the scanner from the ground, mud covering her bare hands, and aimed it in the direction of the shadow shambling in the distance. The device started to beep frantically, the frequency of pings growing shorter until they were only two seconds apart. The figure moved through the fog, struggling like the mist was impeding it. It’s long gangling arms swept at the air and as it grew closer, Annie saw the outline of something large. Though still a silhouette shambling through darkness, she saw the figure of what looked like a human, but its arms were long and thin like twigs. At the end of its wrists were three long fingers, twitching. It was not just her suspicion that had been aroused however; the Auran Device, fixed on the creatures position, continued to ping. The pings were rapid. Before Annie could take a breath, two seconds became one second. One second became half a second. Annie watched the beast drawing closer, still squatting down in the dirt with her suspenders undone. Not once did she think about running. She merely watched, like fear had frozen her, rooting her feet to the ground. Finally, as the Auran Device emitted a shrill continuous shriek, the fear settled in and Annie realized what was happening. She had to get out of there and back to the tank, forgoing relieving herself for the sake of safety. Without another second to spare, Annie grabbed her suspenders and scrambled to her feet, pulling them around her legs with a single hand, the other grasping a nearby branch to help her keep her balance as she got up. She sprinted through the thicket, her boots almost sticking to the mud. In one hand she held up her trousers, keeping them as high up as she could while she also clutched onto the Auran Device. It continued to emit the same unending shrill right in her ear. She used her free hand to swipe away the foliage impeding her, batting at it in a frenzied panic and throwing it aside. As she ran through the thicket, catching and scraping herself against the branches and sharp leaves, Annie felt her gut wrenching, like something was wrapped around it and tightening itself. Between her wet cheeks, which clapped together with every step she took, she felt the weight of something soft pushing down on her knot. There was nothing she could do to stop it. All Annie could do right now was put all of her strength into running. Nothing else mattered right now. She leapt out from the thicket, back out onto the muddy road and into the warming glow of the tank's fog lights. She didn’t feel safe yet, and she wouldn’t until she was back within the steel walls of the compartment with Piper. The leaves were rustling behind her, whatever she had seen was close. She sprinted toward the tank, using her free hand to button up just one length of her suspenders. She fiddled with the button, giving it almost no attention, but after a few seconds she felt it slip through the cut on her suspenders. She took a deep breath - finally she could use both of her hands. Time was running out. Annie approached the rear of the tank and scrambled to climb up it, clawing at the paint and lifting herself onto the tread covers. She climbed the turret, wrapping her arms around the barrel and lifting herself atop it. Her body groaned as she lifted herself, the worst of the fatigue could be felt pushing against her anus, leaving her hole quivering. She moved cautiously along to the hatch, the slippery surface almost causing her to slip and fall back onto the road. There was no telling where the beast had gone. The forest had gone quiet. Annie didn’t dare to look back. Her heart was pounding, her legs were shaking, almost turning to jelly from fear. She got to the hatch, stopping just before it. Inside, there were the muffled sounds of talking - it had to be the radio. Annie was exhausted, running on pure adrenaline. Her breathing was ragged, she just needed a second to catch her breath. But she couldn’t. The bushes beside her rustled, the scanner continued to moan one long continuous shrill. It was close. She was sure she could hear breathing, a ghastly beast-like breathing. She wrapped her hands around the handle, the cold, wet steel numbing her palm, and threw open the hatch to the compartment. She leapt down, sealing it behind her. At last. Safety. “Annie!” Piper, who had been sitting and listening to the radio, leapt up from her seat and rushed over when she heard Annie land with a clang. “Is everything okay? Did some…” She paused, fear drowning her face. It was almost enough to turn her pale. Piper had noticed the Auran device, hearing its shrill cry. She yanked it from Annie’s hand. “Oh fuck…” She cursed. Meanwhile, Annie fell to her knees, collapsing under fear and waning adrenaline. She panted, regaining her breath in long ragged gasps. She wrapped her hands around her stomach, tensing up when she remembered that she hadn’t been given a chance to do her business. She felt bloated, something soft descended through her guts and peeked at the edge of her butthole. Her stomach tightened again and Annie groaned, biting down on her lip. She desperately needed to fart, to let go and rip a relieving one, but she couldn’t. Not while Piper was here. Even when it could offer her some relief from the pains in her lower tummy, she still didn’t have the courage to fart in front of Piper. Had she been alone, Annie would’ve gladly done it, lifting her butt and letting the ripe little bubble burst. What she wouldn’t give to be alone right now, just to feel the relief of a fart she’d been holding in for too long. With a lip-curling grimace, she clenched her anus, denying the fart she so desperately wished to rip. Her stomach groaned, protesting with a fierce grip around her gut that caused her great discomfort to the point she whimpered. Her gut rumbled and after a few seconds she could feel the fart retreating. “Are you okay?” Asked Piper, who had finally noticed her comrade in great discomfort. She put the Auran device on a nearby box and offered to help Annie to her feet. “I’m fine… just tired from running.” She gasped, still catching her breath. She swept aside her sopping wet locks of ginger hair and stared into Piper’s eyes with shame. Suddenly, the compartment began to shake, mechanical components began to rattle. The floor beneath them shook violently. Both girls grabbed onto their seats and in a moment of fearful uncertainty looked up to one another. Whatever that creature was, it had stumbled upon the tank. Piper looked pale as ice, for once that fierce look she often wore had been lost. The Auran device continued to screech. Piper steeled herself, brushed back her hair and moved toward the red dot, creeping to make sure she didn’t alert whatever was outside. She took the device from the table and peered at the screen. “It’s circling us.” She whispered, her face illuminated by the red screen. “Whatever it is.” “Does that thing have no way of telling us what’s out there? Anything at all?” Annie asked, pointing to the Auran device. Piper shook her head, and then an idea came to her. Without telling Annie, she squatted down, grabbing onto the desk to balance herself, and looked toward the driver’s seat. “I’m going to try and look through the front window.” She whispered, glancing back at Annie confidently. “You can’t be serious?” Annie protested, wincing halfway through her words as her stomach once again tightened, fighting against her prolonged holding. “It’s the only way to know what’s out there.” Piper said, shrugging her shoulders. “I’m just going to peek out of the window and see if I can get a look.” She peered through the glass. Something big lumbered past, slogging itself across the dirt and moaning. “It’s a Shambler.” A Shambler - Annie had never witnessed one before, but she had heard stories from passing traders when she was a little girl. The great horror of the woodlands. Eldritch in origin. Tall, lumbering creatures that had wandered through the rift and now stalked the forests and swamps. They were slow, sluggish, and lacked any intelligence. But if provoked, they were a terror, a nightmare, an awakened Shambler was a being of pure strength, mercilessly pursuing whatever dared disturb it. Even the smallest of Shamblers, which still stood a head taller than a human, possessed the strength to completely overturn a tank. Piper peeked up again, checking to see if the Shambler was still there. It stood, attracted to the glare of the fog lights. “Of course it’s here. The foglights must’ve attracted it.” She crouched down out of sight and looked behind her. “Annie, get the gaslamp off, and the radio too. Last thing we need is for it to try and get in here.” Annie nodded and lifted herself to her feet. Right now, with her stomach growing tighter and her whole body feverishly quivering from her lack of strength, even doing something so trivial as turning off a light felt like a tremendous task. She hobbled over to the radio first and turned the dial. With a static crackling, the comforting sounds of the evening channel faded into silence. She stood for a second, grimacing as she could feel her rear knot once again quivering. All she could do was clench, tightening her sphincter, and pray that this would not take too long. Next was the gaslight, which sat on a box beside the radio. Annie turned the knob, watching the small orange light extinguish, the warm comforting glow of the lamp becoming a cold, dark shadow. The whole compartment was dark, though the fog lights outside gave a faint glimmer of silver light through the front window. Piper reached up to the steering wheel, her hands shaking and slowly flicked the switch for the fog lights. It went dark, the lights turning off instantly and leaving the compartment in darkness. Suddenly, Annie felt her guts tighten again. She doubled over, putting a hand on her stomach. Her anus quivered and her tummy groaned a beastrous roar. Again, she felt the urge, no, the need to rip a fart. She couldn’t hold it any longer, her guts were wrenching under the pressure and her body yearned for even the smallest bit of relief. She had no choice. Thankfully, she was right beside one of the vents that let air into the compartment. That would help with the smell at least. Annie, with a whimper, raised her butt, pressing it against the grate of the vent and strained softly, letting one rip. “Ooooh~” She sighed with relief, almost moaning as her fart left a warming impression on her buttchecks. Her lips curled into a smile, she felt sweet relief like her guts had emptied. It was delightful. Her stomach groaned softly and settled, the pressure finally abating. Once the lights and radio were off, Annie stumbled back to her seat, moving cautiously to avoid tripping on anything. When she felt the rough leather, she knew she was by her chair and plopped herself down, huddling up with her knees legs on the chair and her arms wrapped around her shins. She couldn’t believe she had just done that - ripping a fart with Piper right next to her. Though the shame had her cheeks flaring, she knew that she couldn’t help it; she’d been holding it in for so long that she had no choice but to relieve herself of some of the pressure in her gut. What really worried her was the smell. It made her cheeks flare bright red just thinking about it. When she was so close to soiling herself, it wasn’t going to smell like a basket of roses, but she took some comfort in knowing she had ripped it right next to the vent. Piper snuck back across the compartment, taking the Auran Device from the table as she passed it. She used the red light from the screen to find her way to a chair and sat down, sitting right beside Annie. There was a moment of silence between both girls, one that Annie broke. “So what are we supposed to do?” It took Piper a moment to reply; she didn’t look up from the device. “There’s nothing we can do.” She said calmly. “We’ll just have to wait until it gets bored and wanders off.” Such an answer caused Annie to whimper. Again, she started to feel the discomfort stirring in her lower tummy, her bowels growing heavy at the thought of waiting even another minute. “H-How long do you think that’ll take?” She asked, trembling. Piper shook her head, looking unsure. “Not a clue.” She answered, slumping down into the chair beside Annie and watching the scanner with a keen eye. “It could be a few minutes, could be a few hours. We might even be sleeping here tonight.” Another answer that Annie’s bowels couldn’t handle. The very thought of being stuck in here for the whole night was too much for her shivering hole. She puckered up and readied herself for a long night. “It shouldn’t take too long.” She told herself for comfort. “Shamblers are dumb, right? It’s not going to stick around for more than a few minutes.” Half an hour passed. Annie only knew this because she’d been watching the clock on the table next to her to distract herself. Her needs had grown worse in that time; Far worse than she could’ve possibly imagined. Her stomach was almost moaning, growing tighter and heavier like a weight was constricting her. She could feel the hot, moist feeling of her waste as it hung right at the edge of her hole, the long brown snake peeking out by a mere inch and hanging over the white cotton of her knickers. It wouldn’t retreat this time, regardless of how hard she tensed. She could cut a cigar with how tight her knot was clenched, but even then she could still feel it; the muddy length of waste, waiting for her moment of weakness. Annie grimaced, shuffled in her chair softly to make herself more comfortable, and bit down on her lip. Her lower half was shivering, fatigue setting in from almost an hour of fierce clenching. Her tightly-closed ring quivering, but she persisted, knowing that if she were to unclench for even a second, she would not be able to contain the brown monster that would unfurl in her knickers. Another ten minutes passed, and Annie was no better. Slowly, it was getting worse; the brown snake was descending little by little, squirming closer to her clean cotton knickers with every passing second. She began to feel bloated, like something heavy was pressing down on her stomach. Between her legs, she shivered feverishly. Her muscles were overworked, drawing the last of her strength to keep the tremendous load at bay. It was agony, like her insides were twisting around themselves like a knot but Annie persisted. It couldn’t be much longer. She pushed herself down on her seat, pressing her butt against the rough leather of the chair, and giving her cottons a brown kiss. She let out a whimper as she felt something moist smush against the cotton of her knickers. It was exactly what she feared it was. The turtle’s head was so low it mushed into the cotton of her knickers, like a cigar being stubbed out and leaving a small damp stain in the rear. Outside, the Shambler continued to stir. It persisted, circling the tank continuously, prowling near the steel frame and huffing. Even through the thick steel, its muffled snarls could be heard - a low beast-like snarl as if it were chomping at the air. “It’s still out there.” Annie whispered. “I know.” Piper whispered back, her face glowing red from the screen of the Auran device. She gritted her teeth, seething with impatience. “Come on you bastard, leave already.” And then, an idea came to Piper. “Annie, the Braun I gave you, hand it to me.” “Y-Yeah sure, let me just…” Annie froze as she reached into the holster; she couldn’t feel the iron grip of the pistol. “W-Where is it?” She looked down, frantically patting her waist. “I… It’s not here?” “What do you mean it’s not there? You didn’t drop it, did you?” She knew it wasn’t there, but Annie continued to fiddle with the holster. “I d-don’t know. I don’t remember it falling out. It must’ve slipped out while I was running.” Her heart was racing and for a moment she feared she was going to shit herself. “Goddammit.” Piper furrowed her brow and huffed. “We could’ve just blown its brains out.” “What about the turret?” Annie suggested meekly, already knowing it was a far-fetched idea. Piper shook her head. “With what ammo? That thing hasn’t been loaded in months. That old pistol was the only firepower that was on-” Piper froze, growing silent and staring down at the Auran Device. “It’s stopped circling us.” Piper whispered. “Why’s it just standing there… what’s it doing?” Suddenly, something came crashing against the tank, striking the steel frame with such force that it rocked. The Shambler moaned in distress, the sound piercing the thick walls of the compartment. Even with four inches of solid steel separating them, it was as if the Shambler was right there, beside her. The relentless striking of steel rang out in Annie’s ears. It was a shrill, piercing sound that buried itself in her mind so she could never forget it. Those horrid sounds of banging in tandem with the violent jolts that nearly threw her from her seat filled her to the brim with a surreal sense of fear. Annie whimpered, her lips trembling as she suppressed the urge to scream. Fear was coursing through her, chilling her blood until she was completely numb. She wanted to scream, but she knew she couldn’t. Piper could see she was shaking and she leant over to comfort her, putting a hand on her lap. “Shh~” She said, gesturing with a finger over her mouth. Annie didn’t say anything. She let out a childish whimper and hugged herself tight. With her shaking hand, she grasped Piper’s hand, squeezing it tight. She wouldn’t let go. As long as she knew Piper was there beside her, she felt safe, sheltered. The compartment shook violently under the constant strikes of the Shamble. The suspension beneath the floor creaked, sounding its age with a rusted squeak. Tools and Pieces scattered, crashing to the floor and hitting it with an audible clang. Both girls were almost thrown from their seats, but they held on, refusing to make a sound in any capacity. It was a furious onslaught that seemed to last forever. Beast against metal. The Shambler continued to throw itself against the frame of the tank, howling in frustration when the iron behemoth showed no reaction. Finally, everything went quiet. The Shambler moaned for a final time. It had gone silent. Dreadfully silent. Piper smiled, letting out a quiet sigh of relief. The Shambler had grown bored and realized that the object it flung itself at was of no threat. The Auran Device pinged and the red dot on the screen started to move in circles. It was over… at least that’s what Annie thought. She felt an uncomfortable shuffling in her bowels, the load that was pressuring her hole had begun shifting again, pushing against her knot. She tried to clench up and force her load to retreat, but she couldn’t. Through the fearful shivers, she didn’t have the strength to hold it in. She was too weak; the fear had loosened her. Annie took a deep breath, shuffled in her chair and hunched up tighter, squeezing her legs with her arms, pushing her knees against her stomach. The cramps in her stomach started again and this time she couldn’t contain the agony. It was as if something was pressing down on her guts, forcing the brown snake to descend. She feared this was it, she had reached her limit and finally undone by fear, she couldn’t stop what was about to come. In a final effort to hold it in, Annie straddled her chair and pushed down against the seat. She pushed down as hard as she could, until she could feel her quivering knot kissing the cotton of her underwear. The very tip of the turtle’s head could be felt touching the seat of them, leaving a small brown stain that Annie could feel. But even with her best efforts, that wasn’t enough to stop it. Her stomach grew tighter, quietly groaning as it begged her for relief. Despite her best efforts, there was nothing more Annie could do. She was going to shit herself, and she was powerless to stop it. The head of the brown snake that peaked between her clenched cheeks started to squirm, descending to the cotton of her underwear. It came slowly, a thick, moist log of hot waste squirming against her hole, stopped only by the seat that she buried her butt deep into. Annie could do nothing but sit there, letting it happen. A lone tear ran down her cheek as she accepted it and lifted herself up slowly, succumbing to the desperate urges of her bowels. She whimpered, grinding her teeth out of fear. This was it, she had tried so hard to hold it, to endure the grinding pain that had her guts twisted for so long, and it was finally over. She was powerless to stop it, and now, knowing that, she accepted it and merely let nature run its course. She eased up, her whole body relaxing. She let out a soft sigh, and relaxed her shoulders, giving in to the desire of her bowels. Her ring loosened, unclenching fully; there was nothing holding it back now. Annie braced for the worst of it, knowing that it was far from over. She straddled her seat, digging her nails into the rough leather. She gripped it with such fierce force that she pierced the leather, leaving her to caress the soft padding beneath. The great load she had been holding squirmed through her hole without retaliation. The thin head of the snake slithered through her ring without a fight, leaving a hot, messy trail. She could feel her knot widening, forced to open wide by the girth of her waste. Her stomach again started to tighten and the cramps intensified once more. The discomfort was too great for Annie, drawing closer to agony than discomfort. It grew to be too much for her and she crossed her legs together, pressing down on her shin with her heel. The first few inches of a warm log emerged, leaving a muddy trail against her cheeks as it unfurled between the crack of her butt. The air crackled quietly as she curled the first length of her log and the smell was lifting. A long plump length of wet log hung from between her cheeks, dangling over the stained cotton. It was soft, like damp clay. Annie could feel that there was some left. Annie strained, grimacing as she forced out another inch of the log, letting it unfurl between her cheeks. It marked its sloppy descent with a slimy smearing that refreshed the brown streak between her buttcrack. The plump, lengthy log lowered another inch, the flattened head curling up as it finally reached the seat of her underwear. Annie could feel her stomach settle, now unburdened by the load that was now unfurling in her knickers. The relief was tremendous, causing a sweet shudder to surge through her body, but mostly it was the relief in her stomach that had her smiling, like a great weight had been lifted from her. “Hmm~” She sighed, hiding her relief. She felt guilty for enjoying this even half as much as she did. It was a feeling of much-needed relief, so much so that Annie cracked a sinful smile. Perhaps had this been a situation that didn’t require her to remain in her seat, Annie would’ve taken a bucket or maybe even some paper and done her business in the corner. It would’ve been far less humiliating that what she was doing right now - leaving a large trail of brown in her knickers. She was almost finished lightening her load, but there was still a fine bit to squeeze out. Annie lifted herself from the chair with her arms, hovering over the seat. and gently shook her butt from side to side. With each gentle shake, she tapped the moist log against her buttcheeks. Annie could only grimace, lips twisting into a sour expression at the feeling of the log hanging from her hole. The air crackled softly as she could feel a length of waste tear off under its own weight, gently laying itself out in the once pristine cotton of her underwear. With a soft moan, Annie tensed up, the relief of lightening her load still tingling, causing her to shiver in glee. She clenched tightly, the ring of her anus winced and she cut off the final length of the log. There was a light crackle and a sound like a snap. Annie felt the log snap and break off, cut free by a quick wince of her hole. It fell, settling in the seat of her knickers, staining both the cotton and her butt. “Uuu~” Annie whimpered quietly under her breath, her lips curling into a smile. It was shameful, she knew it was, but it felt too good. The load rested in the seat of her knickers, the soft mass curling and taking the shape of the curve of her butt. It was a long one, leaving a hot, stained splatter that ran the length of her buttcheeks. It was close to her thighs, wrapping around them and contorting to the shape of her cheeks. Though she had birthed a sizeable log in her knickers, that was still not the end of it. Annie felt her stomach tightening, something in her gut dropped and she felt a second, smaller log pressing against her muddied hole, seeking release. She feared she had no room left in the seat of her knickers. She had already filled them with the great weight of the first load. That didn’t matter; it was already coming. All Annie could do was lift herself a few more inches off her seat, lifting herself until she was nearly standing, giving the second log just enough room to unfurl from between her cheeks. Already it was pouring out of her, a small, but thick snake as soft as wet clay curled from her quivering hole, and unfurled atop the first length of waste, adding to the brown mountain already resting in her underwear. That was the end of it, and Annie concluded with the quietest of farts that lightly peppered her knickers with splatters of waste. At last, it was finally over. Her stomach settled, and the relief faded but in its place came a crippling shame. Annie sat quietly, ignoring the load that was weighing down the seat of her knickers. She sat in disbelief, panting from a shortness of breath that was brought on by fatigue. She couldn’t believe it, even with a fat lump of brown mess resting in the rear of her knickers, Annie couldn’t bring herself to believe what had just happened - A grown girl and she had shit herself. Shame was swelling up inside of her, filling the void left behind by the fading relief. Once it had set in, she couldn’t rid herself of the shame. Annie tried closing her eyes, imagining herself far away from here, in a field in the countryside on a warm summer day, but still the feeling persisted. The rising smell that polluted the air was enough to knock her out of any fantasy she wished for. Soon the smell was overwhelming, and the soft mush that had sunk down, crushed beneath the weight of her butt was all Annie could think about. For now, Annie was forced to endure it. Until the Shambler left she would be confined to her seat, sitting on a cushion of her own mess. Finally, the Auran Device fell silent. There was only a crackling of static that remained. The Shambler had vanished, wandering back into the depths of the charred forest. Though it seemed to be clear, neither girl moved from their seat. There was no telling how much time had passed. It was pitch black, and the clock on Piper’s desk had broken when the creature first struck the tank. Annie sat in silence, clinging to her chair. She tried to ignore the smell of shit that lingered in the tight confines of the compartment, emanating from the brown bulge in the back of her underwear. The seat of her knickers was weighed down by the two lumps of mess she had squeezed out. Right now she could feel the soft clay-like mass pressing against her bare butt, it's shape shifting with the movement of her cheeks. It was warm and moist, a foul swamp of muddied mess nestled right between the crack of her butt. Right this moment, there was nothing Annie pined for more than a hot bath. It was bad enough that she was soaking wet from trudging through the thunderstorm to take a dump, but the worst of it was that the only warmth she could feel came from the seat of her underwear. Her soaked, soiled clothes only reminded her of what was seated in them. Unfortunately, luxuries like bathing or even a river to wash her clothes were a rarity on the main roads. For now the only thing that kept Annie going was the thought of being out of her soiled clothes and into a clean pair of spares that she kept in her footlocker, as well as a fragrant wet wipe between the cheeks. Both girls remained in silence for a few minutes after the beast had vanished. Neither wished to be the first to break the silence. That was until Annie, assuming it to be safe, got up from her chair. Slowly, she got to her feet, stifling her whimpers at the weighted feeling of her sagging underwear. She grimaced, feeling a peeking head of waste caress her thighs like a brush on a canvas, painting her pale skin a shameful brown. The quiet footsteps of the stalking monster ceased, the low curious growls had been silenced, leaving only the howling wind in its stead. Annie looked around, trying to hear something, but there was nothing. It was over. It had to be. There hadn’t been a single sound outside since the device had fallen silent. Soft lumps of mess that had clung to her backside broke loose. The feeling of soft clay-like mess slowly peeling away from her bare cheeks was something that made Annie grimace with a sour-expression. “W-Why don’t I get some light going?” Annie said quietly, trying to make conversation in the hopes of lightening the mood. Piper said nothing. Annie made her way through the compartment, moving slowly through the darkness as to not trip over any scattered wires or junk. Every step she took, the bulge in the rear of her underwear jiggled softly, and she could feel her load tapping her bare thighs. The small gas lamp she had turned off earlier was lying on the floor near the table. Thankfully, the glass hadn’t been shattered. She turned the dial and turned the gas lamp on. With a hiss, a small flame emerged, lighting up the compartment with a gloomy orange glow. “I think it’s gone now.” Annie said quietly, walking back to her chair with the lamp in-hand. She placed the lamp on the floor between them and not wanting to reacquaint her backside with the load in her underwear, leant against the back of her chair. Piper stayed silent. She sat quietly, her black hair covering her face. But Annie could see she was quivering, her lips curling like she was in pain. “Piper?” She called again, softly this time. Again Piper said nothing. There was only silence, broken by a soft whimper. She sat stiffly in her seat, hunched up with her legs pressed tightly together. Her hands were pushed between them, almost crushed by how tightly she held her legs together. Suddenly, Annie heard a sound. It was difficult to hear at first. It sounded like hissing, but distant. It grew in intensity, growing louder until Annie could hear it clearly. And then there was a dripping. That too was growing louder, and more frequent until it was continuous, like a weak stream of running water. Around Piper’s butt a small puddle was forming, creeping out from beneath her and spreading out across her chair. It was growing larger, moving towards the edges of her seat. Piper said nothing. She sat quietly, her face hidden beneath her fringe with a fist against her mouth. Perhaps it was from the shock, but it took Annie a moment to properly comprehend what was happening. But when she realized, there was a flutter in her heart. “P-Piper?” She said calmly, her lips trembling. Piper was wetting herself right in front of her. Her olive khakis were soaked through, the drab green turning darker as Piper relieved herself in them, struggling to hold it back. She took a deep breath and bit down on her fist, her quivering lips showing the faintest glimpse of relief. She kept going, the sounds of water piddling against fabric intensifying until they echoed through the compartment. Her khakis, now soaked entirely, could not hold anymore piss. The pool started to grow, forming around her backside and expanding out onto the chair. It crept out until finally it started to trickle down the side of the seat and tap against the steel floor. It was only a tapping at first, but quickly it began to drip and finally one long continuous dribble battered the floor, covering the silver steel with a small pale puddle. A small cloud of steam rose from between Piper’s legs. The stench of fresh piss had grown strong, mixing with the sullied air of Annie’s own produce. Through it all, while her best friend sat hunched up on her chair wetting herself, Annie stood completely still, leaning against the back of her chair and witnessing it with a dumbward expression pasted across her face. Never had she imagined that Piper would soil herself. She was a strong, militant girl, the confident one of them both - a girl that was never afraid to just drop trou and relieve herself whenever the need presented itself. But now, Annie had seen it. She had seen a moment of weakness from Piper. There was only one explanation she could think of and she found it ridiculous to even think it. “Piper?” She said quietly but with a caring voice, “The Shambler - were you scared?” Piper seemed to shake her head at such a question before leaning back in her chair, ignoring the pool of piss she was sat in. At least she was still in good spirits. “It’s been a while since I’ve dealt with a Shambler.” She chuckled, trying to play off what had just happened. “You think they’re big dumb brutes and sometimes they surprise you.” She took a deep breath and leant forward, making sure to avoid her wet trousers with her arms. “I’ve been dying for a piss for the last hour… I’ve been holding it in since you went out to do your business.” “You’re not the only one who got a surprise.” Admitted Annie. It was not with shame, but rather with confidence that she told Piper she had soiled herself. “I couldn’t go either. The device started going crazy while I was in the bushes.” Perhaps it was from the awkwardness of the situation, but Annie couldn’t help but chuckle. It had spiralled from awkwardness to hilarity. Annie found comfort in knowing that she was not the only one who had caved in to fear, or that she was the only one with a soiled pair of underwear. There was no reason to be ashamed, knowing Piper was in a similar situation. Knowing that it was not only her, it seemed to liven Piper’s spirits. “So that smell WAS you?” She said, a faint smile patching over her frown. “I was wondering where that smell was coming from. I thought that thing outside busted the other converter.” Annie shook her head, and with a renewed confidence, she admitted to her incident earlier. “Neither of the converters are busted.” She said, her cheeks growing rosy. “I… r-ripped a fart earlier before going outside.” Both girls looked at each other and just like that, the fear was gone. At first, Piper glared as if she was judging Annie, but then suddenly she started to laugh. Her giggles were infectious and soon after Annie too started to laugh. The laughter helped to lighten the mood and finally both girls felt somewhat comfortable about the awkward situation they had found themselves in. “Right, we should get changed, huh?” Piper said, putting a hand on Annie’s shoulder. “It’s starting to reek in here.” Annie nodded. Not only was the smell lifting but it was starting to get uncomfortable. “D-Do you mind if I get changed first?” She asked. “Go for it.” Piper nodded. She put a hand against her desk and lifted herself to her feet. A small rainfall of pee dribbled from her soaked trousers, landing in the puddle on the seat with a tinkling. “Should I go wait in the driver’s seat?” She asked, trying to mask the sound. “P-Please.” Annie said and trudged over to her footlocker. “D-Do you think we could have the radio on?” Piper leant over and flicked the switch of the radio. It crackled, bursting out with a hiss of static before tuning in to the evening channel. “And you’re back with Moonlight Quartet. Next up, we have the arrangements of Jodie Dunkirk and the Stars in the sky orchestra.” With the smooth sound of big band jazz playing through the radio, Annie waddled through the compartment and behind her desk. There was a small spot that would conceal her while she changed. She didn’t want Piper to see her, or the sorry state of her soiled underwear. Every step she took, she could feel the soft pat she had made thumping sloppily against her cheeks. It made a wet sound with every slap. Annie cringed. She still couldn’t believe it - a girl of nineteen and she’d shit herself. Once she was behind her desk, she undid her suspenders and let them fall down, around her boots. She wrinkled her nose and grimaced, catching a strong whiff of her own creation. Next, her knickers. Annie was dreading this part. She didn’t dare grab the waist for fear she would feel something more than just cotton. Instead, she grabbed the front of them and slowly pulled them down. “Are you not done yet?” Piper yelled over the music on the radio. “I need to get changed too, you know.” “I-I’ll be a minute.” Annie replied. She took a deep breath and thrust her knickers down around her boots. Curiosity got the better of her and she couldn’t help but take a peek at the damage her white cottons had endured. The seat of her knickers were brown and nestled right in the rear was a large brown pat of mess. It had been flattened by Annie’s butt, now resembling a brown pancake that spread across the rear of them, soiling the clean white cotton. “P-Piper? Where’s the toilet paper?” Annie peered over her desk and asked. “Check the footlocker. It should be in there.” Annie got down on her knees and rooted through the footlocker. She found an old wrench, some screws and a suspiciously sticky copy of “Girls Und Tanks.” before finding a cardboard tube without even a scrap of toilet paper on it. “It’s empty.” Annie said, waving the cardboard tube. Piper peered over the back of her seat, brows furrowing when she saw the empty roll. “Goddammit, that was our last roll. Umm…” She scratched her chin, staring in thought. “Oh, rummage around in my footlocker - there should be a can of this old military-grade wash.” Sure enough, there was an olive-coloured can of something in Piper’s footlocker. It was rusted and the words were illegible. “Is this it?” Annie asked, waving the can up for Piper to see. “Yep.” She nodded. “Should do the trick… and hurry up, I feel like I’m stewing here…” She didn’t need much time to wash up, a quick rinse between the cheeks and down her thighs and that enough for Annie. She ignored the dampness and the rough, soapy feeling of the old military wash as it felt like her skin was drying up. Once that shameful affair was concluded, Annie reached back into the footlocker and pulled out a canvas sack. She unravelled the top and pulled out her spare clothes - a dark green pair of trousers and an old grey shirt. They were nothing fancy; an old pair of clothes Piper kept with her, but they no longer fit her. They were just the right fit for Annie though, so she was more than happy to take them. She threw on the grey shirt, pulled up the trousers and didn’t bother to button them up. It was more comfortable this way, without the button on the crotch pressing against her tummy. Dressed in her clean spares, Annie huffed a sigh of relief and fell back into her chair. The “bottled bath” had left her butt and thighs feeling a tad rough but Annie didn’t mind; it was still preferable to an uncomfortable cushion of mess resting against her butt. She spun her chair around, faced her desk and reached down to the crate of soda she kept beside it. There were only two bottles left. She took one, popped it open and took a sip. She leant back again and looked over to the compartment. “P-Piper, I’m finished.” “Alright.” Piper replied. She climbed out of her chair and walked over to her bed to get changed. Annie almost choked on her soda as Piper, completely free of anything but her boots and knickers, strolled past. She spun her chair around, watching her comrade walk toward the footlocker at the rear of the compartment. Her boots squelched with every step, clearly soaked through with piss. Her plain white knickers too, were thoroughly drenched, sagging from her waist. They were stained yellow and clinging to her crotch, matching the outline of her womanhood. Piper didn’t care one bit; it wasn’t the first time she’d pissed herself. She stood before her footlocker and kicked it. The box creaked and the top popped open. She pulled off her boots and threw them aside. Her feet were glistening with fresh streaks of piss. The long, thin streaks of piss that ran down her legs were starting to dry by the heat of the gas lamp. She rummaged around in her footlocker, throwing aside an old canvas sack and another pair of boots. “Goddammit.” Piper cursed, pulling out a spare pair of white underwear. “What’s up?” Annie asked, struggling to hide the tremble in her voice. She stared at Piper’s backside, wide-eyed, making sure to savour every moment. Piper huffed, slammed the footlocker shut with her foot and sat down on top of it. “Those were my spares, weren’t they…” She pointed to her soiled fatigues thrown over the back of the driver’s seat. “My other shirt and trousers are soaked in oil. I’ve got nothing to wear.” Annie had completely forgotten about that, and now she’d remembered that it was her fault Piper had gotten drenched. “Oh, r-right.” She said nothing more for fear of reigniting the frustration in Piper. “Do you want to wear my spares?” She offered, already she was pulling her arms out of her shirt. “I don’t mind.” Piper shook her head, but smiled. “Don’t worry about it.” She stood back up and twirled the clean pair of knickers around her finger. Before Annie could say another word, Piper bent over, lifted her leg and put on her spare underwear. She grew still, cupping the glass of cola tighter. There was a lump in the back of her throat that kept her silent. She watched Piper pull her underwear up, almost salivating as her buttcheeks swallowed the cotton between them. The white cotton between her crack created a shapely divide between her cheeks. She pulled her thumbs out from the sides of them, letting the fabric slap against her thighs and jiggle her cheeks. There was that familiar tingle that left Annie shuddering. She straightened up and pressed the cold glass down against her crotch, shivering at the feeling. She couldn’t let Piper know that she was enjoying this. Peering lewdly at Piper was the one little pleasure that she would never share. Piper, paying no attention to Annie and her antics, strolled back to her seat and took her shirt off the back of it. “I didn’t piss on my shirt at least.” She brushed off a few specks, gave it a shake and slipped it on. “You’re just going to wear your shirt? Not even a pair of trousers?” Piper shrugged without a single shred of care. “It’s not like anybody else can see me. It’s just you.” She reached under her shirt and scratched beneath her breasts. Without a bra, her breasts jostled her shirt softly. “I’ll be fine like this for the night. It’s quite comfy actually.” Annie didn’t say anything, but her ladyhood certainly agreed with this choice of attire - Piper in nothing more than her knickers and a shirt. Annie’s lip quivered, she was close to drooling at the sight. For Piper, to be out of her wet clothes was a great feeling. She took a deep breath, stretching out her arms and letting her loose shirt hang from her shoulders. Eager to get behind the wheel, She pressed her hands together and cracked her knuckles. “Right, let’s not stick around, let’s get back on the road and out of this god awful forest.” Together, they started the ignition and again Piper took the wheel. Annie sat down between the small corridor that separated the driver’s seat from the compartment and made herself comfortable. From there, she had the finest view in the whole world - Piper’s butt, the wedge of white cotton splitting her cheeks and those long, slender legs. She took a sip of her soda and grinned. Maybe tonight was not so bad, after all. The End

Lalala85 asked me to post this old story I wrote for Nyou Fiction. If I remember right, Rikuko was sort of an expy of a character Orpheum had recently written about. It had been a long day at the office, and Rikuko just wanted to rest. But she couldn't rest yet. She had one more duty to perform. With a rhythmic clicking of heels on hardwood, the stately Asian tricenarian in her dark blue business suit walked into the master bedroom carrying a plastic sack, and closed the door behind her. She set the bag down on the bed, closed the blinds, and locked the door. She wished she had even further assurance that no one was going to witness the following scene besides its intended audience. She was anything but shy, but this was one thing that could wreck anyone's perception of her, like a well-placed strike from a hammer could wreck any marble goddess. Her wristwatch went onto the dresser. She took off her black high heels and placed them in the closet, then carefully slipped off her stockings and put them in the dirty clothes basket. She removed her professional attire piece by piece and hung it up. Her usual fastidiousness was exaggerated into even more slow and deliberate care by her intentional procrastination. She was very hesitant to go through with what would happen once these pieces of her dignity had all been stripped away. She stood there for a while in her bra and panties, prolonging the inevitable. Despite being nearly naked, she still looked very proper. Organized. Professional. Dignified. Even a little intimidating. This was because of two things: her perfect posture, which she almost never neglected, even in the most private and informal situations; and her humorless expression, which she wore almost every waking hour of every day. The effect was helped by her black hair, still done up into a bun with no strand out of place, and her makeup, which made her look as precise and immaculate as a human being could hope to be. From the neck up, she still looked like she could be a lawyer, a doctor, a C.E.O., or a strict schoolteacher. It was with great hesitation that she brought herself to the next step. Slowly, her polished nails plunged into the space between the elastic band of her panties and her pale flesh, like the talons of a bird of prey making a kill. The veil of modesty gradually made its way down her thighs until it fell past her ankles onto the floor. She suppressed a shiver as the cold air of the room met her most intimate parts, even though there was no one to witness this lapse of composure if she had let it happen. She looked down, as if to confirm that she did indeed have the private parts of a mortal woman. She was cleanly shaven, as she had kept herself for a long time. Not for the sake of any man, but for her own sense of orderliness. She hadn't looked at the bag she'd laid on the bed, as if ignoring it would make it disappear, along with her humiliating agreement. But it was still there, and the lettering of its shameful contents still faintly showed through the white plastic in shades of pink and baby blue. It was a package of adult diapers. With her well-kept fingernails, she angrily yet gracefully clawed open the packaging. Her lips curled back a little, violating her statue-like solemnness. She was angry at the inanimate objects, and wished to hiss at them like a cat, or better yet, attack them. But she didn't. She put one on. She had fastened diapers around the body of a child far too many times, but that didn't make the job of fastening them around herself any less awkward. If anything, it did the opposite. She felt that she, Rikuko Nanri-Paris, a refined, well-educated woman of thirty-seven, and executive vice president of a multi-million dollar corporation, had regressed to the level of a helpless infant. Imagining putting on a diaper was nothing compared to doing it. But then, wearing a clean diaper was nothing compared to what she had agreed to do. Even once the diaper was properly fitted to her body, she felt like there was something wrong. It didn't feel like clothes. Something about the way it hugged her hips felt very strange. She became distracted by her new garment, looking at herself in the full length mirror. Something about the look and feel of the childish yet revealing bottom tempted her to wiggle her hips, and she did just that. Her lips didn't smile, but her eyes revealed that she was giggling on the inside. Her performance was quite poor. But then she'd realized long ago that she couldn't be sexy. Not in the conventional sense, at least. Her curves identified her as a woman, but didn't do much beyond that, and she wouldn't have known how to emphasize them even if she'd taken a six-week course on the subject. It had always been her composure, her dignified appearance and manners, and her intimidating spirit that had grasped and held the attention of the opposite sex. Her beautiful face helped some. She had gorgeous brown eyes that looked almost like tiger's eye pendants when the light hit them the right way, arching eyebrows, soft and full lips, and an adorable button nose, all set in a head that was the epitome of feminine elegance. But it wasn't always easy to notice beauty when it was served as such a cold dish. Another turn-on was the surprising yet unmistakably present warmth beneath her frigid exterior, the compassion and fierce devotion she showed for those few who she deeply cared for. Most never had a chance to see that, however. Rikuko couldn't stall any longer. She took a deep breath, collected herself, unlocked the door, and opened it wide. "I'm ready," she said in her normal silky voice. Her stern, indifferent expression was replaced by a smile, which faded away when she realized how fake it must have looked. Now she had an audience, and no choice but to perform. Her heart beat like the wings of a hummingbird. "I'm going to pee first. Once I'm done with that, I'll poop." Her words were met with a wide grin beneath the pair of eyes fixed on the region of her pelvis. Rikuko wished she had one hundredth that enthusiasm over the proceedings. She hadn't taken a restroom break all day, which was unfortunate for her personal comfort, but useful for her purpose. Rikuko had excellent bladder control. That meant she could hold large quantities of urine inside for large spans of time without being distracted from her duties or even betraying the slightest sign of discomfort. It also meant she could let loose the instant she wanted to, despite suppressing the need for hours, and despite the other factors that would make a shyer woman hesitant to release her stream. She wasn't even bashful doing it while watched. It was a normal thing every person did, and she would never allow herself to appear ashamed of it. It was the thing she was about to do now that wasn't normal, and that was why she felt so apprehensive and shameful about it. But a deal was a deal. She put her hands on her hips, spread her legs apart ever so slightly, and prepared to do something very abnormal. "Here I go." She wasn't sure she'd be able to do it, but when the time came, her external urethral muscle released its grip readily, and a muffled hissing sound could be heard. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back. "Aaah!" She sounded an exaggerated sigh of relief, her ruby lips forming a fainter and more believable smile than before, and her eyelashes fluttering with pleasure. Now she could add "actress" to her many skills, since in her mind the pleasure was being greatly overshadowed by the discomfort, guilt, and extreme strangeness she felt at that moment. The feeling inside the diaper was certainly strange. Instead of feeling wet, it was as if the absorbent material below her urethral meatus was merely warming up. It felt sort of like she was doing the splits naked on a space heater that had been carpeted over. But before long, the large-bladdered lady's output was greater than the material could suck in. A pool formed in the diaper's lowest point, and Rikuko's mons veneris and the tops of her thighs went for a dip. It was somewhat pleasant, and made her wish the rest of her body could relax in a hot tub as well. After three quarters of a minute, the hissing stopped, and the professional look returned to the relieved woman's face. But, despite her wonderful self-control, she was blushing. A full bladder intentionally emptied into an adult diaper worn when no medical problem required it. Such a dirty thing for a woman of her stature to do. If Rukiko had had illicit sex with a boy in the antechamber of her church right after her own conformation ceremony she could hardly have felt more guilty than she did now. And yet what she was about to do was even worse, and much, much dirtier. Rikuko spoke again as the absorbent fabric was catching up with the backlog of urine. "I'm done peeing now, so I'm going to start pooping. Normally I poop first thing every morning, and then never have to poop again all day. But this morning I was in such a hurry that didn't poop, so I have a lot of poop inside me." It would have been easier if she had squatted, but she refused to. Although she was about to defecate into a diaper, she still wanted to maintain a part of her dignity by standing like a human being trained in proper posture, not crouching on her haunches like a dog befouling a lawn. So she stood there like she was nailed to the floor. Her eyes closed. Her breathing deepened. The redness of her face deepend as well. Squatting or not, it was apparent that she was in the action of moving her bowels. She didn't really have any way to spread her firm, well-rounded cheeks, so they remained tightly closed, as if the dignified part of her was controlling them and using them to keep this shameful action from happening, while the part of her that accepted the situation was opening her anus and pushing from within. Not much was happening, so the beautiful businesswoman betrayed her august exterior even more by bending her knees just a little, taking a deep breath, and squeezing. Since she was there to put on a show, she decided to go the whole nine yards, and grunted loudly. Her hidden anal opening finally became a serviceable passage, and a firm but malleable fecal bolus crawled through. With nowhere to go, it stayed between her tense cheeks, curling around to move downward instead of outward. With a rustle, it fell into the cavity of the diaper, winding up partly between her legs, partly stuck in her crevice, and partly reshaped by her body and her garment. Once the entire mass had slipped out of her rear opening, the shapeless mess of "N" and "G" sounds coming out of her front opening died out and was replaced by feminine gasping sounds as she drew breath in again. Having a lump of feces inside her diaper felt even stranger than she'd anticipated. She enjoyed the sensation just a little bit, with that childish feeling of naughtiness she rarely felt these days. Without looking inside, she couldn't tell for sure what shape it was, but it felt to her like she had a frog in her diaper that had been lounging in a luke-warm pond on a hot day. There wasn't much smell. The strict diet that kept Rikuko's figure fit and trim also kept her intestinal gases at a low volume. This was just as well, since no one could believe a fine lady like her could release foul gas anyway. Now that she had gotten the hang of messing a diaper, the rest came more easily. Pushing a little more discreetly than last time, she transferred a stubby cylinder of waste from her rectum into her diaper. Blocked by the first mass, it couldn't fall all the way down, and came to rest between her cheeks like a hot dog in a bun. What came next also had that sausage shape, but was longer and smoother, and had even less room once it had squirmed out. Its end pushed the other two between her legs to where a hard part of one was tickling her crotch, and its middle section buckled and curved to the sides several times, leaving her with something shaped like a squiggly line stuffed into the space between her body and the fabric. The squishing, squirming, sticky sounds produced by liberating this length of feces brought a smile to the viewer's face. "There's just a little more left inside," Rukiko said. True to her word, some more feces exited her. It was a soft shapeless blob that further moved her earlier productions so that everything from the proximal border of her vulva to the part of her back below the waistband of the diaper felt packed tight with manure. "There," Rikuko said with a fake sound of satisfaction, along with a hint of confrontationalism, to her four year old daughter, who had been watching the show eagerly. "I've peed and pooped in a diaper." She turned around and smacked her bottom. The dull thump and unyielding lump proved that her young-looking mother had indeed loaded up the diaper. "Now you have to pee and poop in the toilet from now on," Rikuko continued sternly. "That was the deal." She softened her voice somewhat. "I'm not going to be mad if you're not dry every single day, but you have to try. If you're going to wear panties like I do, you have a responsibility to keep them clean like I do. Peeing and pooping in your diaper is...well, it's not the worst feeling in the world. But it's not nice to have to get wet every time you have to pee, and get sticky every time you have to poop. And now you can't say that I'm calling it a bad thing without every trying it, because I just did it, and it's yucky. And now I'm all yucky and I'll have to clean myself up. It's much better to go to the toilet every time you have to pee or poop, even though it might be a long ways away and it can be hard to hold your pee or poop until you're there. I do that every time, and you can too. I'm going to go clean up now." Rikuko walked into the bathroom and shut and locked the door. She hoped she had finally driven the point home. If this tactic didn't get the stubborn child to give up diapers, she was completely out of ideas.

So, yeah… this happened. This idea is a fair bit more tame than most of my SAO fic concepts, and it’s almost canon-compliant… but of course, I’ll be adding my own twist to the events of Aincrad, because it’s me. Apologies in advance to anyone who misses my old stories, as I have no good news on those fronts, but as for this, well… I’m already three-thousand-ish words into chapter five, so that probably says a lot about how committed I am to this particular fic. Anyway, things you need to know before proceeding to read. If you already read my status explaining all these, you can skip these, but if you’re a newcomer, give them a read: #1: Kirito is a girl. Hence, Kirito has become Kiriko, as is customary for my fics. On a related note, most of the ships which become couples in this fic will be yuri/wlw/whatever you wanna call it. This applies to both Kiriko ships and non-Kiriko ships, btw. As for which ships will become couples… I’ll keep that to myself a bit longer. Until then, feel free to speculate! #2: The first two, maybe a few more, arcs are predominantly viewed through Asuna’s perspective and are modeled off of the Progressive manga. If you like what you’re reading here, maybe give the Progressive manga a read, because it’s easily the best SAO Aincrad arc official media to ever have existed. Progressive is largely from Asuna’s perspective, but for those of you like me who don’t really like Asuna that much in canon, don’t worry, Progressive Asuna is way better as a character than OG canon Asuna. Like, so much so that I actually genuinely like Asuna in Progressive, whereas I normally hate her in other media. #3: This version of SAO has a stupidly complex and unfair bathroom needs system implemented. As a result, toilets, pads, pullups and cloth/disposable diapers all exist. I’m explaining the disposable pullups/diapers as magical to get them into the setting, but they still feel very much like normal disposable pullups and diapers do. #4: Certain characters who died in canon SAO will be living in this fic. To avoid spoiling you, I will not be naming any of them, but expect this to drastically change the events of the middle stages of this fic, after I stop modeling its plot off of Progressive. #5: After/during floor 75’s Heathcliff deathmatch, we’ll be switching continuities to start travelling similar plot threads to the ones traveled by SAO Re: Hollow Fragment. As terrible as that game’s gameplay is, its plot isn’t half bad, and I have a soft spot for the gameverse continuity, so… yeah. That’s about all you need to know. If this sounds like a fun read for you, go ahead and give this a try! See you below! Sword Art Online: Of Death Games and Diapers Chapter One: Asuna’s Shooting Star In a small, barebones bedroom in the cheapest inn in the «Town of Beginnings», a pair of chestnut eyes suddenly snapped open, their owner sweating and panting in a disoriented mess as she slowly regained awareness of the world around her. That nightmare… Her whole body shivering in the cold, she raised her right hand and gestured with it to open her menu. After navigating submenus for a few seconds, she arrived at a date readout, and the light in her eyes dimmed. Just as she’d feared. “November 19th, 2022. Saturday,” she mumbled it aloud, voice reflecting how dead inside she felt in that moment. “Today is the day… of the unified mock test…” It was at precisely this moment that the young girl woke up just enough to notice why she was so cold. Her clothes, the covers, the bedsheets — all of them were damp. The girl took a deep breath, then sighed. It happened again. It happened every time she had a nightmare. Which, since she’d gotten trapped in this unfamiliar place, was almost every night. Asuna Yuuki, high school girl and heiress of RECT Incorporated, had wet the bed. After paying a small fee to wash both the bedding and the clothes she had been wearing, Asuna left the inn, stomach rumbling from hunger every few minutes as she walked through the crowded streets towards the place she always went to for breakfast. She could barely see in front of her from under the veil of her hooded cape, but she made it there at around the usual time, maybe a few minutes faster than normal because bad moods made her walk faster. She stepped up to the counter and listened to the baker NPC’s ragged, boring old greeting with narrowed eyes, purchased a loaf of «Black Bread» for a single Col, and retreated to the steps leading up from the edge of the bakery’s food court to eat it in a subdued silence. As she tossed the last scrap of bread into her mouth, she couldn’t help but think to herself, It doesn’t even taste any good… “A hidden logout spot?” an incredulous voice asked, making Asuna’s eyes dart over to where she heard him. “It’s just another false rumor. Who would be dumb enough to believe that?” The man sitting at the table with him calmly replied with a smug grin. “But I hear it comes from the «Rat» herself. She wouldn’t just make shit like that up.” “Oh really now?” the first man pointed a finger at his buddy accusingly before bursting into laughter. He came off as… kinda drunk. Face was flushed and everything. “‘It comes from the Rat,’ he says. The nerve of this guy!” A few moments passed without either of them speaking, but Asuna still listened attentively. If the rumor was true, then… she could take the test after all… The man who’d seemed so confident in himself just a second ago sighed before speaking in a much more reserved tone. “So I hear it’s supposed to be in the forest west of here. There’s a cave way in the back that looks like the right place… and no one who’s gone has come back. What’s that tell you?” Asuna hadn’t realized until she was halfway to their table, but she’d instinctively gotten up and started walking over to ask for more info. How could she not, though? If there was even a chance it was true, then… and taking that test was more important than anything she did in here. The skeptic replied in a hearty tone. “That they got killed by the mobs in there. Fuckin’ dumbass!” Just before he was about to burst out laughing again, Asuna reached the table and subconsciously slammed her fists down on top of it, startling the two men out of their drunken stupor as their heads snapped over in her direction. Their stares made her nervous, but the young girl pressed on in desperation. “Um! Excuse me! Which way is the forest to the west?” The guy who’d made the claim spoke first, his smug grin returning. “I mean, it’s where you think it’d be. It’s out west of here, bout an hour down the path out the western gate.” “Thank you very much,” Asuna said as she turned to leave. The voice of the skeptic called out to her before she got very far. “Uh, you know you need to be about level three around there, right?” Asuna paused. It wasn’t like she hadn’t expected it to be challenging, but… for her stats all the way down at level one… could she handle this alone? “You’re one of those folks waiting for help from the outside, right?” the skeptic continued, sounding genuinely concerned about her, a perfect stranger. “Don’t get yourself killed, there’s no need to rush. In another few days, I’m sure someone will hack in and we’ll all be rescued.” Asuna shook her head. “In a few days, it’ll be too late.” The other man piped up, voice sort of hesitant. “You got urgent business back in the real, girlie?” She wanted to tell them just what she needed to do, but she knew she’d just sound stupid and childish if she did. She couldn’t admit she was risking her life just to take a mock test. It was effectively social suicide to people like these. But to her, these tests were her life! She’d rather die than waste a chance to escape and further her education… otherwise, her mother would— No, never mind. It’s pointless, thinking like that, in terms of what she wants. I’m doing this for me. “Yes,” she admitted, slumping her shoulders with a sigh. “Something very… important.” After that, she left them without saying another word. An hour and a half of walking down the path, treading through the forest and sneaking past all the enemies she saw on the way, Asuna stood before a structure inherently strange in design. It definitely reminded her she was in a stupid video game, at least. At the base of a massive tree, underneath its roots which were almost all longer than she was tall, there was a large opening that seemed to lead deeper underground. That was all well and good, but because the game couldn’t let itself be too realistic, beneath the tree’s roots on either side of the opening were two circular stone pillars which seemed to be propping it up to keep it from closing the entrance. This was it… it had to be here. It was the only thing in the entire forest that even remotely resembled a cave. Which meant that if the secret logout spot really did exist, this was the only place it could be. Asuna gulped in anticipation. “You know you need to be about level three around there, right?” That man’s words from earlier echoed through her mind, reminding her of the danger she was facing by coming here. But there was no turning back now. In order to escape in time for the mock exam, she’d have to get out in under an hour at this point. So she had to advance. Now more than ever, especially because of how dangerous it would be from here on out. It’s just a game, anyway. Why am I getting so worked up over this? How hard could it actually be? With that as a mental footnote in her quest, Asuna walked into the cave, slowly drawing her rapier from its scabbard at her waist as she walked. “I need to get… out of here.” Despite how it looked from a distance, the opening of the cave was tall enough that she didn’t even have to duck to get in. The path in front of her seemed to stretch on forever, even though she knew it realistically couldn’t be that big of a cave. Then again, it was a video game… they could break whatever laws of reality they wanted in here. As the light from the entrance grew dimmer and dimmer, Asuna noticed that the air around her looked weirdly… thick. Like it was in a haze all around her. And it smelled nasty, too. She didn’t want to breathe it in, but she couldn’t just hold her breath forever. When she was finally forced to take a breath, it felt like her body became weirdly… relaxed. The cave got hotter and more clammy the further into it she walked. Something was… off about it, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was. She could barely see even a foot in front of her at this point. In fact, it seemed like something was blocking her way. She reached out and felt it with her free hand, and it was… Squishy… and fuzzy. … Oh. Asuna’s eyes looked up and met with the gleaming golden eyes of a gigantic black-furred beast. With a bulky human body and the head of a wild dog, this massive enemy towered over Asuna so much it made her look tiny by comparison. In its right arm held high above its head, it wielded a massive club almost as long as she was tall, which— Oh no. Before she could even react, the club came crashing down into her side and hit her so hard it knocked her into the air and sent her flying back, bouncing across the ground until her battered body skidded to a stop. It felt like all the bones in her body were broken… she could barely move, no matter how hard she tried. There was a weird icon next to her HP readout, and she only had a sliver of HP left. Am I going to die? The massive monster slowly approached her, brandishing its huge club every few steps. It took its sweet time approaching her, like a wild dog slowly cornering its prey. It seemed to understand that Asuna couldn’t move, and it was intentionally drawing out her suffering. Before I’ve had the chance to do a single thing with my life…? Asuna’s life began flashing through her eyes as the monster closed in on her. She felt the bitterness and anger of knowing that she’d lived through fifteen years of hard work only for it to amount to nothing, her life over in a heartbeat, vanishing from the stage known as the world without leaving a single lasting mark on anything. But just before the beast swung its club down on her, she saw something incredible. Appearing out of nowhere from behind the monster, a girl who couldn’t have been any older than Asuna brought a shimmering golden blade crashing down through the monster, cutting it clean in half and killing it in a single blow. As its form shattered, for just an instant, Asuna got a good look at the girl who saved her. Her long, lustrous black hair had a radiant sheen to it, her figure was almost unfair, and her stunning violet eyes stared down at Asuna with an unreadable glint to them. And Asuna had never seen someone look so good dressed in all black before… Then just as quickly as it began, it ended when Asuna’s head lost the strength to support her and fell back to the ground. “It’s over,” the mysterious girl said in a deep, gentle voice. She sheathed her sword in a scabbard on her right waist, before kneeling down and patting Asuna’s head. “It’s gonna be okay. You can rest easy now.” She… went out of her way to comfort me. As the girl stood back up, another set of footsteps briskly approached the black-haired girl. “Heyo, nice work there! Gotta say, really gets under my skin that people are spreadin’ rumors usin’ my name.” The black-haired girl replied without missing a beat. “Being an informant is a rough gig, huh?” “Our newbie still kickin’?” The new entrance sat down in front of Asuna. Even without being able to see her, the chestnut-haired girl could feel she was being watched. “Oh nice, she is. Not by much, though~” Is she teasing her friend…? Asuna suddenly felt something get shoved into her mouth, and a sweet liquid started pouring down her throat. The cheeky girl staring at her simply said, “Here, drink this healing pot.” “Lay off. I had to no damage run this place if I didn’t want permanent debuffs,” the black-haired girl said as she walked past Asuna’s field of vision, towards the exit. “Anyway, I’m off. You can deal with your impostor yourself. I’d do a lot for you, but I’m not going orange.” The girl healing her shamelessly quipped back. “Aw, how sweet!~ No worries though, I got it covered.” “Don’t forget about our other arrangement. Catch you later.” And just like that, Asuna’s savior left. She saved the fifteen-year-old’s life like it was the easiest thing in the world, comforted her, and then disappeared in a flash. And in the singular moment their eyes met, she shone so brightly that nothing compared. Just like… Like a shooting star. When Asuna’s chestnut eyes next fluttered open, the first thing she noticed was that she hadn’t had a nightmare this time. How long had she even been asleep, anyway? She checked the time readout in the corner of her vision and realized she was out for around twenty minutes. If the logout spot really existed, she’d need to use it as soon as possible if she hoped to take the exam… As she continued to wake up, she realized her crotch felt damp. So she’d went in her sleep… again. But unlike every other time she wet the bed, the rest of Asuna’s clothes felt perfectly dry. Why was that? And her underwear felt… quite a bit bulkier than normal, for some reason. She reached a hand down and felt underneath her skirt, only to find that her underwear… well, wasn’t her underwear. It felt totally different from what she’d put on when she left the inn. Almost like— “Oh, looks like yer awake now, huh?” a familiar, cheeky voice said with a unique nasal inflection. Asuna nearly jumped out of her skin at the realization that she wasn’t alone. But then she realized — she’d been taken out of the cave. Her underwear had been replaced by something else. She’d been sleeping while sitting down, leaning against a rock, as opposed to the floor of the cave she’d passed out on. The odds that all this just happened automatically without the help of anyone else were abysmal. The voice called out again, coming from behind her, probably on top of the rock. “You feelin’ better now? The potion I gave you had a little somethin’ extra in it to help you with the pain.” So whatever this girl had Asuna drink, it was spiked with something. That must’ve been why she wet herself in her sleep again without even having a nightmare. But then why didn’t the rest of her clothes feel wet…? What had this person done to her underwear? Asuna lifted up her skirt, and the sight that greeted her was one she never expected to see. This person had put her in a cloth diaper, with a star-patterned snap-up cover. She wanted to get mad, to ask what happened to the underwear she’d been wearing before, but… well, considering she’d already used it after having only been out for twenty minutes, the other girl had made the right call putting her in this babyish thing. “Oh, right,” the girl answered her thoughts upon seeing the look on the diapered girl’s face. “Take it from me, after takin’ that much damage in that cave and healin’ with a numbin’ potion, you don’t wanna take any chances. I put yer old underwear back in yer storage though, no worries.” Asuna sighed. She didn’t understand this person’s reasons, but they seemed to know more about the game than she did, so she’d just have to take their word for it. Come to think of it… her savior called this person… “The girl who saved me… she called you an ‘informant,’” the chestnut-haired girl replied. “What’s that mean?” Asuna looked back at the other girl out of the corner of her eye, and saw that she was wearing some pretty ratty looking clothes, and had whisker marks on her face. Like a cat… or maybe a rat? Those people in the Town of Beginnings seemed to place stock in the intel that game from someone who went by the “Rat.” The whiskered girl smiled a laid back smile. “What it sounds like. My job is buying and selling information. I gather all kinds of info, then provide it at a reasonable price. If it benefits the public, I spread it… or if needed, I bury it forever.” Her job… was buying and selling information? Was this the Rat the people back in town mentioned, then? No, wait… back in the cave, this person mentioned having an impostor spreading false rumors using her name. So which one was she…? What are the lies… and what is the truth? This is just like— Asuna chuckled grimly. “How weird. This is a game… but it feels like reality.” “Of course it does. This is our reality now.” The whiskered girl met her eyes with a cold stare. Of course someone like her would see it that way. Asuna’s eyes hit the ground as she faced forward again. “Miss informant… is the ‘hidden logout spot…’ just a false rumor?” There was a pause. Asuna could feel she was being watched. She clutched the hem of her skirt anxiously the longer the silence lasted, before the informant finally ended the suspense. “Sorry. There’s no such thing.” Never had the simple late autumn breeze felt so chilling to the bone. As Asuna crossed her arms for warmth, her eyes narrowed and she made up her mind. “In that case… please sell me some info.” Her left hand curled into a fist as she recalled the feeling of helplessness as she realized she was about to die in the cave. She remembered how it felt needing to be saved by someone she didn’t even know, whose beauty shone like a shooting star crashing down to earth as she killed the monster that nearly felled Asuna in a single hit. To prevent something like that from happening again… “I want to know how to get stronger.” The informant replied without missing a beat. “Is that in order to survive longer?” Asuna shook her head, as images of her savior flashed through her mind, of the back she’d soon be chasing after. “No. It’s so that I don’t ever regret anything again.” “Hmm,” the informant hummed along, taking Asuna’s resolute words as casual as could be. “Then you’ll want this.” A moment later, a window appeared in front of Asuna. The informant’s hand pointed to a button press. She seemed to want the girl to press the circle button. When the chestnut-haired girl finally did, a small booklet bound together by leather string suddenly materialized into the air above her hands, and she caught it just in time. The cover had a rat-like icon, and next to that, the title read: “SAO Strategy Guide 1F: Field Area” At the bottom, it said it was compiled and written by “Argo.” As if on cue, the whiskered informant withdrew her hand and said, “It’s my strategy guide for the first floor of SAO. Think of it like a reference manual. Free, just for you.” Asuna abruptly stood up as she caught sight of one of the boars she’d been trying to hide from on her way here. She instinctively opened the booklet she’d just been given, flipping through its pages until she saw a page which had a picture of this monster. “«Frenzied Boar»… non-active?” she read a part of the page aloud before leafing through the pages to the term’s citation and reading further. “Oh. If I don’t attack it first, it won’t target me.” Asuna suppressed the urge to sigh. “The source of data and prerequisites are somewhat vague. Did the author test this information to determine its accuracy? Still, it’s a good guide for a starting player. Well-indexed, plenty of notes, even images and diagrams.” Argo watched on in stunned silence as the fruit of her labor was dissected by a complete newbie, not quite sure how to feel about it. But this girl was a fast learner, huh? She never stayed on one subject for very long. She went from monsters to monster types to the entry for her starting weapon in a matter of seconds, then drew hers and— “Oh. It worked.” Argo did a double take as she processed the fact that this girl went from reading through her guide book to using a skill to kill her first monster in one hit faster than she could even see the newbie move. That was fast! Almost as fast as Kiriko, even…! The chestnut-haired girl held up her rapier and stared at it. “Well then. I can do it after all.” Argo’s jaw went slack for just an instant before she regained her senses. She smirked, realizing this player’s information would become quite valuable as the game progressed. She couldn’t just let her up and leave like this, it’d be like passing up the chance for free money! “I take it back. No longer free,” Argo said, rubbing her hands together greedily. “As my fee, tell me yer name.” The girl looked over her way and didn’t seem bothered by this request at all. “My name? It’s Asuna Yuuki.” It was safe to say Argo got more than she bargained for, being told this person’s real name. She… she’d just pretend to forget that… “Wait, sorry, newbie! I meant yer player name!” “Ah. Just Asuna, then,” the girl replied, not seeming to understand why what she just said was not good. That she used her real name as her player name… Argo would pretend she forgot that, too. “So that’s yer player name, too,” Argo sighed. “When anyone in here mentions name, they mean your player name. I’ll forget that piece of info, just be careful from now on.” Not one second after Argo finished talking and her newbie friend finished nodding along, she went back to using «Linear» on a new boar spawn, killing this one in one hit too with perfect fencing form, making Argo wonder if she’d even been paying attention the whole time. Still… Argo thought to herself as she watched Asuna slay boar after boar for practice. Asuna the fencer, huh? She’ll go far. Argo could feel it. The day would come when this girl caught up to the top players in the game and earned herself a fantastic nickname. When that time came, Argo could sell this day’s events for a hefty price. And not just to other top players like Kiriko. People the game over would want in on this… “Hey… miss informant,” Asuna’s voice called out to her, as she paused to catch her breath between kills. “Do you think I could defeat that monster from before, the way I am now?” Argo had to stifle a chuckle. She really hadn’t realized it yet, had she? Well, Argo mused, that just makes it more interesting. The Rat couldn’t help but wonder which piece of info would sell for more when this one became famous. The story of how Asuna started out, or the fact that if she didn’t pay closer attention to the drawbacks of visiting certain dungeons, she’d end up in diapers full-time before she knew it? So yeah, here’s chapter one for you. There’s more where that came from, by the way! Once I’m done with chapter five, expect me to release chapter two ASAP! Shouldn’t take too long, I’m already around 3k words into it with the first scene alone and that scene isn’t even over and done with, but yeah, expect me to try and keep a pretty consistently fast release schedule while I keep the momentum going. Until next time, feel free to leave your thoughts, comments and critiques in the comments. Catch you next time!

View File EasternCanadaDL From a Pornhub user called EasternCanadaDL. Unfortunately her account seemingly disappeared, but I saved all her vids before it was gone. Most are wetting, but some have messing. Hope y'all enjoy! Submitter Hooded-Plush Submitted 03/27/2020 Category Female  

This is a story I have written based very loosely on real events and real people. Names have been changed (obviously) and most of it is pulled out of my own imagination. Not all of it though. Hope you enjoy. Its also my first story so any constructive feedback is appreciated to help me find my writing style. This story contains female wetting and messing. If there is any demand, I might release a version without the messing. It's not full on scat though. You have been warned. Part 1. The start of something beautiful. It was a glorious day when it happened. I was on a diving course, 11 guys and one girl learning to be commercial scuba divers through Herriot Watt University. 12 students in Orkney pissing up at night and diving all day. Naturally everyone gave Samantha a ridiculous amount of attention, all accept my own introverted self. Imagine my surprise at being buddied with her by the instructors. Lucky or what? And she was beautiful. Long raven black hair, mischievous brown eyes, full lips capable of the cutest little pout or the wickedest grin. And the body. At my 1.8 meters she stood as tall as my nose. Slight, tight little body, smallish breasts, legs showing off her runners physique and an ass that would give Kylie Minogue a run for her money. At 22 she was perfect. And normally I couldn't get near her. With all the others sniffing round, not to mention the instructors and the locals in Stromness where we were staying, I never stood a chance. Then the last week of May I got paired with her out of this blue. My previous buddy with hers. On the Wednesday it happened it was a normal day at the beach, week 3 of the five week course. Weather was dry and warm, or at least as warm as May got in Orkney. I had chatted more with her in three days than the time previous. I'd found out that she had a large family, was from the south of England and preferred metal music much like my own tastes. She was single and concentrating on the course then her final year at university. And she was fucking perfect. Stunning, funny, smart...... I was in love, no doubt about it. We were dressed in our usual rig for drysuit diving. Both in thermals, sweats and tee-shirts. Neither of us looked our best, hair and cloths damp and plastered all over after the first dive of the day. We were relaxing near the minibus having a light lunch waiting the hour or so before our next dive. As we lounged I could see her glance off to the small building at the end of the field we were currently in that contained the toilets we could use. I had learned (as I tend to note these things) that she would be visiting as soon as we were finished eating. She wasn't dancing yet but wasn't far off. We chatted, not about anything in particular but just generic chat designed to pass time. The kind of small talk that normally I hated. Like I said. Introvert. My other dive partner had learned to just let me eat and sit in quiet until we were ready to go in the water again. Not Sam though. She always wanted to talk. We finished our lunch and I expected her to shoot off for a visit to the lady's room but, as the conversation had turned to movies (a passion of mine) I had become more "animated" (as she later put it) so she decided to hold off. She was starting to fidget now but we still had 45 or so minutes. Or so we thought. A shout startled us from our talk about the merits of Indy 3 over 1. The radio had gone off. The boat was on the way back. The current two pairs had been kicked out the water by the lead instructor, Alex. They were coming in and he was pissed. Get ready, we are diving immediately. I saw a look of panic flash across Sam's face. She glanced to the toilets then back to me. "Do you think I have time?" she asked. I frowned. Glancing to sea I could see the rib already bouncing across the waves. "Maybe if you hurry?" She smiled gratefully (what a smile) and went to run off "Oy! You two get down the beach now, Al is coming in and sounds displeased". Robby, another instructor scuppered all her hopes with a single yell. She gave the toilets a longing stare then joined me in jogging to the beach. As the rib pulled up we lined up with the other students as Alex jumped out the boat and stormed up the beach. Que a 10 minute rant about standards, care and attention, awareness and anything else that popped into his head. Threats for 24 hr dive bans for all on top of the bans he handed out on the way in. All over the class idiot (my ex dive buddy) who had wily coyoted into the bottom trying a rapid decent. And though all of it Sam continued to squirm and fidget more and more. Nothing major yet, little flexes like she started to hold herself, a slow foot tap, a slight bead of sweat. Anyone else wouldn't have noticed but I saw the signs. When he finished his rant he glared at us. "Get your stuff and be geared up in 5”. I watched her face drop. No time to do anything. Not even to go behind the van and "pop a squat". She was in trouble now. In silence we jogged back to our spot, all our gear laid out. She eyed our suits. "Stu, I need to go to the loo. Please. I’m desperate." She was pleading with me. I glanced around. Fuck it. For her I could take another bollicking for being a few minutes late. "Quick, go behind the van, I can keep watch" I replied. "I can't!" She a hissed at me. She saw the confusion and hurt in my face. "Sorry, but I need more that a pee. I can't. Not hear. Help me please." "Ok. Run to the loo. I will tell Al we will be late. He can't ban all his dive teams for the day. Just hurry" "Thank you" she gushed as she turned to run off. "Oy! You two. Clock is ticking." She spun on the spot "Fuck you Rob" she cursed while looking around for some miraculous third option. "Just go" I said but she just smiled weakly as she grabbed her suit. "You know what he's like. He can and will ban all his teams and fuck us. Our own fault. Don't worry, I think I will be ok. After all, I'm an honour student. We don't have accidents. Come on. Its not that bad. A quick 30 min under then that’s us for the day." In silence we rigged up. Suit on, zipped up, set and weights strapped in place, hood, mask, the whole nine yards. As we walked down carrying fins and gloves, I could see the sweat on her head that had nothing to do with the gear. Waving to the other team ready to go we pushed through the surf to the boat. As we climbed in I could see her tense up. She saw my worried glance and shook her head slightly. Her breathing slowed as she concentrated on maintaining her poise and dignity. The ride out was the worst. Alex wasn't going slow as we bounced across the rising tide to the 21m marker bouy. Even I felt the jolts in my half empty bladder. As I looked up against the spray I saw her holding her breath, eyes screwed shut. As we slowed to the spot she started gasping. Her eyes flew open and she startled as she reached out and grabbed my arm. I saw a small tear roll down her cheek as she grimaced. She was starting to loose control. "Go" was the single barked command from Alex so we donned mask, gloves and fin before slipping into the water. We didn't hang around. A single fast decent to 21 meters, eyes glued to our gauges, gripping on to our survey gear to carry out a static photography survey of the bottom. I have to hand it to Sam. If it had been me I wouldn't have been anywhere near as co-ordinated. At the bottom we came to a perfect rest 1 meter off the bottom. In the distance was the slowly settling cloud of silt from the first team who incurred Alex's wrath for not being as slick at depth control. The second team was already swimming off, Alex in tow for their navigation exercise. We were alone for now. I grabbed my slate and pencil "You ok?" I wrote. She gave me the thumbs up signal signifying no problem. Not what I meant. We had already exchanged the standard check signals post decent. I pointed to my slate again. I could see her look at me across the half meter gap between us. "Lets get on with it" was her scribbled reply. I searched her eyes through our masks trying to tell but nothing. I shrugged and readied the gear. Fastest survey ever. 15 minutes we were done even with a few pauses by Sam. We finished and immediately ascended to the surface throwing our loose gear into the rib. As we clung on to the side, I whispered to her. "How you doing?" "I don't know. I think I might have peed a little. It might be the suit." Wishful thinking. I know her suit. Leaks at the wrists and left calf. Nothing crotch or thighs. "Don't worry about it." I whispered back. "10 min we will be back in. The other team should be up soon. Let’s climb in." She glanced at me with a smile that was difficult to figure out the emotion behind it. Then I realised. There was no way she would be able to climb into the rib without loosing control. "Uh... Just wait." I said sheepishly. I pulled myself in. Once in I gestured for her to pass me her set and belt. She slipped out of it and gratefully passed it to me. After pulling it in to the amused stare of Ian (todays boat driver) I offered my hands to her. With no gear or weights she was easy to pull up high enough that she could sit outboard of the boat and swing her legs in. Even that cost her. As Ian looked back to the expected surface point of team 2 I saw her drop to her knees, grabbing herself with both hands. She looked up to me with a look of such anguish that I nearly cracked right there. I dropped down next to her and put an arm around her. "Just a little bit longer. Those idiots will be up any minute. Bang into shore then you can go to the loos. Don't worry bout your gear. I've got it." "Thanks" she said through gritted teeth. Eyes screwed up she was breathing hard now, still clutching with both hands. She tried to straighten up, tried to slow her breathing but I could tell it was getting past the point of control. Embarrassed for her I stood up and joined Ian in looking out for team 2, giving her some of the privacy to regain control she must have so desperately wanted. After a few minutes they surfaced about 150m from the boat. Ian grinned and gunned the engine into lift. The rib vibrated as he set off, the sudden acceleration taking its toll judging from the gasp behind me. By the time we got to the three forms bobbing in the waves Sam had regained composure. Sitting on her heel on the back bench of the rib she was a picture of calm. Her red eyes explained by the saltwater that had us all a little bloodshot. Wet hair plastered down one side of her flushed face. A slightly sad smile on her lips. Her beauty really struck me then. God, even almost past the point of no return she managed to look hotter than hell. I joined in helping pull the team in then sat between them and Sam. As we drove for the shore (more sedately than the rollercoaster ride out) she leaned against my back, resting her forehead between my shoulder blades. Over the twin engines and the sound of wind and surf I heard her speak. "Thanks" was all she could say. After we pulled up, everyone piled out but us. Gear was pulled out around us and Ian gave us a look but I waved him off as they all disappeared up to the field. Behind me Sam stirred "Sorry about this Stuart." She whispered. As she stood up it seemed like she was going to try one last attempt to hold on but she was defeated. With a single sob she stood tall and finally her grip on her bladder broke. Even through the suit I could hear the hissing as she let go. Her face flushed red as she once again screwed her eyes shut. After about 10-15 seconds I saw her relax and the expression changed to one of bliss as the hissing increased. For an eternity I looked at her as she wet herself. I could imagine the hot pee jetting out of her, soaking panties, long johns and joggers to pool in the feet of her suit. I couldn't look away if you paid me. The bliss on her face was perfect, right down to the slight bite on her lip. When she finally stopped we stood for another minute lost in our own world. Then her eyes flew open. She grabbed at me. "Help me get to shore. Now" she commanded "Ok, grab your set and I'll......" "No" she cut me off. "I told you... I need more than a pee" she finished in a quiet little voice. Oh. Yeh. "Ummm, ok. Here". I jumped out the boat, our gear forgotten. I offered my hand and helped her up the beach and to the entrance of the field. 150 or so meters was the loo block (and a single lockable shower) and her salvation from complete humiliation. We slowly made our way up the dirt track, past all the others now relaxing before group 3s final dive, past the vans. As we passed our spot she barked "bag" and I grabbed her bag with its change of clothes. We carried on to the small brick building before us but it was too late. As we rounded the side to the entrance (thankfully now shielded from view) she stopped dead. Stiffening up, the grip on my arm tightened up to beyond painfully. Even through my drysuit I could feel her nails dig in as the last bit of control left her. She gasped and doubled over. She was now clutching at her ass with her free hand, thrust between her legs. She groaned and went red in the face. At this point I wasn't even sure if she was still fighting or just getting it all out, finishing completely going to the toilet in her outfit. She stayed like that for several minutes, breathing hard, slightly hunched up, tears slowly streaming down her cheeks. After and age she slowly released her grip on me then straightened up. "Fuck. Why today?" she gasped. "Why now?" She looked up at me "why you?" She asked before bursting into tears. She clutched me and without thinking I pulled her into a tight hug. "It’s ok" I whispered into her ear. "It’s ok. It happens. It’s ok". We clung together for several minutes her sobbing and me just saying anything to make her feel better, telling her its ok over and over. As she finally regained composure she pushed me off. "Stop. This isn't ok. Not even close. This doesn't just happen to girls my age. To no one my age. FUCK" a final shout to vent her feelings. She turned to leave but I reached out and grabbed her shoulder. "Don't be stupid" I said to her clear surprise. "You’re hardly the first person to have an accident you know. You probably aren't even the last in Scotland this hour. It ok" "Oh come on. How many other people do you know who has even had such a humiliating accident as this?" She asked. I decided to go for broke. "You think this is humiliating?" I asked "try wetting yourself in front of about 100 or so people. At least I'm the only one to know and I won't be telling anyone about this, I swear." She looked at me now with curiosity. "When did you do that?" "Download festival last summer. A day of drinking, running to the massive que for the porta loos and not making in in time. Light urban combats that went dark and clinging when wet. Everyone saw, everyone laughed. That was humiliating. Trust me, this doesn't compare." "Wow" was all she could say, eyes wide. Then her face slid into her naughty little grin. "Ok. You may have me beat on the humiliation scale but at least you didn't crap yourself. Or did you?" "Not then no" was my grinned reply. "Wait, so when did you then?" Dammit. I let that slip. I sighed. "Also last year. Not drunk, just coming off antibiotics that had me stopped up. I finished the course and so did nature. I was out shopping when I just had to go. Nothing nearby and by the time I got to a nearby MacDonnalds it was too late. Luckily I was wearing loose combats again and at least I didn't pee myself. I managed to hide it, walked back to my car and drove home sat on a plastic bag." She goggled at the last bit "That must have been.......a sticky situation." With that lame joke she burst into laughter that had her bending over again clutching at her stomach. At least she wasn't crying again. Her laughter was infectious. I started to giggle. "Laugh it up" I said. "You’re the one who still has a clean-up operation to do." She straightened up and looked at me, eyes full of tears of mirth instead of embarrassment. She sobered up a bit, clearly worried again. "Look," I started. "Your suit will need a wash. Whip it off and chuck us it hear. I'll wash it under the hose and leave it to dry inside out. No one will know. You can clean up and change in the shower. If anyone asks about your behaviour just tell them you felt sick and had to run." That evil little grin again. "Whip it off you say? How daring Stu. If I didn't know better I'd say you just wanted to see me all wet and messy." "What makes you think I don't?" I replied, a mischievous grin of my own. Then I froze as her eyes widened. Shit, did I just say that? Her eyes narrowed as she turned away. She glanced back over her shoulder, face split with a grin again. "Unzip me" she purred. I gulped and stepped up. One smooth motion and her suit was opened up. She bent over to let her pull the top off her head. As she stood up she whipped her hair back. She glanced back. "Thanks" she said before starting to bend over again. This time she slowly peeled off the suit. What a sight. As it pulled down passed her clingy black T-shirt her grey sweats were exposed. From halfway up to her waist band all the way down to the cuffs, the thick, drenched and darkened material clung to her body. The contours of her perfect ass with its bulge the size of a softball, of her shapely legs free to view. As she stepped out of the legs the sucking sound as her soaked cotton socks pulled free from the small pool in each made her giggle again. Her scent hit me next. A soft smell of girl pee with a darker earthy undercut of her poop. Not unpleasant. Not at all. She spun round almost bouncing in place. "Whats the damage she asked, looking down at herself now, trying to twist on the spot to assess everything. From the front it was glorious. Her wet clothes clinging tight against her body, soaked out almost to her hips, only a thin strip down the outside dry and safe. I gulped again. Then grinned at her. "Apart from a bulge and the obvious wetness, nothing visible on the joggers. They might get away with just a rinse for now. Whip them off" I said in my most commanding voice. She mock glared at me, eyes flashing with a curious and unexpected intent that was becoming more obvious to both of use as the scenario played out. "Hmmm. I think your right" she spun to face away again and put her hands to the waistband. Again, the slow sensual peel off of the wet material. Underneath, her tight longjohns we dark red all over, beads of pee being released to run down the saturated material by her movements. The bulge, much more obvious, was nestled between her peachy little cheeks, still no staining visible to further darken the material. She kicked off the sweats to a damp heap on top of her suit. "Done" she said with a breathy voice, spinning around, her breathing fast and shallow now, matching my own. Both of us were getting flushed again and if it wasn't for my suit still zipped around my body, my excitement would be obvious for anyone who cared to look. And from her quick glances she was trying to look. "Long johns next" I almost whispered to her. She nodded and turned denying me the view of the tight red material clinging to her, contouring her pussy perfectly. As her hands moved to her waistband she paused. This would be the big one for her, for both of us. She started to pull then stopped, glanced back at me. Her eyes held a strange expression as she saw the obvious hunger in my own eyes. She turned away again and the tight thermals started their slow decent down her legs. The light blue lacy waistband preceded her now translucent white cotton French knickers. A large dark solid mass of poop dragging them down slightly now they were free from the thermals keeping everything tight against her smooth milky white skin. As she bent further over the mass hid anything else from view but who was I to complain. Her legs were as perfect as I imagined marred only by a thin scar on her right calf. Muscles flexed as she was now bent fully over before pulling first one leg then the other free of her last layer and her socks. She stood up suddenly spinning and, in one smooth move, pulled off her T-shirt as she stood. Again the hair whipped back (who doesn't love the long wet hair look) and her tight, toned flat stomach and abs were exposed above her panties, the tight dark strip of her pubic hair visible seeming to invite the eyes down to her lips below. My eyes dragged up, her arms now folded just below the swell of her b cup breasts, pushing those perky mounds together under a matching white cotton bra trimmed in blue lace. Her nipples where obvious, hardened and proud under the tight material. She shook her head, letting her hair fall to brush against them, the wetness dampening and tuning the bra as tantalisingly see through as the panties. Nipples small and dark against the white skin. Her face was red as she looked at me, watching me take it all in. Eventually our eyes met. "Stunning" I breathed. Her blush deepened. "Im like a naughty little girl, wet and messy" she replied, eyes down. "Never. I don't think I've ever seen anything so beautiful as you look now." She smiled back up to me. Her arms separated and she stepped into my offered embrace. Our lips met, the kiss soft at first but swiftly developing into a fierce, lust filled move. My hands ran down her back and through her hair, pulling her into a deeper kiss. Her leg moved up my hip to circle around me and my other hand dropped lower. Cupping her ass, fingers brushed against her bulge. That was enough to push it against her sweet little rose bud. She pulled back. "Do it" she moaned as she dove back into the kiss. I wasted no time in cupping the bulge of her firm movement, squashing it slightly, mashing it up against her ass. Still kissing I felt rather than heard her moan again. Her pussy was grinding down onto my thigh now, both her hands around my back and shoulders pulling herself in tighter and tighter. We were lost to the world right then. Even as I felt her tense up, her breath coming in short ragged gasps, I felt my own orgasm start to build just from her rubbing against my body, my erection tight between us under my now cursed suit. As she clung to me, shaking in her release I heard a hissing as the final remnants of her bladder released. My probing fingers pushed deeper, catching the last of her stream through her panties. As my finger tips brushed her waiting lips below she squealed as a second orgasm hit her. Her back arched, head pulled away from me, exposing her breasts again, her pee running down my suit. I didn't hold back and gasped as my own release hit me like a train. As cum pumped into my briefs I bit back my own yell as Sam gasped loudly, panting as she started to come down from her cloud of bliss. We clung together for what seemed like an hour. Eventually she looked up at me. She almost looked ready to cry. "God. You have no idea how much I wanted this. Maybe not like this, but me and you." Her voice was deep from her short breath as she pushed her face into my chest. "For my first time I wanted it to be you. I liked you since we met. The others all think they can spin a gash little story and get into me but you never tried that. Never would. I could tell you were shy but interested. I wanted you. I hoped being buddys could lead to something. I never imagined it would be like or as good as that though" "This scenario wasn't on the cards then?" "No" she snorted with laughter. Then she turned her head up to me. "It's not something that turns you off is it?" "Let's just say this could be something we could explore together maybe". She grinned. That cheeky little grin that turns me to jelly. "Hmmm. Maybe. I might need to shop for more underwear though if I keep this up though. And you". I nodded. "When you said first?" "Umm. Yeh." She looked down and away. "I'm 22. It must be weird to still be a virgin". I pulled her back into a hug. "Not really. I’m the same age and not exactly a top shagger." Another snort of laughter. "I'm not a virgin but I'm not that experienced. Two girlfriends to date and with neither did I dare share what we just did" "Well, me anyway" Sam said, pushing off me again. She stepped back, letting me look at her again. "I expect catch up" she growled in mock fierceness, her finger jabbing at my chest. All I could do was nod, once again struck dumb by her beauty. "Tonight. Tonight we get some dinner, just us, then we find a quiet pub in town and see were the night goes. Sound good?" she finished, bouncing again slightly on the balls of her bare feet, still standing in the small puddle of her second "accident". "Dinner. Drinks to charge up, then catch up. I think I can do that. Then, maybe another first?" A coy little look in reply, eyes flashing under dark lashes. "It's a date!" She said before grabbing her nearby bag and dodging into the shower unit to clean up, leaving me to handle the rest. ______________________________________________________________________________________ More to come. Next chapter will be a first, very wet, date.

View File BabyAshton3 Messing Clips I was goofing around on Twitter and I found the account of Baby Ashton who has posted quite a few messing clips! Here is the account for anyone who wants to say Hi: https://twitter.com/BabyAshton3 Submitter cheese142 Submitted 03/19/2020 Category Female  

Currently stuck in quarantine, so I've had some time for writing. I have several ideas for one-shots I'm working on. This is one of them. Also, Three Sisters is a play by Chekhov. This has absolutely nothing to do with that. It doesn't even contain a Chekhov's gun. But it is about three sisters. Janet’s three daughters had learned her golden rule at a young age: public restrooms were no proper place for a lady to relieve herself. Janet was an eccentric, and probably suffered from an undiagnosed, but severe anxiety disorder. She always wore flowery hippie dresses with patterns inspired by Indian art and psychedelics, and often walked around nude in the house, even when she had guests—which accounts for her eccentricity. But her strange habits had a darker side. She could not leave the house without completing an elaborate ritual involving touching a sequence of household objects: bedroom doorknob (three times), stove (once, even if it was hot; she had the burn scars to prove it), bathroom doorknob (twice), a shelf which she had deliberately hung askew (four times), and so on. Sometimes, she suffered strange impulses, like the compulsive desire to bend down and grab a handful of sand or gravel off the ground and sift it through her fingers. Her daughters loved her, and mostly dismissed their mother’s strange habits as a kind of benign superstition, in the way that children do. After all, aren’t mothers supposed to be invincible? But certain habits rubbed off on them, certain beliefs which were close enough to ordinary that they seemed eminently sensible, even if their mother took them a step further than most parents. One of these beliefs was the absolute avoidance of public restrooms. Each daughter developed her own strategy to deal with the unfortunate fact that the body’s waste elimination system does not halt in the face of a stalwart belief that almost all the relevant facilities in the world are strictly off limits. Amber was the oldest, and so she had to learn how to deal with her mother’s rules without the guidance or example of her siblings. She had decided on a strategy which was simple and obvious, but came with complications: if you have to go, just go. Her mother didn’t mind that her daughter had accidents when she couldn’t hold it, so Amber learned to have deliberate “accidents.” It was not the mere lack of cleanliness in public restrooms that Janet objected to. It was rather a deeper, pathological and rigid belief in what was and was not proper, especially for a lady, and all Janet’s daughters were ladies, even when they were still in diapers. Public ladies’ rooms were spiritually unclean. Unfit for true ladies. But Janet’s daughters were spiritually pure, in her eyes, and so was anything that came out of them. Even if, by society’s standards, they were smelly, messy, dirty. Going to the bathroom in your underwear was the obvious solution, in a certain way, perhaps even the most elegant. It was natural, primal. But Amber couldn’t deny that it came with inconveniences, both practical and social. Thankfully, she’d had more than two decades worth of practice in how to deal with them. She often wore skirts or dresses, and when she did, she could just squat down in such a way that she only peed through her panties, holding up the hem of her skirt discreetly to avoid wetting it—she had it down to a fine art, the exact angle she needed to hold while seated or squatting, so as to minimize the risk of any stains. She knew how to move, how to sit and how to stand in wet panties so as to minimize discomfort—wet wedgies were no fun—and seep-through. When she wore jeans, she couldn’t avoid a visible stain, but she knew that if she squatted down and released in a controlled manner, she could keep the damage local, around the middle of her crotch and parts of her bum. She’d trained herself to release only enough to relieve the pressure; between one-third and one-half of her bladder was enough to get her at least a couple of hours, by which time it would have begun to dry and she could rewet. Amber often kept an extra sweater or jacket in her purse, just something small enough to fit but large enough that she could tie it around her waist and mostly get away with it. To minimize smell, she kept well hydrated, which was perhaps also why she couldn’t just stop having accidents, even if they weren’t quite “accidents”. Her purse also contained what she jokingly referred to as her “bum and crotch spray,” a certain perfume which she’d found through trial and error masked the smell of urine which would otherwise have clung to her, without clashing with her deodorant or other perfume. As for number twos, well, those were not exactly a walk in the park to deal with, but she kept herself regular and they were rarely a problem in public. But if they did become a problem on a rare occasion, well, Amber could have taught a class in ladies’ etiquette: how to walk with poise and purpose with a load in your pants and a smile on your face. Her husband-to-be had been left dumbfounded when, on their third date, a romantic walk in the park, Amber had excused herself and walked behind a bush. She had re-emerged with a small wet spot between her legs, and nonchalantly fished out a sweater from her purse and tied it around her waist. Once secured, it fell perfectly to obscure the small peach-sized stain in the front and the little half-moon on her bum. “Did you just pee yourself?” Mark asked. “I just had to have a little accident to relieve the pressure,” Amber said. She was, of course, aware by this point in her life that other people found her habit strange, but she’d been raised as a free spirit, and privately wondered why other people didn’t do as she did. Besides, she’d found that making a big deal out of thing was what made things a big deal in the first place. Some girls had teased her about her accidents, especially in high school, but they’d found no enjoyment in it as long as Amber maintained a perfect nonchalance about the whole thing. “But there’s a restroom right there!” Mark said, exasperated. He pointed to a little building not fifty meters away. “How can it be an accident when you deliberately walked past the bathroom to go pee in your clothes in a bush?” Amber felt her fists clench, her face flush. Her previous boyfriend had left her over this, and romance was perhaps the one area where she could not will her reality to become real. She stomped a foot into the ground, and she cursed her eyes for the betrayal when she felt tears begin to form. She would not cry: It had been a long time since anyone had made her cry over an accident. But she really liked Mark, and that asshole Aaron had dumped her for reasons that were very much to do with the habits her mother had instilled in her, and this was all too much. “I. Do. Not. Use. Public. Restrooms!” She yelled. “They’re unclean, you understand? It was an accident because I couldn’t have held on until we got home and I couldn’t go to the restroom because it’s a public restroom and I do not use public restrooms because they’re unclean and unfit for a lady!” The words were spilling out of her in rapid succession and with little care for natural pauses or sentence structure. “I’m sorry I ruined our date, you go date some hot chick who doesn’t piss her pants if you like!” She finished, just as the first tears began to fall. But Mark hadn’t left. He’d slowly teased out some of the background for her phobia of public bathrooms, and he sympathized. Amber was everything he’d ever wanted, and if he couldn’t deal with this, well, he didn’t deserve her. He’d taken her into his arms, rubbed the tears off her cheeks, and bought her ice cream. Over time, he’d pieced together the puzzle that was Amber—meeting her mother had been a revelation and a half. And he’d taken it in stride, even become an accomplice in her cover-ups. Neither of them had expected to find that, when she was wet, Amber was especially sensitive, and after the first time he rubbed her off after an “accident”, Mark was in love. Well, in lust. He’d already been in love with everything else about her. Now they were planning a wedding, three years after that fateful date. First, though, was a trip with Amber and her sisters. The excuse was that they needed to be sure he was fit to be her husband, as if he were some suitor in an old-timey play, but in reality, they had met many times before and had long since decided that he was a good match. Really they were just going on a weekend trip together for fun. Mark wasn’t quite sure whether Amber would have agreed to marry him if her sisters hadn’t given their enthusiastic consent; the three of them were nearly inseparable, which he secretly attributed to the fact that they’d been brought up together in a world apart, slightly off-center of ordinary society. Janet, the girls’ mother, had recently passed away from cancer, which seemed only to strengthen their resolve to adhere to the rules she had laid down for them as children. It’s like that with children and strict parents: once the parent passes away, some children are finally free of their influence, while others renew their commitment to their parent’s memory with vigor. Amber and her sisters were the latter kind. Traveling with three adult women who refuse to even consider using a public toilet was going to be somewhat of a challenge. But Mark was prepared to do everything in his power to make it fun and take it all in stride. He wanted them to have a few days in which the death of their mother, the woman who raised them alone in her own world of paranoia, but also of joy, would not be the foremost thing on their minds. Mark and Amber picked up the middle sister, Marlene, at her apartment. She was named after Marlene Dietrich, the actress and singer, a favorite of her mother’s. Marlene was perhaps the one who had inherited the most eccentric of her mother’s genes. Taking after her namesake, she liked wearing jazz-age outfits and kept a cigarette holder in her purse, which she would only use for the occasional drag of a cigarette purely for aesthetic reasons, as she didn’t normally smoke. Today, however, she’d dressed refreshingly ordinary, in jeans and a white top. “Gotta get comfortable for the trip,” she said. The youngest sister, Jasmine, had slept over at Mark and Amber’s home. She went by Jazzy and was all of twenty years and relentlessly ready for the world. An energy bomb once she’d had her morning coffee, a talker for the ages, and all-around busybody. Today she was dressed in a pink miniskirt that just about covered her underwear, a black punk t-shirt and an almost iridescent red lipstick that was warring with her freckles for dominance over her face. She hadn’t had her coffee yet, though, and Mark found it endearing to see her actually yawn. He didn’t think he could remember seeing her this subdued ever, aside from the period immediately prior to and following her mother’s death. “Everybody powder their noses and, uh, stuff?” Mark asked before they pulled out. He felt a trickle of sweat slide down his neck and hoped he didn’t have to deal with any accidents this trip. He could deal with Amber, but Amber was his fiancee, and it felt like an intimacy he couldn’t share with her sisters. “All ready,” said Marlene. “Yup!” chirped Jazzy. “Let’s go,” Amber said, and they were off. All three sisters shared a phobia of public restrooms, but their approaches to dealing with the problem were very different. Marlene could not stand accidents, and she held a mixture of disgust and fascination with her elder sister’s freewheeling approach. Marlene had instead trained herself to simply not pee. She could and would hold it until she was in a proper place to relieve herself. She nearly always made it. When she didn’t, she wasn’t able to brush it off as easily as Amber. It hadn’t come easy to her. She was not born with a camel’s hump for a bladder. In her early years, she had some spectacular accidents. Because she would not employ her older sister’s discreet, controlled-release approach, much to Amber’s chagrin and Marlene’s sorrow, she would simply hold it until she couldn’t. She could hold a lot, these days, but when she could hold it no more, it all came out. She’d been teased relentlessly for her soakings, her skirts and dresses and overalls and jeans dripping, until she’d devised a plan. She’d train herself until it was no longer an issue. She started by not peeing in the house until it was an absolute emergency. Soon, she could hold it all day through school, although her panties were often damp by the time she pulled them down on the porcelain sanctuary at home. Her first goal reached, she settled for the ultimate price: a full sixteen hours. That was an entire day from morning until night, and Marlene knew she could never feel secure until she was certain she could last an entire day’s outing with no risk of an accident. She’d have to do it gradually. It was like any strength training: progressive overload was the key to building strength, whether it be lifting weights or kegels. She began by extending her no-pee time an hour after school, then two, then three. It was a lonely, hard road, filled with wet and even, occasionally, messy slip-ups. By the time she was fifteen, she decided to extend her regimen all the way from morning to dinner, a final stepping stone to the waking-to-bedtime goal. She thought she was ready. But one morning, her mother knocked on her door and told her they had to talk. Marlene didn’t know exactly what it was about. Irrationally, she thought her mother must have smelled smoke on her breath the day before, when she had taken two drags off of a cigarette on a dare. But she’d brushed her teeth twice before her mother got off work! Then her eyes drifted over towards her full laundry basket, and she knew. She’d pushed herself extra hard this week, never peeing until she leaked twice, and her mother must have noticed. “I’ve called your school and told them you have to stay home today because you’re sick, honey,” her mother began. “But I’m not sick, Ma,” Marlene said. “I know, honey. But your underwear is all wet. All of it! I wash clothes all day and yet somehow you manage to dirty it all, and today you have nothing clean at all. And a lady can’t go out in public wearing dirty underwear!” Marlene blushed. “I’m thinking of booking a doctor’s appointment for you. It isn’t healthy to be having so many accidents at your age.” “No, Ma, please,” Marlene said, and then she launched into a tearful exposition on her efforts to train herself to be the perfect lady, one who never needed to pee until it was appropriate. “Oh, baby,” her mother had said, and hugged her. “Maybe you should look to your older sister for guidance on these things.” “I don’t want to be a baby who pees herself like Amber, Ma,” Marlene said. “That’s why I do this, so that won’t be a problem when I’m all grown up.” “Don’t speak ill of your sister,” her mother had said, and patted her head. In the end, she didn’t take Marlene to the doctor’s. She bought Marlene training panties. Training panties. Thick, absorbent. Basically thin cloth diapers, although they looked and felt like thick underwear. Marlene redoubled her efforts to hold it, and she kept the leaks to a minimum. By the time she was seventeen, she was almost to the point where she felt safe. That was when she had her most spectacular failure. Her mother had finally managed to find herself a boyfriend. It was a long time since she’d been in a relationship. Marlene found Hank creepy and ugly and all-around wrong, but her mother adored him. Now, he’d offered to take the whole family out to dinner to celebrate their mother’s birthday. The problem was, it was a late dinner. They weren’t going to be at the restaurant until nine. It was an hour longer than Marlene had ever held it, and she hadn’t peed all day. But she was determined that this was the right step in her training. Before they left, she sat squirming openly on the sofa, making fists of her hands to prevent them from straying to her crotch, which would have been most unladylike. Her training panties felt clammy and damp. Today, they were green with a picture of Kermit the frog on the front and far too tight because her mother bought them in the children’s section. It was patently obvious that she was on the verge of having an accident, and she hated it. “Marlene, dear, do you need the toilet?” Hank asked, his eyes leering at her with a look that seemed altogether too lustful to be directing at your girlfriend’s daughter. She hated the way he tried to insinuate himself into her family and her life like some creepy father figure. “No!” She said, and Hank shrugged. He probably didn’t expect his girlfriend’s almost-grown daughter to actually hold her pee until she wet herself. By the time they arrived at the restaurant, Kermit the frog could not contain Marlene’s leaks any longer. When she rose from the car seat, she felt the front of her dress and confirmed it was damp, and there was a wet circle on her seat. She quickly grabbed a colorful quilted pillow her mother kept in the car and placed it over the stain. Her older sister was off at college, but Jazzy was along, and in a good mood, as usual. She seemed to take to Hank more than Marlene did. “Come, sis,” she said, grabbing at her hand. “Eww, your hand is all wet and clammy,” she remarked, discarding it as easily as she picked it up. Marlene knew she was out of her depth. She’d overestimated her capacity, and now she was stuck. There was no way she could use the restaurant’s restrooms, of course, and now she was in for an hour of dinner. She thought she might have another ten minutes in her. As the waiter handed her the menu, she focused all her might on her pelvic area, clenching like she’d practiced so many times before. She simply had to hold it. There was no other option. Sheer willpower held her aloft through ordering pasta and water, but she was running on fumes. Her midsection was on fire, waves of pressure were rippling through her, sweat was pooling under her armpits, and she was leaking. She couldn’t sit still, constantly bouncing her weight from side to side. Marlene must look like an impatient toddler, but the others were busy talking and paid her no mind. She resorted to holding herself under the table. If a lady grabs her crotch under the table and nobody sees it, is she really unladylike? Just as the food arrived, the dam burst. A wave of pain stabbed at her, right in the small of the back, and she felt her body involuntarily push. That was it: three seconds of pushing, a stream of urine flooding through Kermit’s eyes and mouth and onto the floor, and then she was numb; her entire lower half felt like it was floating. She could barely even feel it as her body stopped pushing and began passively releasing. The urine pooled underneath her bum, soaked into her black dress, and then the pool expanded under her, trickling towards the edge. Now there was an audible hiss, and then there was a splatter as the torrent began cascading off the chair and splattering on the floor. The waiter’s mouth fell open. He jumped back as the pee reached his foot, and dropped a bowl onto the table so that it cracked, spilling tomato sauce onto the cloth. Marlene continued peeing as things became a blur around her: her mother screaming, her sister laughing hysterically, Hank jumping off his chair and shouting something, then storming out of the restaurant. She was too shocked to even cry, or so she thought, until they got outside into the autumn chill and she felt the chill on her wet face. Hank had apparently broken off all contact with Marlene’s mother. Her mother responded by grounding her for a week. She knew Marlene didn’t like Hank and accused her of deliberately sabotaging the dinner. But Janet had relented after only two days when she’d finally calmed down enough to listen to Marlene’s explanation. Her mother must have known, somewhere deep down, that her habits were irrational, and she must have understood that this was her own doing: her own rules had pushed her daughter to do this. That was the most spectacular failure in her training. But pretty soon, Marlene had reached her goal. She could go all day without peeing, and only on rare occasions did she lose it and have an accident. When she did, it was always a flood, but never quite as publicly as that time at the restaurant. And her training had worked: she found herself a lot more outgoing after she had proven to herself that restroom needs were no longer a daily hurdle to overcome. Soon, she had expanded her friend circle, hooked up with a guy or two, began experimenting with vintage fashion, and then she was off to college. Now, she was absentmindedly sipping on a bottle of water, as was her older sister. Jazzy had her headphones plugged in and seemed to have zoned out completely. Mark steered the car towards the airport. They lined up in front of the self check-in machines, one after another punching in their cryptic 6-letters-and-digits booking code. Mark was amused that his code was ZOOMAN: did that mean he was a superhero who could turn into random zoo animals? But, like, what if it’s the really uninteresting ones, like that one snake that isn’t poisonous and can’t crush a metal bar with its awesome jaw strength or the sea anemone that the tropical fish swim past? He chuckled to himself. His fiancee gave him a strange look. “What are you laughing at?” she asked, with a hint of bitterness underneath. “Oh, just this booking code,” he said. “Look: it says ZOOMAN. Do you think—” “Forget I ever asked,” Amber said, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Well, maybe he didn’t amuse her, but at least he got a kiss, so she couldn’t be that annoyed at him. They lined up for the security check. Amber went first, then Mark, then Marlene. When it was Jazzy’s turn, the scanner beeped, and a female security officer stepped forward. “Random check, ma’am,” she said. “I need to scan you with this,” and she indicated a handheld scanner that probably looked for explosives residue, or something. “Hold your arms out.” Jazzy did as she was told. “I need to check the inside of your skirt’s waistband,” said the security officer. Jazzy stood still as the lady put two fingers inside her waistband. The woman stopped short when she felt the bulky, padded waistband of Jazzy’s underwear. “Problem, officer?” Jazzy asked, her voice as sweet as an angel. Jasmine had solved the problem of public bathrooms in her own way: she never gave up on her diapers. After a while, her mother had stopped trying to potty train her, reasoning, perhaps, that it was better for her to wear diapers than to use public restrooms. Now, she was an adult, but still wore diapers whenever she went out in public. Jazzy had a considerable collection of different styles and kinds. She’d even gotten the state to subsidize them, since she had never been potty trained properly and had a diagnosis of medical incontinence. Mark had often thought that, if she could just get over her mental block, she could easily learn to use the bathroom like a proper adult, but when he’d tried to explain this to Amber, she’d refused to speak to him for a week. He never brought it up again. Jazzy had the kind of domineering and outgoing personality that made her almost invincible to bullying. Many had tried, but only one person had ever managed to make her cry over her diapers, and that was her own sister. She didn’t care, and always acted like her condition was perfectly normal, and not even schoolyard bullies could make heads or tails out of her nonchalance and bubbly personality. Everyone knew, and nobody cared—or at least, nobody dared to say they cared, because everyone loved Jazzy. That was how she’d survived kindergarten through high school, and it was how she was surviving now. “No problem, Ma’am,” said the security lady, and waved her through. Jazzy picked up her hand luggage with a satisfied smirk. She’d tried to convince her sisters to join her eminently practical solution to their shared problem, but they had their own strategies and wouldn’t listen. Their loss, she’d always thought. Amber might think she could pee anywhere, anytime, but she couldn’t, not really. Jazzy could. On their way to the gate, all three sisters picked up a coffee at an airside kiosk. Mark watched in uneasy anticipation, looking for any signs of discomfort. He’d already made a trip to the restrooms, but of course, the sisters weren’t going to. They boarded their plane, and everyone seemed comfortable. But by the time they were seated and the seatbelt sign was on, Amber was squirming. She couldn’t seem to sit still, wiggling her bum and her thighs this way or that, keeping her hands folded almost priest-like in her lap, but Mark suspected she did so for other reasons than religious devotion. “You okay, babe?” He ventured. “Just need to pee,” she whispered. In the seat next to them, Jazzy’s eyes flickered upward briefly, and a vapid smile fell over her lips. Amber guessed her sister had just wet. Unlike her, she could do it without any consequences. Amber would like to relieve the pressure, but it would leave a spot on the seat, and sitting down was not really the ideal position to conceal an accident. Squatting at a certain angle that she couldn’t quite achieve in the seat would have been ideal. She’d just have to hold it until their layover, although by this time, the water and coffee was starting to catch up to her. Her bladder felt like a lead ball in her abdomen, constantly jolted by any slight turbulence or even by her shifting slightly; but if she didn’t shift around, she felt like she would lose it completely. And she could not lose it completely. Amber had trained herself to release in a controlled fashion, so as to minimize exposure to others. If she full-on lost it, there would be no way to hide it, and she’d be mortified. Meanwhile, Marlene was feeling a familiar pressure build in her bladder, but she could deal with it. She’d dealt with it many times before. What bothered her more, though, was the quite unfamiliar pressure building in her bowels. She felt like there was a weight attached to her spine, constantly descending, and it would soon hit muscles which she’d never had to train. She let out a silent fart and cringed; she was usually so careful never to release gas in public, and never to be in a situation where she needed to release something more. But now she had hours left of her journey, and for the first time in years, she didn’t know if she could make it. Her seatmate, a woman she didn’t know, wrinkled her nose and gave her a look that said I smell what you did. Marlene blushed and turned her face towards the window to hide it. She flexed her buttocks and prayed that this plane trip would soon be over. By the time the seatbelt sign came back on for their descent, Amber was potty-dancing in her seat and attracting stares from fellow travelers. She had her hands in her lap, and Mark subtly moved to shield her from view of the other passengers. He wondered whether she could even make it off the plane: it had been a year since the last time she fully lost control. They’d been at a wine-tasting event, and midway through the last batch of wines, which Amber had insisted on not spitting out, she’d scissored her legs, bent her knees, and a waterfall had poured out from under her legs. She was wearing a dress, but that hardly mattered, as everyone could see the stream of her urine splattering on the concrete. He’d had to take her home under the pretext that she was overly drunk, although in reality she was merely tipsy and had waited too long. Amber had been mortified and refused to speak the whole way home, although when they’d gotten inside the door, she’d kissed him and he’d rubbed her wet panties and things had progressed to the bedroom at a rapid pace. Mark didn’t really understand this aspect of her: she seemed embarrassed, but also somehow turned on by the embarrassment; and yet, he thought, this time, there would be no way to bury her feelings in orgasms, should it happen. Marlene was clenching with all her might, biting her lip, and trying to keep her hands from straying to her bum. Not like holding her butt would actually help. She felt a trickle of sweat slide down her neck, and her armpits were already damp. Jazzy, meanwhile, was watching a video on her iPad and seemed to exist in a world apart from the others. In moments like these, Mark wondered which sister had truly chosen the most sensible strategy. Thankfully, they were seated near the front, so they could disembark among the first passengers. Amber strode with purpose up the jet bridge, then grabbed Mark’s hands and steered him towards a corner with a potted plant. “I’m going to pee, cover me,” she whispered, then ducked behind the over-sized plant and squatted down. She’d barely gotten into position when her bladder gave way, and with a subtle hiss, she began peeing. The urine flooded through her panties, some trickling down her inner thighs, but once she’d gotten in the right position, butt angled just right (and slightly sticking out from behind the plant, Mark noted), most of it fell down onto the floor. She was wearing a flowery dress, as usual, and only a little bit of it got damp. Amber tried to clamp off the flow when she’d emptied one-third of her bladder, as she often did, but she was so desperate she couldn’t get it under control until at least half of it was in her panties or on the floor. Satisfied, she brought a paper napkin out of her purse, dried off her legs, then fished out her “bum and crotch” spray and gave herself a liberal puff of perfume. That done, she walked over to a water fountain and washed her hands. Mark noted that there was a wet spot on the floor behind the plant, about the size of two dinner plates put together. “Phew,” said Amber. “Let’s get going.” Marlene couldn’t just go behind a plant. She walked gingerly next to her family, feeling like every step might shake lose something that better stay bottled up. She was sweating profusely, and her sister Jazzy shot her a concerned look. “Do you need to pee, sis?” Jazzy whispered. “No,” she said, truthfully, wondering if she could confess what was really going on. Their layover was scheduled to be quite short, so they walked over to the other side of the terminal where the gate for their departing flight was. Upon arriving, they found an information screen yelling at them: their flight was delayed one hour due to technical difficulties. Marlene sat down on a chair, and she could feel something touch cotton as she sat down. It was as if the resistance of the seat was the only thing keeping her from soiling herself. Jasmine stood nearby, and Amber noted the far-off look in her eye. Then she noticed something else: her miniskirt was barely enough to cover a dry diaper. Now, an offending piece of white padding was sagging underneath the hem of her skirt. Amber walked over to her sister and tugged her skirt and shirt down. “Hey, what are you doing?” Jazzy asked. “Your underwear is poking out, dear,” the older sister said. “Oh. Thanks, Amber,” she said, and seated herself next to Marlene. Mark used this opportunity to go to the restroom himself. He’d noticed the middle sister squirming, and although Marlene rarely had accidents, thanks to her extensive training, he was starting to get worried. He’d only had to deal with it once, and she’d been devastated. He couldn’t help his fiancee or her sisters if he was desperate to piss himself, though, he reflected by the urinal. Amber carefully placed a couple of paper napkins on the seat, then sat down. Her bum was wet, her crotch was soaking, and her sex was burning with a strange desire, but she couldn’t just stick a hand down her panties and get off. Instead, she put her arms around Mark’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. He leaned in and gave her a quick peck on the lips, wary of the strangers around them and, not least, her sisters. Jazzy gave them a cheeky thumbs up, while Marlene had her eyes closed with an intense look on her face. An hour passed, in which Amber’s bladder refilled, Jazzy played with her phone without a care in the world, and Marlene held on, somehow, although the strain in her lower area left her hurting. Then, finally, they were ready to board. Marlene rose, but she felt something begin to slip out and quickly sat down again, burrowing her butt down into the seat. “Jazzy, sweets, I’m feeling a little dizzy. Would you please help me stand?” she whispered. Her sister, quite oblivious, took her by the hand and supported her as she stood up. There was definitely already a skidmark in her panties, and her jeans felt tight in all the wrong places. Why did she try to dress sexy today, of all days? The only good thing about having the fabric strain against her ass was that when she inevitably lost control, it would stay contained. Amber was quite squirmy again, and, having sat down for an hour, the shock of standing up was too much: a little trickle escaped through her panties. It pitter-patttered on the floor, but no one seemed to notice, except for a teenage boy standing with his mother whose mouth fell open at the seat. What, you’ve never seen a grown woman pee herself before? Amber wanted to yell, but didn’t. Jazzy adjusted her skirt again to cover her puffy underwear, which she’d by now wet twice, and they all lined up to present their boarding passes. Amber seated herself next to Marlene, who by this point looked about to cry. “What’s wrong, sis?” she whispered. “Do you need to pee?” Marlene bit her lip. “Not… pee,” she managed, her voice cracking. “Oh. Oooh,” Amber said. “I’m so sorry. Just hold on, you’ll make it. You always make it. Unlike… me,” she said. She needed to pee, but she tried to avoid squirming too much so as not to aggravate her sister’s condition. Up into the air they went, and as they achieved liftoff, Marlene felt something start to slip out, and she furiously scooted forwards in her seat and grabbed her bum, oblivious to anyone who might be watching. She hadn’t needed to go this bad in forever, and to make matters worse, now she needed to pee, too. Her bladder was a boulder, sloshing around with every jostle of the plane. Usually, this was not a problem; she’d only had one accident since, what, since before Mark? It had been a careless slip-up, a forgotten morning pee spelling her doom in the evening, but apart from that, she’d made it for years. Now, however, her attention was divided between her bladder and her bowels, and as a particularly gnarly bowel spasm hit her, she leaned forward and momentarily took her mind off her bladder, sending a small leak into her panties. She looked down in despair, but the crotch of her blue jeans was still dry. Relieved, she leaned back and redoubled her efforts to hold it. Mark was seated next to Jazzy, who seemed impatient and unable to sit still. “What’s the matter, Jazzy?” He asked. “Nothing,” she said. “I’m just tired of sitting still.” Mark looked over and noted a damp spot on the seat beside Jazzy’s thigh. “Jazzy, you’re leaking,” he whispered. “Oh, dear,” she said, putting a hand to the damp seat. “Try and sit still.” “I’ll try,” she said. “Put on another movie on your iPad,” he suggested. “Okay,” she said, plugging in her earphones. As she moved about, Mark could see the white padding underneath her miniskirt. He quickly averted his eyes, searching for his wife-to-be. She was seated across the aisle, holding her sister’s hand. Marlene seemed to have it bad; she was squirming, holding herself, biting her lip, squeezing her sister’s hand, and her lips were moving subconsciously in what Mark could only assume was prayer. Thankfully, their trip consisted of two short, connected flights. Aside from the one-hour delay, they were on schedule, and soon enough, the seat belt sign was on again and they were descending. Marlene felt a tear trickle out, and she couldn’t help but release a little gas. Why, oh, why didn’t she go number two before she set out? She was usually so careful. Now, she was on the verge of a disastrous accident. Her sister was clenching her hand tight, but that was hardly more than a modicum of moral support. As the wheels hit the tarmac, she was bounced slightly off her seat, and when her butt hit the seat, she felt it squish down onto something small and nasty. She sniffed the air, but couldn’t smell anything yet. Nevertheless, she’d officially begun having an accident. A little trickle of urine also came out, and to her horror, it left a little spot on her jeans. Once again, they’d seated themselves near the front, and this time, it was Marlene who took the lead. Amber followed, a small oval the size of a peach in her seat from the landing. She’d only half released during the layover, and now she was as full as she’d been then. She could barely keep her hands from straying underneath the hem of her dress, but she had to be proper. A real lady. She was a grown woman, and though she might pee her pants, she couldn’t do it here. Mark indiscreetly grabbed the hem of his sister-in-law’s all too short miniskirt and tugged it down. Her underwear had been on full display, quite soggy and yellowed now. There was a small spot on the seat where she’d leaked. Now, all he had to do was get these ladies to their hotel, which might be another hour, and then they’d be home free. The return journey was a direct flight, so he wasn’t too worried about that. Marlene almost ran to the baggage claim, but then she had to wait for her suitcase to show up, and she ended up bobbing up and down, clenching with all her might. Her earlier leak now felt like someone’s poured a teaspoon or two of oatmeal down her pants, and the front of her panties were clammy, a little wet cameltoe tugging at her lower lips. She cursed inwardly as she scanned the belt for her suitcase. It appeared, and she quickly scooped it up and rolled it outside. But the others hadn’t been so quick, and now she had to wait, her legs crossed, her bladder spasming, and her bowels feeling like they were about to wrench themselves inside out and dump their contents in her tight jeans-bottom. “I have to tie my shoes,” Amber said as they reached the baggage belt. She reached down and pretended to tie her laces as she released a five-second spurt through her panties. It warmed her crotch and gave her butterflies, but she couldn’t afford to rub herself right then and there. Instead, she straightened up and discreetly smudged out the little puddle with her shoe. Then she sidled up to Jazzy and handed her a paper napkin without saying a word. Her youngest sister’s legs were glistening with leaks; she turned around, away from the crowd, and wiped down her legs. At least her underwear wasn’t sagging beneath the miniskirt this time, but that might be because Mark had tugged it so far down now the waistband was poking up between the skirt and her shirt. Mark picked up their luggage, and they made their way to find a bus to their hotel. Outside, Marlene was on her last leg. Her bladder was throbbing, her abdomen was on fire. Her bowels seemed to be pulsating, and just as the others appeared behind her, she was hit by a feeling like someone’d punched her in the stomach. Marlene’s knees buckled, her feet swung inwards, she doubled over, and then she began pooping herself. It was a long, solid log; she felt it touch the cotton of her panties, then balloon out into her panties, squishing against the resistance of her tight jeans, bulging on her butt. “Marlene, are you okay, sis?” Amber asked. Then the smell hit her, and she wrinkled her nose. “Oh, Marlene,” she said, putting a hand on her sister’s shoulder. Mark couldn’t help but look at his sister-in-law’s butt, the way it bulged out like she’d stuck a softball down her pants, the tight fabric slightly stained around the edges of the bulge. Then Marlene sank down into a squat, and the bulge expanded again, now more like a squished melon. Then the smell hit, and he knew everybody around would know. An elderly woman looked over at the young woman crouched over in a defecating position, noticed the smell and tssk-ed as she moved away from them. Marlene released a sob. Mark stepped up, put a hand under each of Marlene’s armpits, and pulled her upright. Then he pulled her into a hug. “Shh, it’s okay, it was only an accident. You held on so long, you were so brave.” Marlene cried into his shoulder, while Mark awkwardly patted her back. “Here, take my jacket and tie it around your waist,” he said. “It’s not that cold outside,” he lied. It was freezing and his arms were already developing goosebumps, his hair raising at the cold. “Wait,” Amber said, and gave her sister’s butt a squeeze of her bum perfume. “I think we’d better get a cab,” Mark said. Marlene walked bowlegged towards the cab stand, feeling the mess squish against her with every step. “No, no,” said Amber. “You can’t walk like that. It looks like you pooped yourself.” “She did,” Jazzy said. “Shh, Jazzy,” Amber said. “The important thing is to make everyone thing you didn’t. Here,” she said, demonstrating a confident, always catwalk-like swaying walk. “It’s gonna slip out of my panties and down my legs,” Marlene complained. “No, it won’t. Your pants are tighter than a virgin’s asshole,” Amber said. Mark stifled a giggle. Amber rarely brought out the vulgarities. “Besides, if it happens, it happens. You gotta walk with poise, let the world know your underwear is perfectly fine.” Marlene tried, with mixed success, to emulate her older sister’s confident swagger. They got into a cab, and once they were in a confined space, the smell of the mess combined with the perfume took on a pungent air. The cab driver wrinkled his nose, but was too polite to say anything. Marlene cringed as the mess squished against her bottom. Her bladder was still throbbing, and she placed her hands in her lap. Meanwhile, Amber was on the edge, also squirming. Jazzy sat in front, distracting the cab driver with small talk. As they got out of the cab, Mark noted a wet spot on the seat underneath Amber. Marlene felt another leak escape as she exited, but it was all hidden underneath Mark’s jacket. She was more concerned with the mess sliding around her panties, although, as Amber had so aptly put it, her pants were tight as a virgin’s bumhole and gave little room for her accident to move. “I think I’d better check us in,” Mark said. Amber pee-danced on the spot, Marlene grabbed herself, and Jazzy stood humming to herself off to the side as Mark got their room keys. Amber and Mark had one room, and Jazzy and Marlene shared another. Amber grabbed the key off Mark and hurried to the elevators. As the doors closed, she sank down into a crouch and let go. The pee splattered over the floor, and she turned around to look at herself peeing through her panties in the mirror on the back wall. She found a naughty smile on her face. Jazzy and Marlene took another elevator to their room. “I need to change,” Jazzy said. “I need to pee first,” Marlene countered. She abandoned her catwalk stride once they reached the corridor, waddling over to 303 and swiping the card. Then she rushed over to the bathroom, threw off Mark’s jacket, and waddled over to the toilet. She almost couldn’t bear to drop her pants, but her bladder was about to give in—how come she couldn’t even last ten hours today, when she normally managed sixteen without a sweat? It must be the double-threat of number one and number two that had her too nervous to focus on her training. She quickly undid her jeans, then carefully lowered her panties. Marlene couldn’t stand to look at the mound of filth piled up there, so she closed her eyes, sat down, and peed. It was blissful, the release, and for a moment she even forgot all that had happened earlier in the day. A wet thud from the other side of the door indicated that her younger sister had dropped her own sodden undergarments. Marlene would let her change, but first, she would dispose of her ruined panties, and then shower until the hot water ran out. Mark entered the room to find his wife-to-be completely undressed, her glorious breasts on display, wearing only a sodden pair of panties. There was a wide half-moon, half-dried from her earlier pee, and a glistening wet spot on top of that from her more recent accident. Her hand was inside the panties, her back was arced, and she stifled a moan when Mark opened the door. He walked over and took Amber in his arms, tugging down her wet panties, and slipped a finger inside her. The rest of the vacation was uneventful, at least as far as accidents were concerned. They went swimming and shopping and wining and dining. Marlene wore her flapper outfit and seemed to have put the embarrassing accident behind her. Jazzy was her usual, bubbly self, and Amber was like a mother hen herding her younger sisters around. But Mark couldn’t quite look at Amber and her sisters in the same way ever again. The good thing was, his handling of the situation had apparently gotten him the go-ahead—which he’d taken for granted—to marry Amber. As he lay down in bed and wrapped his arms around her on the last night, he wondered if, misfortune notwithstanding, it hadn’t all happened according to some cosmic plan.

View File Natalia Fills Diaper In High Chair Natalia Fills Diaper In High Chair from DiaperedOnline. Submitter Little1992 Submitted 03/18/2020 Category Female  

I'm looking to write a series in vaguely chronological order taking place in the Marvel Universe. Some stories will contain messing, some won't. Chapter 1: Agent Carter Agent Peggy Carter was on a mission to track down Howard Stark’s missing nitramene bombs. She had tracked down the thief, Leet Brannis, to milk man Sheldon McFee’s home. It turned out they had the nitramene bombs inside the milk truck. After a vicious fight with McFee (no small feat in her blue blouse and long navy skirt), she had incapacitated the much larger man and tied him up to a chair. However, before she could begin interrogating him on the exact whereabouts of Brannis, she heard a man running outside and attempt to start the truck. She sprinted out and pointed her gun straight at Brannis. With contempt, she spat, “Get out.” She pinned Brannis against the truck, gun pointed at his head. With both baddies apprehended, she let down her guard just a bit and realized how badly she had to pee. She hadn’t gone in hours, since she had spent all afternoon and evening tracking down McFee and Brannis and apprehending them. She put that thought aside, focusing on her mission. She asked Brannis rhetorically, “Car trouble?” Before Brannis could respond, another man’s voice responded. “Nothing that can’t be fixed.” Agent Carter jumped a little in surprise, her wavy red hair bouncing. She felt the smallest leak into her utilitarian white panties, high waisted as the conservative 1950s fashion trends demanded. When the scare subsided, she realized it was Jarvis, Howard Stark’s butler. She didn’t let her momentary lapse of control be visible in her expression, though, and gave Jarvis a stern glare, her angular jaw hardening in place before she said, “What the hell are you doing here?!” Jarvis was not flustered. “Mr. Stark asked me to help you, and so I have. I sabotaged the motor.” Agent Carter kept her controlled persona going so as to not show weakness in front of Brannis. Turning to face her prisoner, she said menacingly, “Move and I shoot.” Jarvis followed up, “I thought you’d be more impressed.” Carter, already irritable from her brief loss of control, said harshly, “Well, I’m not. I already said I didn’t need your help.” “An ideal butler provides service without being asked.” “Ugh. Put it back. I need to drive this thing out of here.” After interrogating Brannis briefly, Jarvis returned flustered with the truck fixed but with McFee escaped. Annoyed, Carter told Brannis to get in the truck, promising him protection in exchange for information. She had him drive, keeping a gun pointed at him the whole time. After the adrenaline rush died down and they had driven for a few minutes, Agent Carter realized the extent of her desperation. The damp spot in her panties rubbed against her uncomfortably and she fought the urge to bounce her legs up and down, trying her hardest to exude confidence. She had spent long enough time in the man’s world of spydom to know they would never let her live it down if she showed a childish desperation to pee. Unfortunately, they couldn’t drive in peace as, a few minutes later, a thud indicated someone jumped onto the top of the truck. Jarvis said, worried, “Did you hear that?” Agent Carter felt another split second spurt. Suddenly, gunfire pierced the roof as whoever was on top of the truck began shooting in. Peggy Carter involuntarily let loose a second-long stream in response, her panties drenched. She shouted, “I definitely heard that!” Putting her desperation aside, she crawled out the window and on top of the hood of the truck. Brannis accelerated hard to unsteady the shooter and Carter fired with her pistol, barely missing. The man shot back, grazing Peggy’s leg. She shouted in pain and fell over, gripping the roof of the truck. Another spurt shot out of her, running down her legs. She couldn’t let it distract her. She shouted at Jarvis, “Shoot up!” Jarvis shot straight up with the shotgun he found and the shooter fell back. Agent Carter used the opportunity to swing up to the roof and began fighting hand-to-hand, trying to wrestle the gun away from the shooter. As Carter attacked the man, he let off two more shots that she fortunately directed away from herself, but it went through the roof. Unbeknownst to her, one had uncoupled the bombs and the other had hit Brannis. She finally knocked the gun from his hand, though. Jarvis yelled to warn Peggy, “Miss Carter!” Peggy tried to respond, but the attacker took the opportunity to swing a punch into her face. She fell over, peeing for a second yet again. She saw an upcoming turn and cliff and shouted, “Get Brannis! Jump clear!” She stood back up, angry at this man for potentially ruining her plans and angry at herself for her loss of control. In the back of her mind, she thought, “I hope nothing shows on my skirt…” She pushed that thought aside and began beating the attacker. She beat him into submission and stabbed his hand into the roof. As he screamed in pain, she said, “This is where I get off.” Jarvis leapt off with Brannis as Carter hung off the roof to fall off as gently as possible. Or, rather, as gently as falling off a speeding truck could be. She landed on the pavement, rolling repeatedly. She could feel a trickle erupt as she rolled and she only finally got control when she came to a stop. She stood up unsteadily, but at that moment the bombs exploded and the entire river seemed to shoot upwards. She flew back from the explosion, but was otherwise okay. As she got up to her knees, she felt herself peeing freely, finally. Her bladder ached in relief. She stood up quickly, still peeing, and realized the outside of her skirt seemed to be free of evidence of her accident. As the puddle grew beneath her, Jarvis asked, “You alright?” Her stream tapered off and she subtly felt the back of her skirt. Dry as well. The dark color and dark night would cover up any small spots. “I’m fine. You?” Yes… though I’m afraid Mr. Brannis broke my fall.” She stumbled towards him, focused again on the mission. He seemed almost dead… She demanded, “The rest of the weapons that you stole from Howard, I need to know where you hid them. Help me stop Leviathan.” Brannis drew a heart with a line through it in the sand before dying, leaving Carter and Jarvis to ponder the clue. Back at one of Stark’s penthouses, Jarvis insisted he check her leg wound and stitch it up, if necessary. Peggy really wanted a shower, her wet panties insistently rubbing against her, but she sat on the couch and raised her skirt just a little (she didn’t want him seeing her accident…) for him to patch her up. She realized too late that she had piss running down her legs, but those rivulets had seemingly dried by now. She could smell the faint scent of urine and wondered if he noticed as he patched her leg up expertly. They had a meaningful conversation about trust and if he did smell or notice anything, he didn’t say it. Agent Carter chose to assume he hadn’t noticed and when they were done, she headed to the shower to clean up.

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