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Before I recount this incident, happy New Year, and welcome to 2019! So, this occured YEARS ago, back when I was in kindergarten at good old Saint John Vianney. This was fairly early on in my time in kindergarten, around September. I was five and seven-ish months old. As it was nearing Fall, and it was a bit chilly, I wore the school's green sweater over my white polo. Alongside these two articles of clothing, I also wore a set of slip on Vans, and the regulation khaki slacks. Now, those of you who have read my previous experiences, you may ask, "Why didn't I include a diaper in my list of vestments?" Did I just presume you, my dear reader(s) would already think it would be there and think it unnecessary to re-iterate? Well, to answer that, we have to rewind back to a few hours prior, a little bit after I was dropped off. So, school would begin at nine, but we were suggested to be in our seats a bit earlier, just in case. So, my mom dropped me off at the drop off/pick-up area, kissed me goodbye, and left, promising to pick me up at the usual time of 3 PM. The AM Kindergarten class, and the entire school on Wednesdays, had half-days, but as I was in the PM class, and this day was not a Wednesday, I would be leaving at 3. As I made my way towards the double doors that would allow me access into the kindergarten itself, I felt a clenching feeling in my gut, and as soon as I felt that, I realized, I hadn't had my morning poop yet. However, I didn't just squat down and go. I quickly checked through the glass the double doors had to see if anyone was in the hallway that, if went down and turned left, you would reach the kindergarten classroom and,across from it, the bathroom. Luckily for me, the teacher, Mrs. Seminatore (who is now the principal) nor the two aides, Ms. Pina or Sister Maria, were in the hallway. That done, I looked behind me, to see if anyone was in the courtyard and heading in my general direction. I was lucky there too, as no one was in the courtyard. Satisfied, I squatted down, and swiftly pushed my morning poop, and probably some of my breakfast, into my awaiting diaper. Standing up, I headed inside, and to change out of my used diaper. I entered the boy's bathroom, which was tinted blue by the blue tillage. Going into a stall for extra privacy, I tugged my khaki slacks down, and untaped my diaper. Tossing it into the trash, I wet some toilet paper to clean myself up. As I had forgotten to pack spare diapers, I simply pulled my khakis up, and headed to class. Now, let's forward when this incident began. It was about time for the teacher to read us a story, when I felt the need to pee come over me. While I normally would have tried to hold it in until I could find something to pee in, or use the bathroom, but I didn't wanna miss the story. I was trying not to squirm, holding myself ever so often, as I was in the 20 or so bunch of kids in my class, listening to the story. Eventually, I felt a spurt come out, and scooting away a bit, I simply realized it would be futile to hold it in, I removed my hands, and let go. Immediatly, the front of my khakis dampened as a wet patch formed and grew, soaking the carpeted floor as well. As soon as the story ended, and recess was announced, I dashed towards the cubbies. A wet sport the size of my fist at the time stained by crotch. I quickly grabbed my Badtz-Maru (Male Hello Kitty Penguin) lunchbox, and used that to cover my wet crotch. Thankfully, as I made it to the playground, trying to tug my sweater over the wet spot, I found my out. It had rained a fair bit the day before, and both the slides were wet. Quickly making my way over. I plopped myself down in front of the taller, winding, purple slide, and slid down. The rainwater splashed against me, soaking my khakis a bit further. Mrs. Seminatore called my mom. A little while later, I found myself in the cubby area, laying on the ground, my mom getting me into a fresh diaper, and a fresh pair of pants.

If you had a method, whether "magical" or chemical or other to "turn off" your bladder control for a specific length of time, how long would you do it? I know some AB/DL types strive for total incontinence, but most of us would definitely hate that? So, how long? Hours, days, weeks, months, (etc.)? Go ahead and throw loss of bowel control in there too, if you fancy. I'd love to pick your brains about this.

View File Messing Panties on the Balcony "t’s such a beautiful day outside I decided to spend sometime on the balcony. I’m wearing a very short dress and cute cotton panties. I lean over the railing and let out a load in my panties. This is a risky place to poo my panties, cause there’s another apartment building across the way, with lots of balconies facing mine, but the risk of getting makes it so much more exciting doesn’t it? After filling my panties on the balcony, I come back inside and give you lots of nice upskirt shots of my dirty panties then walk around so you can watch the bulge move as I pace about." -enjoy Submitter melikai Submitted 01/05/2019 Category Peeing

Welcome, one and all, to Faust's Interactive Stories 4! Faust apologizes for 3 falling by the wayside easily, but Faust hopes that the fourth time is the proverbial charm. As stated in the fateful occurrences, this interactive is about exploring Faust-verses, and characters in varying degrees of decency. Faust will not keep you waiting much longer, for it's soon to be voting time! Read below, and prepare for our journey! ====================================================================================================================================== Story Setting: Another Note: A setting based around a mostly scholastic environment! Expect long classes, crowded bathrooms, and limited privacy, outside of certain areas. Good place to meet new people. Holiday Fun: A Setting based on a given Holiday, [usually the one the story is written closest to], and with a small group of people, specified by the audience at times. Beach Adventures: A setting based around a lovely beach, with Sun, Sand, and ocean for what looks like miles! May also involve a long car ride, but be warned: There are no bathrooms on the beach. Town Adventures: A setting based around a day off from scholastic journeys, to do things around the town. Play cards, Go bowling, watch movies... The Sky's the proverbial Limit! Private Bedroom: A setting where you forgo the usual wiles and joys of adventuring, and just settle down to make love to your selected girl. [Some Characters Restricted]. Wind-Down Ko-Fi Requests: Not really a Setting, but a series of tiny, little stories, set in the semblance of Caught Shorts, from his commission thread. Little, incredibly short stories, of a playmate or figure, on the absolute breaking point of their control. As for what they lose, or what they use... That's up to the comment-er! [Note: Does Not Require actually buying a Ko-Fi for Faust. Faust just is experimenting with it, before offering it as a feature on his own Ko-Fi Here . ] Meant as an easy-going setup, for if Faust's situation or workload becomes a bit strained. If it goes well, Faust may offer it as an actual reward on his Ko-Fi, and or create a separate thread for Ko-Fi submissions. ========================================================================================================================================== Character Select: Faustus Necromonium: [Male] [The Familiar Figure of Faust's stories, that has a generally friendly rapport with many people. A healthy appreciation for lewdity, and connections to the Goddess of Lust Saril may lend themselves to some naughty incidents.] Yuno Gasai: [Female] [Yu-know who this one is too! A curvy, friendly pinkette with a cutesy manner of speech, but with a bit of a distressing past. More than just good friends with Faustus, but with a woeful inexperience in shameful accidents, she tries her best to impress] Wynn Tatsumaki: [Female] [A girl with long, Forest green hair, and a bit of a stern, killjoy attitude... What this modestly endowed girl lacks in friendly flexibility, she makes up for with a cold, stern demeanor... And a talent for holding her liquids. Eoria Karakuri: [Female] [A silver-haired scientist with an insatiable appetite for sciences, that gets her in more than just a little trouble... With her tinkle, and other urges Saiga Giriko: [Female] A red haired scientist, who has to constantly reign in Eoria's more rowdy and raunchy plots... While also being someone not interested in wetting herself. [And more to be unlocked!] ======================================================================================================================================== [Modifiers!] [Forgoing the usual setup of Ratings, a new addition to the stories are Modifiers. These will affect the way things unfold in the story, in various ways. Some minor, some...] Normal Day: Nothing seems too out of the ordinary. May make it easier to find new people. Windy Day: The breeze is more than a little Stiff, and it has a mind of it's own! [Constantly blows things out of people's hands... Or certain garments up] Rainy Day: A ceaseless rainstorm goes over the town, making outside activities less pleasant....While the frequent, unending noises of water agitate piddle urges Hot Day: A day where the sun is working overtime, and it shows. Prompts more frequent Drinks, and copious sweating. Taco and Lemonade Day: A day where the school has it's famous Tacos on special... And The bathrooms are horribly crowded. [LOCKED!] [More to be unlocked] =============================================================================================================================== Items: {Currently Closed) ====================================================================================================================================== [TL; DR Version] Pick a character, Pick a setting, and up to 1 modifier. Majority votes will rule......But, while Faust is waiting on votes to come in, [And in Lulls between stories], Faust will set up Wind Down Ko-Fi Requests. ========================================================================================================================================= [Index of Tales] None so far! ====================================================================================================================================== [Wind-Down Ko-Fi Requests] Contrary to the Title, one does not have to buy Faust a Ko-Fi to participate. These are little, incredibly short requests that Faust will do, of a character at the limits of their control. Format is as follows: Character: [Who is being caught short] Urge: [Which Urge is overwhelming this individual?] Attire: [What kind of outfit is in danger? Undergarments, protective garments, etc. ] Extra: [Any additional Details] Rules: 1. Any entry in the format not filled out will be provided by the Author's own intentions. Faust may or may not make an accurate bit out of it. 2. One Request, per comment-er, per Wind down Session. This is to keep Faust from being overwhelmed. 3. No Shaming Other people's Requests. 4. All Characters will be written as they are of legal age. 5. A Ko-Fi Donation is not required, but is appreciated. Faust mostly does this as short little fun bits, to keep his writing momentum. [Example of a Caught Short/What you can expect from a request]

Tsukasa was sitting in her final class, blushing madly as her bowels ached. She had made it through the entire day, desperate for a bathroom, but because of some girls fooling around in the bathrooms, they were closed to students unless the students were trusted. But Tsukasa was not trusted. She was one of the girls who fooled around in the bathrooms when they were caught. She couldn't go relieve herself, so she had to wait until she got home. Tsukasa desperately wanted to let out a few farts, but would be far too embarrassed to do it during class. So she waited until she left school to actually let out some wind. The final bell rang through the school, and all the students began packing their things and leaving the class. Tsukasa carefully stood, and blushed as a quiet, little fart escaped from her rear uncontrollably. The pressure from the seat wasn't there anymore, allowing the unwanted fart to escape. As she began packing everything into her backpack, she smelled her fart faintly. But there was plenty more inside of her, she just had to get outside before she could actually release it. She put her backpack on, and followed the rest of the students with one hand on her stomach. Her bowels grumbled silently as she whinced slightly. Tsukasa exited the school and began making her way down the street, and turned down the walkway onto another street. She glanced to her left, then to her right, and smiled as she seen no one around. No one ever went on the street that she took home, luckily. She smiled before relaxing her rear, and a loud brrrrrrrrrfrrrrrrrrrt sounds from her bum as a loud, dry fart released from her bowels. She moans silently as she blushes, feeling the relief of releasing her air to be extremely amazing. Just as she released her air, she felt a tingle down in her nether region. Could Tsukasa be enjoying this a little too much? "Aaaah~ it feels to good~" Tsukasa said to herself silently. She pushed, and a pfffrrrrrrrrrt sounds as more wind escapes from her rear. She found herself to be enjoying her predicament a little, being a little disappointed that she couldn't smell her flatulence. She continued making her way to her home, pushing out a fart every now and then. She finally reached her front door of her house, taking her keys out of her pocket and frantically putting them in the door as she placed a hand on her stomach, whincing. Her bowels churned angrily, a large portion of poo that urgently needed to be evacuated nearing the escape. A loud, sudden frrrrrrrrrrrrrrt escaped as a smelly fart escaped from her rear, the mess getting closer to escaping. Tsukasa kept getting the wrong key as she let out a pained whimper. Just then, a bit of solid poo began poking out from her rear, causing her to whine audibly as she fumbled with her keys, trying to find the key to unlock her door. The mess squeezed further out before it touched cotton, meeting the resistance of her panties. She continued fumbling with her keys as her poo began to push her pink panties out. She finally found the right key, and inserted it into the lock of the door. Even though she finally got the key inserted into the door lock, her body seemed to have other plans. As soon as she inserted the key into the door, her body involuntarily caused her to push, a loud crackle sounding from her rear as poo began roping out from her bum and into her pink panties. Tsukasa gasped and blushed madly as her panties began bulging out. The crackling began to get more muffled as her panties began sagging down with the additional weight being exerted into them, the brown mass growing in size. Her skirt hid her accident, but Tsukasa felt and smelled what was going on as she gave up, and pushed voluntarily, causing a sudden splooooorch to sound as brown mess exploded from her bum and into her filled panties. She breathed heavier as she grunted cutely, pushing again as the bulge continued ballooning out, the seat of her once pink panties now turning to a brownish pink colour. The mess began spreading quickly across both her bum cheeks as her lower lip quivered and her cheeks flushing. She moved her hand that was on her stomach to the rear of her as she placed it softly on the slightly ballooned skirt as she pushed. She grunted adorably as she pushed the last of the mess out, blushing deeply as she whimpered. The deed was done. Tsukasa just filled her panties. "Oh.. I just... oh no..." She told herself as she blushed. She turned the key and unlocked her door, entering it before closing it behind her, the mess shifting about in her panties. The stench from her accident wafted up her nose as she blushed, keeping her hand placed on her rear. Soon, Tsukasa found herself slightly enjoying her accident. "It feels... weird... But warm.." She told herself. Tsukasa found herself staying in her soiled panties for a few hours before finally cleaning up. It was quite a messy afternoon for Tsukasa.

This is a collaboration I did with the talented LivingInfinite. He's done the honor of creating many drawings to accompany the story, which are spoilered next to where they appear in the text. Make sure to check him out at http://pixiv.me/livinginfinite (or if you just want to see the drawings). (The story takes place in the same universe as March of the Valkyries. Consider reading it first, it's sort of a prequel to this one.) “How much longer remains for us to travel?” “The Third Corps rest twenty-three kilometers to our north. They have received your order to remain still for three days. Should misfortune not befall our journey, we will arrive at noon tomorrow.” “Then let us dawdle no longer. Where are we to go?” “Certainly, your majesty. We shall go now in this direction.” Queen Ulrika the First of Scandia, regal and resplendent in an officer’s uniform, led her servant through the long grass. The queen’s stride necessitated in Iris a hurried pace matched easily by the plodding, unburdened horses she led. Perhaps walking was indeed invigorating, as Ulrika had declared, but she wished now for a respite from her sore muscles more than any invigoration. How intractable the queen was in these times, allowing the two powerful and prized stallions to be led with naught more than clothes on their backs. Of the four, the brown Arabian was perhaps the most acquainted with the surrounding lands. He was a war-horse, an ex-regular in the Gothian army whose care was bestowed upon the Scandians after a crushing battle at Mistelfeld. The green peaks enveloping the party were where he once grazed, the rapid streams in the dense forests where he once drank. Gothia’s winds, rushing cold and fast in the deep Visigoth valleys, rustled his mane as they had since he was a colt. What an idyllic scene it must have been to the stallion, who could not have known that he, in nominal terms, had still not yet returned to his homeland. For his new master, the queen who had brought him back to his pastoral valleys, had made the lands behind her Scandian soil. Eleven years of victory and conquest under Ulrika’s reign had brought her Northern empire to the peak of its power, possessing as it did now a dominion exceeding that of Gustav IV’s and an exorbitant wealth not seen since Harald II. Her march had not stopped at the lands lost in the Twelve Years’ War, for she had taken it upon herself to exact from her adversaries the vengeance Scandia’s royalty had long promised and failed to achieve. The Livonian Federation had been dismantled and existed now only as Scandian tributaries, bestowing wheat from its fertile fields upon the soldiers who were now bringing upon the Gothian Empire a similar fate. Four years of the Second Strelizian War released the once-mighty empire’s final vassals to Ulrika, who hesitated not one second in leading her Grand Army to breach the citadel of Greater Gothia. The conqueress now trod upon the Gothian heartland’s soil. An extraordinary mythos had burgeoned around the Virago Queen, whose continued presence on the battlefield broke enemy morale and reinforced her troops’ unyielding bravery even in the face of certain death. The veneration of her subjects manifested in their insistence she be referred to as Ulrika the Great, while her foes decried the Scandian monarch as a harpy of death and subjugation. But while Ulrika’s unassailable bravery in the fray made her distinct from the tradition of Scandian nobility preferring to dictate battle from afar, her tenuous control over herself while in the throes of war remained an accursed vestige of her genteel lineage. Though she would never dare to voice her thoughts, Iris could not help but ponder if the burden of bloodshed upon heart and mind had made worse the queen’s already poor continence. At any rate, it was a notion that Ulrika’s pride in herself compelled a wholehearted rejection of. She was still reaching ever-greater glory for her country and her reign, marching as she was now closer and closer to the Gothian nobility in their capital. For all of the nation’s great populations crammed into the sooty cities of industry, the countryside offered a solace of tranquility devoid of cacophonies of modernity. But free it was not of the heavens’ bellows, crashing down upon the valley in a peal of thunder echoing all around the Baden peaks. The sudden clap would prove enough of a shock to Ulrika for her to momentarily lose herself in battle-tempered trauma, and allow into her diaper’s clean padding her hot urine and a malodorous load. Only with considerable effort did could she gather enough composure to get a hold on herself, but by which point the sodden padding between her thighs and sticky mess at her rear told Ulrika her accident had been quite considerable. But Iris and her equine companion seemed entirely unperturbed by the thunder, as revealed to the queen in a quick backwards glance. Though Iris had at least suspected, from Ulrika’s reaction and blush, her secret, to make mention of needing a change to her collected servant would be a wound to Ulrika’s pride – and so she walked onwards at a steady tempo, with a blush of secret humiliation upon her face and a soiled diaper tucked discreetly under her clean clothes. She scowled at having wet herself at something so minute, something that should have under no circumstance scared her to that degree. Had it not been for Saalfeld… Adamant she was in her own strength and ability, Ulrika could not help but feel a twinge of displeasure at retaining still her personal failings despite all which she had achieved. She had become the Virago Queen and Ulrika the Great, but could not prove herself more continent than when she had been Princess Elisabeta. A preservation of her image in war was beyond a matter of her vanity—it was a powerful instrument of propaganda serving Scandian interests in the minds of both her subjects and foes. It was to Ulrika’s great displeasure that the achievement of those ends involved at times a sacrifice of her own dignity. As with all things relating to Ulrika’s personal matters, long-suffering Iris had endured much vexation before her mistress could be convinced of a need to wear protection in the days after encountering a clash. The queen had never but begrudgingly accepted the circumstance, and continued to profess to Iris the reservations she had about wearing a diaper she could not remove to relieve herself. But in light of her queen’s tendency to wet herself at even mild impetus, the servant found that such a situation presented itself quite rarely indeed. Not an hour had passed since thunder had coursed through the clouded valley when the sun peeked furtively out of the gloomy clouds. All the valley basked in its warming rays lifting the mild morning dew off long blades of grass. Such was the duality of the Gothian sky. A mild humid heat began to wash over heavily-dressed Ulrika; with sweat beading on her brow she instructed Iris to lead them into the forested trough. Their slow descent on the rocky terrain brought the sounds of life closer with each step, a symphony of birdsong and stirring fauna. A restless doe trotted half a league away, crunching on the layer of leaves below her hooves. Unbeknownst to her, she was being tracked – watched in the sights of a Weiss hunting rifle. The rifle’s bark scattered all life unlucky enough to have their peace intruded by the shot, sending legions of rodents scampering and bringing flocks of birds to the skies. Magnified as it was by the shape and depth of the valley, the shot would register within Ulrika as a phantom of the ruthless bullets hurled towards her at Saalfeld, that great fight whose recent memory still lurked inside her soul. Indeed, the discharged rifle was of the same manufacture as the one which had downed countless Scandians in their campaign in Gothia. It impressed within Ulrika’s subconscious that she was being assassinated, but the cohesion of the thought was lost in its journey to register as a sheer reflex-inducing terror. The queen spat a curse and staggered to the side with the momentum of her weight, leaping for cover behind the muscular flanks of her horse and eliciting from the beast a startled whinny. Her arms shot up in defense of her head and heart, and brushed on it way her shotgun’s roost across her breast. Adrenaline overcame fear enough for her to bring forth the weapon to return fire. Engrossed as she had been on escaping death and now returning fire, Ulrika stood unaware that the unadulterated terror had cost her what control she had over herself. The second deadly shot never came. But of course. The sound was too distant to have been a messenger of grave danger. Only as her fear subsided did she notice the increased bulk of the sodden padding between her legs, and the sensation in her bowels indicating that she had again emptied herself into her diaper. That she had voided enough in her earlier accident to avoid spilling the full contents of her bladder into the already soiled diaper was only a small mercy. Ulrika could feel against her nether regions now the mass of heavily soaked padding; and while her clothes remained clean it was quite clear that the same would not be true if she were to be overcome by fear again. The sight of Iris cowering teary-eyed behind her horse was enough consolation for Ulrika, but she still could not help but blush deeply when she opened her mouth. “Iris…” “Oh-, Y-Your Majesty, s-shall we stop for a brief respite from travel?” The servant’s voice was still quavering from fear, but irritatingly her dress seemed to remain clean. “Certainly, you must be fatigued. Before you rest, I ask that you … aid me with my personal matters.” “Of course. Ah– if I may, I shall mention that my supply of your, ah, u-undergarments, has become rather lessened.” Iris let a pause hang, then quickly stammered, “But please trust that I may find more.” In spite of herself, it was annoyance and not embarrassment that fell into Ulrika’s voice.“I understand. But assist me now nevertheless.” Iris needed only nod in confirmation. The less words to be said the better. The servant carefully tied the horses to a nearby tree before she went to attend to Ulrika, who glanced suspiciously around the forest for prying eyes. To quell the queen’s concerns, Iris led her behind a sturdy oak growing against a steep dirt bank, a pocket of nature shielded from the sun and eyes in two directions. She begun by undoing Ulrika’s pants and undressing the queen just enough to expose the evidently used diaper at her crotch. Experience had made Iris’s touch gentle and delicate, all for Ulrika to divest her attention away from the humiliation. She did not look once at her mistress’s face as she removed the diaper and cleaned Ulrika’s skin, the weight of the used padding revealing just how much she had needed the protection. It took naught more than two minutes for Iris to finish wrapping the queen in a clean diaper and dress her again, by which time the embarrassment had too receded from her cheeks. With the hot sun now high in the sky, Ulrika chose to mount her horse and ride in the shade of the valley’s tall pines. The horses, hemmed in by the tall pines and dense underbrush, could not unleash their mighty gallop here, and so carried their riders in a lively trot past rushing creeks and fallen logs. Each passed landmark prompted Iris to consult her map and compass, and adjust just enough their course to carry onwards to nightfall’s destination. There were no roads and no trails here in the countryside; a land seemingly devoid of all human imprint where one could hide and never be found. Ulrika relaxed her still-tense mind from the thought of the hunter, and let the horse’s steady gait while the hours away against the backdrop of a peaceful alpine forest. As the afternoon unraveled and the journey grew long, the Baden Valley scenery gently rolled by and changed remarkably little. Only when the horses suddenly stopped and whinnied were the two travelers broken out of their dreamlike trance. Curiously, they could spot nothing amiss within the heavily wooded vicinity which could have brought their stallions to a halt. In an abdication of her fruitless search, Ulrika knit her eyebrows and picked up the reins, preparing to spur on the disconcerted steed, when a furious howl abruptly shattered the silence of the forest. The savage cry startled all who it struck, and Ulrika’s heart jumped in her chest and her body stiffened, allowing for a moment an errant stream of piss to escape and absorb into her waiting diaper. Her regal white mount neighed and staggered, tugging upon the reins his rider still held in hand. But a temperament bred for calm under the utmost stress would prevail, and so when the scarlet fox leapt out from behind the trees he merely snorted and pawed the ground, waiting dutifully for the leather reins’ next instruction. Ulrika, however, had understood what the horse could not – those bulging eyes and the foam at the mouth, the convulsions and the erratic dash – a mad beast, a rabid beast! With not an ounce of restraint or reason in its mind, the snarling foxed twisted and contorted, and bolted towards the first creature it could see with salivating jaws ready to sink their teeth into soft flesh. Though small the fox was, the sight of its rabid dash towards its quarry would easily make Ulrika’s blood run cold. And in an instant it had found her again – the still-festering apparitions at Saalfeld, the apparition haunting her nights – those demons of death and terror, lurking always deep within her heart. It was too soon to forget, too living a memory to suppress; she had emerged victorious from the battle of ereyesterday but her nerves had been shot. So consumed was Ulrika was by the awakened terror of human carnage that she could not find it in her to scream or draw her weapon, and with her muscles paralyzed by fear she failed also to inhibit the torrent of hot urine that rushed freely from her bladder or the load squishing out of her slackened bowels. Her extremities became less and less material and dangled weightless, useless at her sides; all the queen could feel now was her heart exploding in her chest and the hot piss pooling at her crotch before it could soak into the drenched padding. But without ally in grave peril she was not, for her white Scandian horse had too realized the scope of the danger. Retaining still a clear and sharpened mind, the great beast bucked and leapt gracefully out of harm’s way, and upon impact with the earth broke into a gallop in tandem with his Arabian brethren. The horse’s loud neigh and powerful stride would be a strange reassurance proving enough for her to regain some sense, and though her chest still pounded with a bursting heart the ferocity of battle was beginning to take hold of her temples. The fox was behind, screeching a pitiful wail of desperation and confusion, and wildly running still in a chase for something, anything, though it did not even know what it was chasing for. A long-awaited demise, albeit delivered without intention of mercy, came from the left barrel of Ulrika’s Seidel shotgun in an impeccable Parthian shot. When the fox had collapsed on the ground and the blood began to paint its matted fur a sanguine red, Ulrika turned herself back around and pulled on her horse’s reins, abruptly ceasing his free and wild gallop. Iris’ Arabian followed suit. The encounter had not taken more than a minute, but to Ulrika it had felt as though half her life was stolen away. What a calamity this was. It had merely been a fox – and even instilled with all the madness in the world could not have been any match for Ulrika. But in the circumstances of today… and though I could at least kill the fox with due competence… how hampering was the residue of warfare on her soul, slowing her, dulling her, filling her with undue fear. Her assailant indeed lay dead behind her, but left her to contend with the sensation of sitting in padding wet with her own pee and a disgusting mess that the saddle squished against her backside. More than anything, she felt quite disgusted with the spectacle. There were people afoot here, hunters or farmers perhaps, murmuring among themselves while casting glances over the strange outsider in their lands. Ulrika glanced quickly at her backside to ensure her secret remained hidden, and though it wasn’t particularly reasonable for her diaper to have leaked she still felt a bout of relief at finding her clothes dry. Still, there hung over Ulrika an undeniable embarrassment of being seen while having soiled herself. To further the queen’s disconcertion, Iris again retained great composure despite all which had just occurred. Had she seen not the fox’s raving madness? The queen had begun riding again at a slow trot, and so Iris picked up heir reins also to follow. Only after about two minutes did the queen stop her steed and cast a long, suspicious stare behind her. Iris balked slightly before realizing she was not the subject of her mistress’s misgivings. She had a mind to ask Ulrika for what she wished for, but the sight of the queen’s twisted expression and crimson blush bade her to keep silence. It had also the effect of telling her precisely what would be requested of her. “Iris!” The servant jumped a bit at the anger with which her mistress spoke. “Yes?” “Ach … were you been injured by that vile, rabid creature? You must know how dangerous it is to be bitten by mad beasts!” As she spoke, the edge of her voice dulled. “Oh… I had not even noticed! Then I am sincerely grateful for your valorous deed!” Iris needed not feign her surprise. And Ulrika’s shot was indeed fantastic. “Is that so? Well, shall we rest for a while then? Just to steady ourselves.” “Certainly, ah, well, will you need me from anything then?” She tried dearly to speak with discretion. “If you may.” The flatness of Ulrika’s response told Iris of her success in tact, though of course she could not let her relief show on her face. As before, she retrieved another one of Ulrika’s diapers from the bag slung across the Arabian’s haunches. For not one second did she let the gentle grace in her movement falter as she cleaned and changed Ulrika. When all was said and done she quickly turned heel and climbed upon her Gothian horse, and waited earnestly for sight of the queen’s stallion to lead them forwards in travel. Where the tall peaks separating Gothia from its vassals begin to fall away, there lies kissed by the sun swathes of the continent’s most fertile, most bountiful farmland. The autumn’s great harvests of wheat nourished the all lands’ children, garnished by the vineyards’ delectable wines and the breweries’ stout ales. The grazing bovine herds and fattened pigs in their pens completed the bucolic beauty. How pitiful it was for such a prosperous realm to fall so unceremoniously before frozen, lifeless Scandia! The cornucopia waited at the mouth of the valley, deceiving close, tantalizing travelers with the promise that it lay not but a few paces away. But the lands were wily, for the valley rolled gently and gradually, concealing the vast distances of travel that remained in the endless valley before Gothia’s breadbasket. The sun drew lower in the sky sending its light dancing around the tops of the highest peaks, and withdrew its beating heat from the valley floor to be cooled by emerging evening breezes. It was Ulrika who first noticed the rushing wind sifting through the valley’s dense trees and realized the waning of the day. Hours and countless kilometers had gone by since her encounter with the fox. Having not left the forest of the valley floor, she had yet to be enticed by vistas of the Gothian hinterland, and was fast tiring of the beautiful but monotonous woodlands. She pulled sharply upon her white horse’s reins and swung her body off the saddle in one graceful motion, obliging Iris to quickly follow suit and begin leading both horses on foot. The servant consulted her map and compass for the umpteenth time, and when satisfied in the slight detour Ulrika had chosen to take, looked up to follow her out of the woods. Undeniable was the Baden Valley’s beauty, but its gentle inclines did not endear the Scandian queen to the lands now in her possession. All the noble blood in the world could not teach her to cherish the world’s natural grandeur through the eyes of an aristocrat. Though Iris was enraptured by the beauty her homeland so dearly lacked, Ulrika remained markedly unimpressed by how effortless a climb on the Gothian slopes felt. The leisurely stroll was barely less monotonous than a ride through the forest, but demure Iris had broken her usual silence to insist that they stay upon the hillside. She would stop to rest several times during their walk, but Ulrika felt throughout not even the slightest hint of exhaustion or exertion. There was in her body no savory ache nor biting soreness to test her endurance, and in light of her muscles’ ambivalence Ulrika’s senses were drawn to her gradually filling bladder. She cursed herself for having put on her last diaper, for she could not remove it even to relieve herself without putting it to waste. All she could do now was squeeze her legs together and try to relieve the mounting pressure. A hot dryness had formed in the back of Ulrika’s mouth, inviting her to take a swig from her canteen to slake off the thirst. She obliged and brought the jug to her lips, pouring forth the cool, pure water she had collected earlier from a rushing stream. But gulping the refreshing drink down into her stomach proved too much for her burdened bladder, which flinched and released, allowing its full contents to flow unrestrained into the waiting padding. Ulrika recoiled instantly and jammed a hand into her crotch to try and stem the torrent of hot piss, but her efforts proved futile; her diaper slowly expanded and warmed with her own pee for what felt like an agonizing eternity. When she had finally regained control of herself, she found that the bulk of sodden padding was pressing against her. In all other circumstances, she would have asked Iris for a change – but to do so now would mean traveling the remainder of the day without any protection. And recollecting all which had happened prompted Ulrika to quickly discard the idea. There was no alternative, then; despite everything, she would have to travel onwards in the diaper she had wet. Dusk had replaced afternoon by the time Iris and Ulrika exited the Baden Valley and arrived in the fertile fields. Gothia’s breadbasket was still a rustic and backwards plain, a far cry from the great feats of industrialization achieved in Aldenburg or Mülheim. Few people occupied the vast tracts of land, and what little made it their home lived in old-fashioned accommodations reminiscent of a bygone century. Separating each family from the next were vast fields of wheat and rye, stretching as far as the eye could see. Skipped as the countryside was by the new development of railroads, the Gothian peasants lived insular lives within their little farmhouses. Though the backwater’s houses was a far cry from the great palaces of Gothia and Scandia, for the weary travelers it was the best accommodation for miles around. Even deep in the lands of a warring state, the rural poor would not refuse a few guilders to quarter an enemy officer. Armed with the wealth of the Scandian crown, Ulrika could afford to be discerning when finding a bed for a night; and though she usually refrained from being particular she had today a pressing need for diapers to scavenge. Though she was in no position to refuse whatever she found, she hoped that industrialized Gothia would see their denizens at least buying disposable diapers for their infants. In rural Gothia, however, finding a house that housed a child was proving a long and arduous task. Frustratingly, there was not a map or guide for the region, and the tall crop combined with the fading light had made navigation itself a challenging procedure. To find a house at all was a small miracle, and to find one that served Ulrika’s needs seemed nigh impossible. Light was fading quickly from the fields; and though the queen was unbothered by the darkness she wished for a place to relieve her churning bowels. The rations of salted beef had not agreed with her today. With no end to the long search in sight, she made the conscious choice to void only a bit of her mess into the diaper’s thick padding. As soon as she felt the mush escape her, she instantly regretted her infantile act. Now she could not even remove her diaper until she had something clean to change into. Endlessly they searched as the hours ticked by and the sun receded to leave the valley in the throes of dusk. They mounted their horses to hasten their progress and discovered that they had only become disoriented faster. Many times Iris would note in dismay that they had only gone in circles. And all throughout, Ulrika found that voiding herself earlier had done little to lessen the bully beef grumbling in her stomach and coagulating in her bowels. She pressed Iris into the role of sole navigator, and concentrated hard on bearing down upon her abdomen, trying with all her might to avoid another accident. But it all came to no avail when her stomach suddenly lurched as she prowled the fields and forced from Ulrika’s bowels the contents she had so desperately tried to hold in. It was the second such incident that she had the displeasure of enduring today, and the mortification of wetting herself earlier paled in comparison to the absolute disgust she felt now. Her position on the saddle had the effect of pressing the foul mush up against her as soon as it escaped her, filling her entire diaper and backside with her waste. The diaper filled and strained to keep contained all of the queen’s accident, before the mass of the expulsion overwhelmed the leg gathers and allowed some to leak past her padding and into the back of her pants. Though she was already struggling with the pounding ache in her bowels, it was impossible for Ulrika to not notice instantly her diaper’s failure. Revulsion and shock swept over her, turning her face beet-red in chagrin. She could no longer maintain a pretense in front of Iris. The servant took not much longer to discover her mistress’s lapse in continence. She made no comment upon seeing the stain on the back of Ulrika’s pants. Driven by a mixture of fear and embarrassment, and without making a ripple in the awkward atmosphere, she silently hastened her pace in looking for a place to stay the night. The queen rode wordlessly behind her, shifting her weight constantly to lessen the discomfort she was in. Her great impatience for finding a place to stay had been supplemented by a crushing fear at being seen in her soiled state. But time would prove a harsh mistress and drag on for an unbearable eternity, punctuated occasionally by the discovery of another farmhouse only to find it without young children. Ulrika rode in the shadow of Iris, trying the best she could to keep as far away from prying eyes as possible. Night had almost completed its succession of day when Iris heard suddenly, from the barely-illuminated farmhouse she was riding towards, the cry of a young child. There could be the night’s stay! She cracked the reins across the Arabian, urging it into a canter, but the queen did not follow with the same vigor. Sensing quickly her mistake, she slowed her horse down to a slow trot. But Ulrika was ahead of her, having already dismounted and continued inconspicuously on foot. Iris followed in turn, and for the remainder of the distance to the farmhouse led her horse behind her. When she had reached her destination, she tied the beast to a fence and knocked upon the heavy oak door. Though she saw through the windows shadows move behind candlelight, the ruddy-cheeked boy who greeted at her at the door still took her by surprise. “Hiya, whaddya want?” He spoke through grating and tonal voice, and had the vernacular of the country dialect. Though she had years of learning with the language, Iris could only just understand the child. “May I speak to your parents, little one?” Her Gothian was the precise and careful speech of one who learned through books. It marked her as not only an intellectual, but also a foreigner in these lands. “They went out to tha market. A’hm the only one ‘round. Watcha need, auntie? Who’re you anyway? Are you one of them bandits? You don’t look one!” All the words tumbled out of his mouth and mixed together. Coarse as he was, Iris could not help but find the jovial child endearing. “We’re only travelers from a faraway land. We’ve no place to stay tonight. If you wish, I can reward you for helping us.” She held open a hand, revealing three shimmering gold pieces. The child’s eyes went huge. “Wow! Please-please-please stay here! I’ll letcha you my mama’s room! Howd’ja get the gold? Are you a king? Are you a prince?” He stared at Iris with scrutiny. Now Iris couldn’t help but laugh. “Where I come from the gold grows on trees. But where I come from is a secret!” The boy pondered her words for a moment, and apparently satisfied, took the coins and opened the door. Ulrika had been ignored completely by the child, now showing Iris around the house, and she was relieved for it. She prayed that the odor of her accident and the stain on her pants would be go unnoticed. Luck would finally be on her side, however, as the musk of open bedpans and livestock pervaded the entire house. Her attention was torn quickly to the sounds of a young child’s unintelligible speech, and she realized then that in the room across from her was the farmhouse’s only other denizen. It was a young girl, a young girl who walked steadily upon her two feet but spoke slowly and with considerable labor. She was dressed in a simple and rough dress made of a single piece of faded grey cloth, and walked over to speak to Ulrika in the Gothian that she did not understand a word of. Before the child could become frustrated at the strange newcomer who understood nothing and spoke nothing, she was scooped up quickly by her older brother and taken into another room. Taking care to stay out of sight, Ulrika watched from behind a doorframe as the boy placed her sister upon the bed and changed her diaper. She waited until the child had left the room and scampered downstairs, and called loudly in Scandian for her servant to come quickly. Iris, understanding fully Ulrika’s predicament, hesitated not for a second in responding to the request. With a wet sponge and several rags, she gently cleaned off Ulrika and peeled from her the soiled clothing to wash. Night had fallen, and the travelers would take the initiative to pad downstairs for a cold bath the kitchen’s metal tub. With both children in the house asleep, they could relax and indulge in the house’s greatest luxury. When satisfied with the bath, both women changed themselves into their silken nightgowns. Iris slipped into a pair of simple cotton panties, and produced from a bag several baby diapers she had taken from the daughter’s bedroom. She prepared from the kitchen a corrugated washboard to wash the queen’s uniform in, only looking up from her work to see Ulrika walk upstairs with the diapers in hand. By the dim glow of candlelight, the queen entered and locked the door of her room, and when sure of her absolute privacy looked carefully over the diapers to discern how she could fit them over herself. While they were certainly preferable to the prospect of wetting herself without protection, Ulrika found baby diapers to be always tight-fitting and exceedingly uncomfortable around her hips and crotch. Much to Ulrika’s displeasure, the diaper she squeezed around her waist now would prove no different. Worse still, wearing the infantile undergarment inspired no confidence – the thin padding, meant for children, would no doubt fail at containing any of the queen’s accidents. All the pillaged diapers provided to her was a small safeguard, an interim for minor leaks before she could procure another package of her personal protection. With brief consideration of her bedwetting and how unacceptably small the child’s diaper was, Ulrika decided then to put on over the diaper she wore a second pair of the padded undergarments, and hoped for the best as she lay herself down upon the bed to sleep. Though she gazed through eyes clouded by the dense fog, Ulrika found in her heart the stirring of pride upon inspecting her Grand Army at arms and ready for their trial. Upon the field were regiment upon orderly regiment of blue-coated infantry, marching in step and unison to the beat of the battle-drums, bayonets at the ready and with hearts full of valor beating in their chests. Forwards, forwards they marched, advancing in an ever-quickening tempo, pouring from their chests the gallant Northern battle-cry. The methodical march of man was drowned out by the furious flight of cavalry, galloping without fear or question into the guns of the enemy. A thousand brandished cuirassiers’ sabers sliced through the fine mist. All the worlds’ chaos was gone, drowned out by the great roar of wind rushing past. Orange turned the sky, illuminated by the fire spat from countless muzzles and penetrating deep into the murky heavens; and the infinite fury of battle collapsed back upon itself as it fell down to the earth below, finally striking Ulrika as nothing more than a drop of light bouncing daintily off her weapon’s polished brass. The gates of Hell had opened and smeared the dewy hills with a plague of black-coated Gothian soldiers, congealing and converging in the haze into one great being before the order of battle forced them apart. They were the spawn of the perfidious rogues who a century earlier had crippled and torn apart the Scandian empire and doomed to a frozen exile all which had remained. But that had been when Scandia was weak and Gothia was strong; now Scandia was mighty and poised to bring upon the invaders’ homelands a long-promised retribution. You may fight like lions and die as free men, but you will not change the fate that awaits your lands. Nearer and nearer the Gothians drew, their curses and epithets sounding louder, their gunfire bursting brighter and the hail of bullets growing thicker. They were drawn as moths are to a flame towards the flanking light infantry, and in droves fell upon their knees to fire upon the charging Scandians. Ten thousand rounds of fire coalesced into one roar sweeping from their divisions across the grassy plains, cracking violently over each Scandian horse and rider as the first bullets began striking the earth. The loosened ground began splashing up in little fountains, glanced by the flying lead; closer and tighter the pattern drew, so Ulrika gritted her teeth and pulled with all her strength to turn herself away, further from the guns, further from the storms of death. And the bullets fell away from her, and there was for a moment a blessed peace, before the second volley started in earnest and though the reverberating roar fell farther away the merciless bullets bracketed her closer than they had before. Ulrika’s head was torn apart by a thousand impulses and her breath snared deep within her chest, and the horse was crying for want of clear instruction as she desperately whipped the beast back and forth in an effort to throw off their aim. She was in the depths of a terror and turmoil that slowly sapped the strength from her tightly-clenched body, allowing to trickle from her crotch a weak but consistent trickle of piss to be absorbed by her diaper before she could even notice. Faster, faster she charged her horse to run, only half a league onwards, fifteen, ten seconds to safety. But the third withering volley never came, its expected roar replaced by frantic screams of sudden melee and disorganized gunfire. The Scandian cuiraissiers had arrived, charging with gleaming swords into the distracted infantry regiments, slashing, cutting with impunity. Lulled away from the cover of their heavy guns by the Scandians’ charge, the black-coated mob found itself without defense from the cavalry eviscerating their ranks. The feint had been successful beyond expectations, though Ulrika was already too far away to appreciate the victory, riding still at a breakneck pace until she had crested the hill’s ridge into the Scandian infantry’s ranks. Only then did she grant herself a respite, unwinding her body slowly from the tight clench of a fight for survival. Though terrifying it was to be the defenseless lure in the order of battle, the losses on her regiment had been quite minimal; nary more than a handful Scandians would emerge bleeding from Gothian fire. There would be a brief calm to be enjoyed now, a fleeting moment for the injured to be rescued and the disarmed to be requisitioned by their comrades on foot. Ulrika felt herself for wounds, and realized suddenly that the padding between her legs had grown quite warm and damp against her crotch. Her bladder felt empty. I must have wet myself without noticing. Blind to the battlefield from the low ground they sheltered in, Ulrika’s light cavalry could not but wait for the bugle’s call for them to ride again into the fray. The horses trotted indignantly at being denied the excitement of battle; their riders mentally braced for facing the next gauntlet. One, two unbearable minutes drew by, before over the hill came the clarion signal, urging the division into another perilous struggle against their own demises. No time to think, no time to hesitate; there was but one task at hand to be faithfully executed. It was a strategy whose creation Ulrika herself had overseen, and now as she loaded the gleaming brass shells into her shotgun and spurred her horse to carry herself into the enemy lines, a strategy that she would become component of. Cheers and hurrahs from the hunkered infantry carried her into battle, their voices an ardent reminder of her duty still as the Scandian idol. The two opposing forces had taken sides around the hilly battlefield, their ground demarcated by the fire of heavy cannon denying enemy advances into their lands. Both Scandian and Gothian ranks dispersed in the face of shell bursting with enough strength to wholly eviscerate a platoon. A stalemate began to coalesce over the battlefield – a stalemate that attacking Scandia had not the ability to weather. Now, the Grand Army’s spearhead could only be sharpened again by the light cavalry. Though her horse could run without fear of enemy fire in the depression, Ulrika also found herself unable to discern when her comrades’ lines ended and her enemies’ started. Scandian cries melded into foreign barks as she pushed deeper into the enemy’s ranks, but she did dared not to strike upon them until she could hear their artillery’s thundering fire. Each shot was louder and more violent than the rest, until she could feel in her bones the earth tremble from under her horse’s flying hooves. She was upon their cannon now, and a burst of fire that could pierce the heavens thundered to her right, the sheer might of its great bellow slamming into her as something tangible and forcing from her quivering bladder the last few drops of urine that she had not already lost. And then she could hear through the deafening ringing in her ears the artillery’s violence fade further and further away; they were behind the Gothian spearhead now. Five seconds, four seconds, three, two, one. Ulrika pulled sharply upon the right reign, and with a neigh her horse obliged to bound over the gentle slope, taking her in an instant into a sea of black-coated Gothian soldiers. They were to her right, to her front, surrounding her but outmatched entirely by the Scandians descending suddenly upon their ranks. Ulrika placed in both hands her Seidel and aimed quickly at the dense crowd. There was no need to identify a single target before she pulled the heavy trigger, for the Gothians had assembled so tightly that the heavy lead shells were practically guaranteed to find a mark. Again and again the twin-barreled shotgun sent its tumbling projectiles into the Gothians, who in their haste to arm and return fire had abandoned the cannon, but were nevertheless cut down in droves before they could shoot back at their assailants. Not once did Ulrika slow her horse’s breakneck gallop, nor had she the mind to consider where in the battlefield she had plunged, so entirely fixated as she was upon the blistering rampage representing all that she could do to ward off her death. Load, aim, kill, load, aim, kill. To relent was to die. To fight so viciously upon horseback was a singular experience in its cocktail of pure adrenaline and terror. It was difficult to note even the most prominent of events, no matter how close they may have occurred. But though the world had folded and collapsed down into horse and rider, it was becoming impossible to ignore the physical exertion and pain that was beginning to surface. How long have I fought – how much longer will I fight? Fatigue was dripping its venom into Ulrika’s absolute focus, melting away its layers, averting her eyes from their duties and forcing her to witness the carnage around her. A flash of black, darker than the depths of night, and there it was, the Gothian cavalry had arrived, chasing the raiders with great swords at the ready. Now the world was being pulled apart, revealing its horrors for all to see; Ulrika twisted her body around and aimed quickly at the charging soldier upon his powerful black horse, and hesitated not a second to shoot behind her, allowing the pursuing soldier to fall into the tumbling leaden shells. She would not wait to see the spray of blood choke the cries of man and beast, for she had spurred her horse in a bid to escape, and with her heart snared by terror dared not look back upon the black-coated divisions. Faster, faster she pleaded her horse to run, and pressed herself lower and lower until her chest was touching his mane, but the ruthless shouts behind her still would not cease, pulling with greater and greater strength upon her mind to look behind, to find what would become of her. The pressure mounted upon her until it became unbearable, and finally look she did, and saw all which she had dreaded made manifest; her comrades had vanished and been replaced by a hundred, a thousand soldiers in black upon horses of the same shade, screaming in Gothian and slashing their glinting swords, pushing their horses faster and faster, drawing nearer and nearer to the sprinting white horse. All the blood in Ulrika’s body had been drawn into her pounding heart, and she could feel naught but the scream in her chest, pounding against her ribs and threatening to tear her wide open. Her continence disintegrated in absolute terror, releasing from her emptied bladder only drops of piss; the same mercy could not be afforded to her bowels, churning and emptying a volume of mess into the padding where it, pressed against the lurching saddle, was squished all across her backside. But Ulrika noticed not at all that she had just messed herself, so consumed as she was by the death encroaching steadily upon her. She tore her eyes away to desperately find an escape, but all there was ahead were the Gothians, a sea of them to both her sides, marching in unison like toy soldiers closer and closer until the path in front was closed, and then slowly, mechanically, lifting their rifles all at once to fire an infinite volley. Then at her right there was the black horse again, and she glanced over to find in horror that it was the horseman she had shot earlier, returned now in flesh and blood, lifting over his head a curved sword shimmering and dancing from a light she could not see. She squeezed her eyes shut, but could see still, in perfect clarity, the blade fall towards her, ready to cleave her apart, and in that moment she understood perfectly that she was to die. Valhalla… My blood? Something was clinging to her, something liquid. She lying upon her back, but could not recall what had put her there. Gone was the great cacophony of the battlefield. Ulrika slowly forced open her bleary eyes. A room, an unfamiliar room, but empty and peaceful nonetheless. There was no gunfire, no horseman, no sword, no Valhalla. It was Saalfeld again – that battle which stalked her still in her dreams and haunted her waking moments. It was her victory, but how utterly horrific it had been, trapping her divisions in a wild, defenseless escape before throwing her back to live it all over again. And how viciously those Gothians had fought for their fatherland, retreating not one step back, caring not even for their own lives, fighting and dying until the rivers ran red with their blood. To decimate all twenty thousand of their ranks took near all of the day, in which time their maneuvers trapped her within the butchery and forced her into struggle after bloody struggle. They had denied her all opportunity to retreat and change, and their relentless assaults did not fail to elicit from her several more accidents, each time further wearing away her fortitude to the point that she had soiled herself at the Scandian cannon-fire behind her. By the time she could accept the surrender her diaper had failed to contain all her mess, and the evidence for her fear had leaked past onto her thighs. That was quite possibly the most terrifying aspect of it all – how close she had come to losing completely her soldiers’ faith and enemies’ fear. The umbrage lingered even after she had changed, accentuated by her frustration of having helplessly messed herself at a shock so minute, as if she was again a princess who had never seen warfare. But she was not on the fields of Saalberg, and it was not her blood that clung wetly to her thighs. In a quickly cooling puddle around her, soaking into the rough sheets of the Gothian farmhouse, was her own pee, spilled in her sleep from the thin padding tightly wrapped around her crotch. With her eyes open now, she quickly found that even wearing the two diapers had helped little against her bedwetting; her face grew hot at the prospect of having to hide from the child her soaked sheets. A foul odor made its presence known to the humiliated queen as well, and she realized with defeat that the diaper had been ineffective at containing not just her urine. With a sigh of defeat, Ulrika propped herself up, taking care and caution taken to not spill out any more of her accident from the ill-fitting infant’s garment. She had no mind to take the soiled diapers off as underwear, opting instead to simply tear apart their elastic sides and throw them down into an empty chamber pot. Oh, what to do now. She could not call for Iris, nor could she possible leave her room dressed like this. But in her soiled state she had no desire to dress in anything. All there was to do was drape a towel around her, as a makeshift shawl, and tiptoe to Iris’ room while praying that the children had not awakened. Mercifully, her humiliation was seen by nobody during her brief walk down the hall. Iris, always the diligent domestic, wasted no time in helping Ulrika with the situation she had long foreseen. With quick and gentle movements, she cleaned off the queen’s soiled body and stretched over her muscled body another baby diaper. Over the infantile garment were the pants she had laundered yesterday, and the rest of her full officers’ uniform. Not until the queen’s attire was complete did Iris even take the time to don her own simple dress. Without taking even a second’s rest, she then moved over to Ulrika’s room and stripped the bed of its sheets, bringing them downstairs to launder again. She let the soiled cloth soak in sudsy water while she prepared a breakfast of bread from the house mixed with the rations brought along for the journey. Ulrika needed not lift a finger for the entire ordeal, and ate her meal in silence against the still-dark sky. The countryside’s denizens slept soundly in their beds, but within the tranquil farmlands there was prowling already a roving band of disheveled men, armed to the teeth with knives and guns taken from abandoned armories all along the war’s former front. Queen Ulrika’s wars had brought upon their world a great turbulence, and robbed them of any scrupulous means in their increasingly impoverished lands. They had not been the most conscientious of men prior to the unrest, but now, driven by pure desperation, they had become true outlaws who robbed and killed without remorse if only to survive another day. All the king’s horses and soldiers were fighting and dying at the hands of the Scandian invaders, leaving the lands’ population without recourse against the plundering rogues’ reign of terror. Fearsome as they might have been, the bandits acted at least with no semblance of stealth. Their drunken shouts and swears traveled far and wide around the tranquil farmland, revealing to all precisely where they were and where they were to go. The older brother of the farmhouse had awoken now, and could hear with perfect clarity the ringing vulgarities. He turned to Iris with fear etched upon his face. “It’s the outlaws, they’re comin’ fer us!”. It was an impassioned whisper. Iris hesitated a moment before deciding to relay the message to Ulrika. But the proud queen, oblivious to the region’s anarchic descent, chose not to heed the warning. She cut down Gothia’s soldiers like rye on the battlefield; what possibly could some “bandits” inflict upon her? A quick wave of the hand was all the dismissal Iris needed to see, and so she, against her own instincts, made up her mind to stay by her mistress’s side. Though the boy was perplexed by the travelers’ fearlessness, he too decided that he would stay, and see for himself how the strangers would defeat the rogues. The voices drew nearer, clearer, until Iris and the boy both could discern the words that melded together into one rambling, drunken slur. Iris felt a fear drip slowly into her heart, with each Gothian curse exacerbating further her apprehension at remaining so vulnerable to attack. She dearly wanted to hide now, but her unwavering faith in her queen kept her from running and hiding. Ulrika for her part could comprehend none of the foreign language, and so maintained throughout her resolute lack of fear at the prospect of facing a pack of drunkards. Their voices were at the house’s doorstep now, and yet Ulrika still did not bring out her Seidel. She placed her hand upon the table, ready to rise and confront the intruders should they try to enter the house. But though she had no expectation of courtesy from the strangers, the violence with which the door was broken open with struck her as a great shock. “Yer money or yer life! Choose wiselay’!” It was a tall, bearded man who bellowed the threat into the kitchen, but he was flanked on his sides by three burly men no less terrifying than he was. In his calloused hands was a heavy wooden pistol, and he pointed the gun towards each one of the three figures he saw in the room. His finger was fully wrapped around the trigger. When the barrel fell upon the farmer’s son his mouth curled tightly into a smile. “Ah, wa’s this?” In an instant, the small child was in his choking grasp. The gun was gone, replaced by a knife, and he held the glinting blade to the boy’s soft throat. “Ya don’t wantcha boy ta die, do ya? Do ever’ahthing I say, then!” How Ulrika had utterly misjudged the situation. Now she was completely and utterly awash with only the thought of her impending death. She had faced foes more determined to kill her, but all of them were purged completely from her memory. Her hands acted on raw instinct now, clutching the Seidel and almost bringing it against her enemy before a shard of fear cut their strength and sent the gun clattering to the floor. Her arms were trembling like leaves when she brought them up over her head in surrender. Tears of defeat and fear flowed freely from her eyes, as did a torrent of urine from her crotch. A putrid mush from her rear came tumbling next, and both could only be contained by the baby diaper for mere moments before they overflowed the thin padding and leaked past her thighs. The bandits were still screaming, still yelling wildly at her with words she could not understand, and growing more and more angered at her while she could only stand helplessly while voiding herself messily into her pants. And then there was an arm at her neck – this is the end – but no, it was the arm of a woman, followed by a flurry of rapid, panicked Gothian. Iris. She choked back a sob of gratitude; and was struck suddenly by the realization that she was still emptying herself in fear. Though her pants were thoroughly soaked and soiled already, she made still the great effort to regain what remained of her potty control. “An’ who ah’ ya?! Why’s yer friend wearin’ that?! She’s not fuckin’ army, is she?” The bearded man held his blade up against the child’s next, eliciting from the boy tears of fear in a silent plead for help. “Ans’wa me!” “Please… please… we’re Scandians, and we’ve got the money you need! Don’t hurt us, we can give you what you want! Money, land, we can make sure you live well!” Iris had wet herself in fear in well, and the soaked fabric of her dress and panties clung wetly to her as she pleaded with the bandit. “Just… just don’t hurt us… please!”. The bandits’ leader laughed at seeing the wet patch on the front of Iris’ skirt, but turned his attention quickly to Ulrika. “Scandia, Scandia! Where hav ah’ seen her befo’ah! Nah, me eyes don’t lie ta me!” He turned again to Iris. “Tha’s, tha’s yer queen!” Iris held up her hands. “No, no! You’re mistaken! She’s just an officer! She -” Her pleas were cut by the rogue roughly shoving her aside and fixating his burning stare solely upon Ulrika. The boy was thrown bodily upon the ground, and before he could escape, picked up by the collar and placed in a choke by one of the waiting associates. All the rooms’ eyes fell upon the queen now, and the uproarious leader was first to notice the stain on Ulrika’s pants. He threw his head back and laughed again, echoed this time by all his cronies as soon as they saw for themselves. “An’ I thought it was tha’ boy who made tha’ stink! But it wa’ her! Tha queen of Scandia!” His pistol had reemerged now, and he pointed it directly at Iris’ head. “Now girlie, why don’cha give yer queen a new pair of pants?” He grabbed the clothes at Ulrika’s stomach and with a herculean swipe tore them right open, and then with a shove knocked her over and splayed her flat against the ground. Iris was utterly taken aback by the request, but the gun’s cold metal against her cranium was more than enough to jolt her into immediate action. She crouched down swiftly and tearfully reiterated to Ulrika what she had been forced to do. The queen was shattered beyond resistance now and gave no words to answer, but even in the dark of early morning Iris could see her mistress’s face turn crimson red. Ulrika’s body hung limp as Iris pulled down her pants to reveal the soiled diaper, filled to its capacity with piss and a solid mess that had both overflowed the padding. Iris could not even bring herself to face the bandits’ derision as she pulled the useless diaper off Ulrika’s body and slid underneath Ulrika’s soiled rear a clean one. “Tha hell? Wha’s this? Ya call ya’self the queen of Scandia? Yer a baby, a baby who still piddles in ha’ diapers!” He was almost screaming with laughter now” A voice rang out behind him. “You’ve got it wrong, that ain’t no queen! Ain’t they say, that the queen’s a monster, killin’ all the army’s soldiers? I don’t see no monsters here!” The bearded bandit turned with anger. “I kno’ a queen when ah see one! Ya look at those clothes!” Now he pushed Iris aside, and strode forward to tower over Ulrika, lying on the ground wearing a diaper for all the world to see. “Ah you a queen?” He drew his gun again. Ulrika had understood none of the exchange, and found herself suddenly starting down the barrel of a screaming assailant's gun. All she could think was that Iris’s negotiations had failed, and now she was ripe for the grave. She had not even in her body the energy to scream in terror, nor fight a final dying battle; paralyzed by fear, she could only think of the cruel fate that followed such an ignominious death. What little remained in her bladder and bowels came unconsciously tumbling out of her and into her diaper, staining the front of the white padding yellow with her urine and forming a bulge of mess in the back, all in full view of the bandit. She could hear more voices now. Were they Scandian voices? Am I already killed? “Nah, she ain’t no queen! Someone’s comin’! Let’s get outta here!” The pistol in front of her suddenly disappeared. There was to her left Iris’s impassioned pleas, a clinking of coins, more Gothian yells, and then a brief, fleeting moment of absolute silence. Then she could hear again the Scandian shouts in the distance, and felt upon the back of her neck Iris’s arms cradling her head. Slowly, slowly she found herself again. There had been no killing blow. She lived still in the realm of mortals, in the farmhouse in the heart of Gothia, in the kitchen where besides her sat Iris and a distraught young boy. How resilient children were – though his red face was streaked with tears he had swallowed his sobs and sat stoically by, absorbing in silence what had just happened. Ulrika wiped her eyes with her own sleeves and let out a long, quaking breath, and realized for the first time that her diaper was soiled with her cowardice. Her face turned hot upon seeing the dazed boy’s confused stare, and she averted her eyes when finding the child’s clothing unsullied despite all he had seen. She propped herself up with her hands, into a sitting position, and wiped the tears from her eyes, to see Iris’s face fill with elation and relief. The servant grabbed her mistress’s hands, and without even pulling up her pants to cover her soiled diaper, led Ulrika upstairs into her room, where she could hide from the foraging men and women of the Scandian Grand Army’s Third Corps.

View File Lisa Sangez Messing videos So I found this new user named Lisa Sangez and she has uploaded some new diaper messing videos. (Yes, I am aware that she is likely a sex doll. The videos are still good though) I will add her new videos here as she uploads them. Submitter cheese142 Submitted 08/16/2019 Category Female  

Girl wetting View File Enjoy 2 girl videos wetting Submitter libra Submitted 08/16/2019 Category Public wetting Clothing

Anyone ever tried the marshmallow trick? Its been a while since ive done it and ive been thinking if trying it again. Just curious what everyones opinion is of it.

Warning: Following story contains light messing I have to admit, I'm usually much more of a fall gal. I can't stand the heat most of the time, I'm super prone to sweating, and I'm not too confident in my body so my favourite outfits tend to involve lots of sweaters. Overall I'm really happy to see it finally getting colder, but there is one thing I'll miss about the summer months and that's my favourite summer pastime of wetting myself in public. Like I said, I'm not one for heat. So my favourite non wetting summer pastime is to park myself under a tree a read all day. Luckily for me, the two go together perfectly. This last summer, every day I could I would head to the beach with a book to read and a 1l bottle full of water (they had fountains so I could fill up whenever I needed). I would usually wear something something black over my bottom half to hide the wetness. One of my favourites was a black skirt that was super light and went all the way to my ankles. When I got to the beach I'd find a nice tree to sit under, I'd take out book to read and sip on my water as I did so. From there it was simple, whenever I felt the need to pee I could just let it flow without hesitation. It felt so relaxing to be able to just go in my panties whenever I wanted, I never had to get up or stop reading. It also felt really naughty, I was enjoying myself in public without anyone noticing. I always felt like I was getting away with something, which I guess I kinda was. And if I ever wanted to get up to get an ice cream or something I could. The black clothing made it really hard to notice, and even if someone did who cares? There were a million other people on the beach. One time though I was feeling especially adventurous. One day I was sitting under my tree, reading my book like usual. I had already wet myself that morning but I started to feel another need growing. Usually when I have to poo I'll find a bathroom somewhere, but I was at a really interesting part and I didn't want the discomfort of holding it. So I leaned back in such a way that my butt was off the ground but it wasn't noticeable to people walking by and started to push. It wasn't long before my panties started to fill up and the feeling was amazing. I was messing myself as people walked by with no idea what I was doing.

Perry was heading to his litter box. Candace however grabbed it "No no no, this thing has to be cleaned. Gross.." She said as she walked off somewhere holding it. Perry frowned and headed outside to his 'favorite spot' but his wrist communicator vibrates so he had to head to the agency. once Parry arrived, Major Monogram briefed him on Doofensmirtz. Perry then heads to the D.E.I. Building. He lands, but his need to pee increases. "Ah, Perry The Platypus. Just in time... to be trapped!" Doof says and liquorice ties perry' s arms and legs together. "As you can see, my Brother Rodger is about to say a speech about..." As Doof rambled on, Perry was hopeless. He couldn't do anything to hold it! " ...So, for maximum embarrassment, I built the Diaperer-Inator! Fancy title drop, ey? whenever this inator hits someone, their pants fall down to reveal them wearing a diaper! then they wet and go poo poo in the diaper. Once I zap my brother Rodger with it, he'll be so embarrassed and everyone will be laughing and I'll waltz on in and become the new ruler.. of the tri-state area!" Perry ate the liquorice hand and leg cuffs away. "Oh you ate them? Haha! Little did you know, those are designed to go right through your system!" That was true, because Perry suddenly also really had to poo. He fell and tried to hold it in, squirming. "Haha!" Doof turns the inator towards Perry, and fired. Suddenly, Perry was wearing a diaper. Perry then lost control and completely soaked as well as messed the diaper. Doof laughed and pointed the inator at Rodger. He set a timer for when Rodger officially starts the speech. Perry took off the diaper, cleaned up a bit and threw it away. He started to fight Dr.D. "No dont AGH!" the fight happens but eventually the inator powers up "it's happening!!!" He laughs and the inator fires at Rodger, and Rodger's pants drop to the ground revealing his diaper, and he uses it. "What?! Ah my sincerest apologies, I have no idea what..." meanwhile, Phineas pressed a button to a ray aimed at Candace. "And fire!" Candace who was in her room turns around. "Wh- AAAA!" Candace ducks and a beam bounced off the mirror, off a stuffed teddy bear's eye out the window and up. "Candace don't worry, that would have made you more sympathetic towards people." The beam bounced off of a satellite and hit the crowd of people watching the mayor. "..Yeah that makes sense why you wear a diaper. Youre the mayor, you don't have time for a bathroom break.." the crowd mods sympathetically. Doof jumps up and down angrily "No! No no no! That's not how it's supposed to happen!!" Perry then pressed the self destruct button and glided away. "Noo! Curse you Perry the platypus!!!" The inator exploded and sent off two beams into space. doof lied there "Ugh.." One beam bounced off the satellite around Candace's room and right into the sympathetic ray, it exploding before Mom could see it. the other ray bounced off of the satellite too but bounced off of some mirrors in a mirror shop and it hit doof, doof's pants sliding down revealing a diaper being wet and messed. Doof sighed. "Of course." he finished up and changed. "Shame the ray blew up before Candace could get hit by it. Whatever, at least we tried!" Phineas said as Perry arrived. "Oh, there you are Perry!"

View File Poo accident scene from Kom Payabaht This cute scene comes from the Thai TV show "Kom Payabaht". A gorgeous girl in a sexy student uniform is bursting to poo and goes into a store to use the toilet. Unfortunately for her, and fortunately for us, a woman goes into the toilet in front of her, leaving her desperately banging on the door until she loses control and goes in her skirt. Her friend then laughs at her, and she squeals in distress. It's nothing graphic, but very sexy nonetheless.  Submitter Male Submitted 08/21/2019 Category Desperation Clothing Skirt

This is a several part work I have been toying around with for some time now, I decided to finally sit down and start writing it. and without further ado Maid to order Chapter 1: Interview Fiona Salasbar arrived at the mansion that would be her place of residence and employment for the next 3 months Her parents had arranged it all, it was training for a career in business that her parents had her slated for, Fiona was a bright girl who lacked confidence, shy, easily startled, and a little bit more accident-prone than the average 16-year-old girl. This opportunity was the product of a chance encounter between her father and the wealthy entrepreneur that had occurred over ten years ago just before she was born where her father had saved a stranger on the street from being fatally crushed by a falling piano by tackling him. Both her father and the man were unscathed. Her father told her how he had originally been fearful that the well to do individual would sue him or attempt to press charges for assault or some similar crime as was all too common at the time. Instead, the man offered her father a lucrative job and had become Fiona's godfather. The man her father had saved was Jhon Hawthorne a successful entrepreneur with a wide range of connections in the business world. The place of her employment was the Hawthorne estate, The residence of John Hawthorne, and one of his side businesses, a training program for turning young women into invaluable Managers and Personal assistants. His curriculum instilled aspiring young women with discipline, confidence, and a unique brand of professionalism that was sought after in the upper echelons of the business world. Fiona Sat in the office of the man her parents had told her so much about, they admonished her repeatedly telling her the story over and over again stressing that she was to be polite, express her gratefulness and mind her manners in front of the man before her, the man named john hawthorn who had given their family almost all they currently had. Fiona was in some of her nicest informal clothes, a checkered skirt that stopped just above the knee and a peach-colored blouse. Fiona felt her heart fluttering, and her throat was dry on the ride there, without realizing it she had consumed a full three bottles of water. Fiona's first task at the Hawthorne estate was a mock interview, The result was irrelevant but Fiona would experience several such interviews over the course of her stay, it served to measure her progress as time went on “Have a seat, Fiona right, You should be Andrew’s Daughter, Even if I am your godfather I won’t treat you any different from the other students ” Fiona felt her heart in her throat, if someone looked closely, they could see her knees trembling slightly as a small unnoticeable drop of amber liquid ran down her leg something Fiona herself was unaware of The man had sharp almost carved features dark hair and deep, piercing, amber eyes. His voice was gentle but carried a strong almost soothing baritone. The study where the interview took place was immaculate and neatly arrange, The desk made of an ornately carved and stained wood of a dark and rich brown, its lacquer perfectly maintained. On it was a small 30-second hourglass made from silver and oak. The man, Jhon Hawthorne remained seated a comfortable looking leather chair just as perfect as the desk, not a stitch out of Place An ornate rug adorned the hardwood floor, and in front of the fine wooden desk was a small white linen-covered chair Fiona sat down as few more golden drops exited her She was far too preoccupied with her own nervousness to be aware of her desperation and unconscious voiding “Let us begin with introductions, Jhon Hawthorne” “F-Fiona Salasbar” She spoke and extended her hand to meet his, The hand was rough, and callused, his handshake was firm but not uncomfortable. “well Fiona, you’ve already made two mistakes, grip firmly, not feebly, and speak from the diaphragm you are a woman, not a mouse” Fiona felt her cheeks heat up, she gripped man's hand more tightly while Clenching her legs unconsciously on reflex, giving a small shake before releasing her grip. “What are your Skills” Sansa’s mind went blank and she suddenly became aware of her need to visit the restroom “I um, I, Bathroom” Sansa got up from the chair and took a few shaking steps toward the door shaking like a leaf, dribbles, and spurts of urine running down her legs, her underwear had long since reached the point of saturation as the liquid ran down her legs past her skirt. Fiona left a pair of obvious trails behind her as she struggled to get to the door with slow almost uncertain steps. Jhon Hawthorne watched with a deadpan look but in his eyes a faint light of something approaching amusement could be seen, as the girl before him had yet to ask for the location of the bathroom and was clearly unable to make the trip, the chair that she had been seated at had a record-sized yellow stain and the rug might already be ruined. “Terra Could you show our new trainee the facilities” “Of course master” With both the request and the reply a strong spurt of urine shot down Fiona's legs, Terra a large woman in a French maid outfit guided the leaking Fiona down the hall by the elbow “Oh and make sure to provide her with any accommodations you see fit” “Certainly Master, Leave it to me”

A world where your dreams can become reality...... Where you can live out your fantasies.. And be happy forever...... Wouldn't that be a wonderful world? Wouldn't it be a paradise? Wouldn't it be much easier than reality? So much better..... So much less Painful.... So much more fulfilling..... Won't you please join me? ======================================================================================================================================= [Chapter 1: Intro] "Mmmmnnn..." A soft groan, as the rays of the morning sun peeked through a set of half-closed blinds.... Gently rousing the previously sleeping figure just in view of the window. A toss, a turn, and a yawn heralded the eventual awakening of the subject hidden beneath the blanketed bed.... A boy in teal pajamas, with messy brown hair. Tossing his covers aside, and kicking off the side of the bed, the surroundings were the same as ever to him. A sizable room, with a computer on a desk an the far end, a swivel chair that had spun about the opposite way, a dresser that likely contained his clothes to the side, a closet that held his other things in the corner, the blinds that betrayed delayed slumber habits letting in peeks from the windows.... And, naturally, several large posters on the wall of the famous idol, Mu. A majestic beauty, with flawless, creamy light skin....Long, white hair that dangled off the side in a cute ponytail... Round and soft violet-shaded eyes, a low-cut white dress that teased at her picturesque, not-too big, or too small breasts, and knee-high white socks, that ended with matching white, heeled shoes. Some of the other posters were of various angles, be it from above, to the side, or even nearly risque from-below views.... The idol's face lightly flushed, but not adverse...... And in the corner of every single poster.... Was a beautifully-written signature, gracing each and every one with the mark of approval.... The signature of Mu herself, with a small heart next to each of them. "Mmm.. Good morning, my Idol~" the boy called to the posters, standing on his tip-toes to kiss at one of the posters with a side view.... Drawn to look like one was walking beside her, as he started to go through his dresser... Pulling out a uniform, and tossing it haphazardly behind him on the bed. A quick shutting of the dresser, and the swivel chair was spun back around.... The boy quickly taking a seat and firing up the computer, without even looking behind him to ensure the clothes reached their destination. No, uniforms could wait...... Today was a special day.... Something he confirmed for the sixth or seventh time over the course of the past two days... A mixture concert and lottery! The concert, naturally, was to be held by none other than Mu herself... But the lottery? Not only was it a year-long, free-pass to all of her concerts....But you also got to talk to her! For five whole minutes! With only one of her handlers around! "I waited in line for three hours for the first ticket..." the boy called to himself, reaching into his pajama top to pull out a.......Ticket, held in a locket. [001] Naturally, as her biggest fan, no other number would be appropriate..... As browsing on the web for a few minutes, followed by some feverish typing...Eventually lead to the boy standing up, clutching his ticket, and pumping his fists. "Alright! It's time to go!" the boy called, quickly changing into his uniform... A greyish white, unbuttoned blazer, a forest green, button-up shirt beneath, and long, black pants that ended with brown loafers. "I'll be seeing you, my Idol!" The boy waved his hand back at the myriad of posters, and started out of his bedroom... Revealing a rather...modest apartment building that was mostly barren... Save for his bag near the door, a fridge, and an oven on the far end. He scooped up the bag, grabbed his keys, and darted out into the bright, sunny morning.... Starting on his morning jog to school. "Kishimai High School.." he stated to himself again, recounting the past few days. He'd been transferred here a few months back, it felt. Moved to his own building, tuition free, and was introduced to the lovely Idol Mu... "Morning, Senpai!" "Good to see you, Senpai!" "You're looking great, Senpai!" Plus, to his surprise, a whole school that was filled to the brim with girls! Not that he particularly minded the myriad of girls, in all shapes and sizes.... But, it seemed disproportionately female to him. He couldn't remember if he knew a single male student other than himself, as he paced into the school grounds. "Thank you, thank you.." Of course, while there were girls tall and small... Shapely, or flat...or anything in between, all that could tick various marks of appeal, he would only commit himself to his one, true Idol, Mu! "Aaahh...I..It's an emergency...!" a soft voice cried out, music to his ears as he suddenly swerved to the left.... Beside the brilliant, majestic school building, and juuuuuust a short ways into the school gardens.... Was a modestly endowed girl, with long, braided teal hair, shifting wildly in place as she looked at a small patch of flowers. Her hands were buried in the black uniform skirt of school, though based on her destination... It wasn't going to be there long. The boy didn't dare interrupt such an affair, merely watching as the skirt was rolled up, and a silky green fabric was tugged down, marred with damp tension....As the girl knelt down beside the bed of flowers. "Haaaaaah...!" the girl sighed contently, as a healthy spray gushed from the girl's personal faucet, pale-yellow liquid splashing, and pooling in the soil of the gardens. "Ohhhhh... Ohhhhh... Gotta stop drinking so much tea first thing in the day.... Ohhh, at least the stain's small...." The boy gave a small smile, getting a nice view of creamy thighs and shapely posterior.....Before turning to move on along to class. chuckling a bit. "Mmm... Always nice to see a Moon in the morning." he mused to himself with a chuckle, closing his eyes and picturing it once more. If there was something else notable about the school than it's copious amount of females... "Ahhhnnn.....Why is it always like this?!" "C'mon, let me go ahead of you...!" "N-N-No way... If i wait any longer, it's gonna be a crisis.." Was the seeming popularity of nearly-popping piddle pots. It seemed almost every break, every recess from scholastic, every moment he wasn't focused on schoolwork... "Ahhh..!!! Sorry, but it's coming out..!" one of the girl's voices wailed as she charged into the girl's bathroom... Without waiting for an opening. He ponders for a few moments if she'll manage to find some last-second relief method, but then moves right along. 'Not adverse to the idea, of course..' he thought with another small grin, as he paced down the halls. 'Though, I do wish more girls would stumble into the men's room for their relief.' I mean, he was practically the only guy around... What harm would ti be for them to.. make use of it? Soon enough though, class was upon him... Cutting out the majority of these fantasies, as he feigned interest in his class. The teachers at the school were nice, and helpful enough...But, he felt like he already knew everything they had to teach. A lesson would come up, he'd acknowledge it, and he'd mentally tune out as he solved assigned problems... Then started to idly sketch in his notebook, waiting for class to come to a close..... "And don't forget to read the next chapter, before tomorrow's lesson!" the teacher called, just as the bell rang. "We'll be going over it then!" He'd already finished the book, but glancing over it later couldn't hurt too much... As he packed his things away, and started out to his next class, watching the line at the girl's with another sly grin.... Before resigning himself to his math class. 'Add the bed, subtract the clothes...' he mused lightly in his head as he glanced over some of the girls. 'Divide the legs, and..' "Pssst... Senpai, do you know how this works? I'm totally lost..." "Pray... Oh, yeah sure." he responded, snapping out of his...questionable thoughts, as he leaned over. "You just gotta..." Even if he got everything easily, didn't mean everyone did... But, he thoroughly enjoyed being able to help any of the girls that came his way for help. It was noble, it was just... And he certainly wasn't thinking anything lewd as he looked them over... Like how his current charge's black bra strap was showing under her uniform top....... The ringing of the bell ended his little tutoring session, but prompted something much more enjoyable.... "Lunch!" He always enjoyed lunch time...For the school's surprisingly delectable selection, and also.... "Senpai, do you wanna eat lunch with me?" A shapely, red haired girl called with a bright smile. "Oh, sure thing, Ayam-" he started, going to return the smile... "Get away from me, you braindead, horndog, chimpanzee." Only to hear a completely different voice from the girl.. Her hair...changing colors to brown, and the bright smile being replaced with a loathsome scowl. He blinked a few times, and rubbed his eyes, seeing a black pattern over the girl's head for a few moments, before returning to the red haired girl again. "Senpai? Are you okay?" the girl asked, his nose picking up the scent of strawberries...As he lightly shook his head. "Uh...Yeah... Sure." he remarked, brushing his hair with his hands lightly. "C'mon... Let's go." The lunchroom was lively, but not too loud, as he quietly ate lunch... Pondering if he'd just imagined the scowl, and black patterns. 'Usually, even the coarser girls are a bit more...' he thought, thinking of the dozens, if not hundreds he'd seen. 'Gentle, with their words..' He didn't have too long to ponder about the mysterious occurrences, as the table next to his had some... action. "Hm? Where are you going, Megu?" a shapely girl, with black hair called over to another, far smaller dark haired girl... That lightly quivered as she turned her head.. "H..hm...I...I just need a minute..." the petite girl responded... Someone else leaning over. "She's going to the bathroom, Yun." another girl, with messy blonde hair called in a quiet tone... But not too quiet for him to pick up.. "Ah? But I thought 'Crimson Demons Don't need to use the bathroom'" the shapely girl responded, prompting a flinch from the smaller girl... And another smile to curl at the boy's lips. 'Ah yes... The Crimson Demon.' he thought to himself, feeling his own face flushing a bit. 'Great power, super totally actually a mage... And just.. too bold for her own good.' "R..Right... Right, I'm just going to the... Uh...Getting to science early!" she stated, quickly. "I've gotta catch up on some work... A...And a crimson demon is never late, either!" "Really..?" the shapely girl responded in a disbelieving tone... As the boy decided to make his move. "Right! Let's go then." he stated, firmly. "I'll help you with that work. If you don't object of course..." The petite girl flinched, but gave a small nod, eyes glancing to the lunchroom doors. "R..right.. .S..sure.." she stated quietly, looking like she was regretting her words already. "L...lead the way, senpai.." He waved a goodbye to the red haired girl, and started along with the petite black haired girl... Watching her stagger, and shift every few steps....Pausing to let her catch up, before he came upon a... certain area.. "Ah, go on ahead..." he stated, stopping outside of another set of bathrooms. "Crimson demons may not need to go, but a lowly human like me has to." He could practically feel the flush-tration coming off of the girl as he ducked into the barren men's room.. Moving specifically to the middle stall, as he shut and latched the door... Above the commode, was what looked like some kind of chiseled drawing of some kind of bird with a long beak.... A toucan? A Stork? He wasn't entirely sure, but just a little below the bird's beak.... Was a small hole, that he could press against the wall and peer through to see straight into one of the stalls in the girl's room, into one of the squat toilets.... It was a long shot...... Four stalls, to one peephole..... It was unlikely, even given he'd lead the crimson demon to the bathroom with a bursting piddle pot, but he had a feeling today was his lucky day.... A thought confirmed as he heard the rattling of the door, seeing it rock a bit as someone on the other end struggled to open it......Prompting his heart to race... 'Here it comes...!' he thought to himself.....Before the door flew open and..... "Hrnnngh....Stupid...creep.." the grumbling of a girl's voice called, prompting a light flinch from the boy... As he could see the familiar face of the...angry brown haired girl his friend had briefly (seemingly) Transformed into, as she latched the door. "K..Keeping me in that lunchroom for so long.... After classes have been going on forever..." The girl had a long, black dress in lieu of the school's shorter skirts.... Prompting her to slide her hands down to roll it up her hips. "If he'd kept me any longer.... I'd have...have had to kill him..." she snarled, pale blue fabric being slid down her legs.... Part of it significantly darker than the rest of it, as some light dribbles could be seen on the floor beneath her... "Hnnngnhhhh... .Ahhhhh.. Haaaaaaaahhhhhnnn.." the girl groaned, grumbled... .and then sighed.... No mere stream, but a healthy, out and out gushing starting to spray all over the commode.... Puddling a pale, clear yellow lake under her. Her scowl had melted to a neutral, almost-half smile.... And her scornful eyes had fluttered close... Looking.... Looking like quite a pleasant, cute girl..... As her body pumped out what seemed like pints of pent-up piddle.... The boy finding himself unable to stop staring through the little peephole.... For what felt like a small eternity. His heart was pounding, his mind was racing.... And yet, as the girl's eyes opened.... Almost as if they looked straight to him.... He saw the blackness, and backed away... Wondering if he'd been spotted...... Daring to peek back in, and flinching to see the red haired girl he'd had lunch with, in place of the brown haired angry girl. pale blue with a wet splotch had been replaced with a deep red with a similar stain, as the girl stood up, wiping herself down. "Mmm.. I hope senpai's okay.." she sounded to herself, turning around as she pulled her underwear up... A skirt that only fluttered to her mid-thigh landing down, as the boy backed out of his peeping spot once more.... "Did...Did I really see that.." he asked himself quietly, vividly remembering the angry, brown haired girl.... But then, the red haired one. "Or... or, is something going on..." He left the stall, washed his hands, and...quietly waited, to see who would come out of the girl's room.... One minute.... Two....Three.... And yet, no one left it. He was starting to think something was wrong with him, as the bell started to ring... Prompting his attention elsewhere. "Shit.. I can't be late for class!" he snapped, sprinting down the filling halls, moving towards his science class, thoughts racing.... What was that black thing he kept seeing? Who was the brown haired girl? Where did the crimson demon go..? "Ah, if you'll take your seat.." the teacher's voice called, prompting him to take his thoughts to his chair, as he mentally recounted the scenes again...... 'Don't think I've seen her before...' he though, quietly. 'And... the way she just.. takes the place of her.. What's going on..' He thought for a few scant moments about this, before noticing the figure sitting next to him... A squirming, shifting, writhing figure of petite status.... Hands buried in her lap, and teeth clenched as she suffered in silence... The 'Crimson Demon', in clearly dire straits.... "Well, maybe I can think about that later..' he thought to himself as he grabbed his pencil and glanced over at the squirming subject, starting to feel his worries melting away. 'Between this, the concert, and the lottery, I've got enough on my plate..' And probably the lesson too....You know, if he felt like it... ==================================================================================================================================

I've wanted to do another Yuka story for awhile. This one is a rewrite of the first story I wrote called The Thief and The Holy Girl. This time though, I wanted to make a longer, more fleshed-out story with more situations. I'll give the warning that this first part has no drawn out desperation, but that will be coming later. If casual peeing/pooping isn't your thing, then this first part isn't going to tickle your pickle. __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Part I In the courtyards of the prison, she could hear them talking, though just barely. “So what did she do?” One guard asked another. “Assaulted a noble. There was a brawl in a small teahouse, nice little place. A couple of kids got rowdy, just as Lord Danshin’s son was visiting. In the whole mess, this girl, thin as a beanpole lashes out at somebody and misses him. Hits the noble’s kid square in the jaw.” The first guard seemed to find it difficult to take in. “This is that girl down in the cellar, right? The cute one with blonde hair?” “Yep. Anyway, where was I? Oh, right, so anyway, Danshin’s kid, now covered in tea, starts hollering and screaming. He demands whoever struck him must be executed. By now, the rest of these kids have realized who it is screaming and they’ve bolted out the front door. Not the girl though, she was just stood there.” “So she’s sat in that cell waiting for the gallows?” “Nope. A few weeks before we were meant to do it, Captain of the guard comes to visit personally. Claims Lord Danshin’s kid was way out of hand and that her sentence be lowered to a life imprisonment. So she’s shoved down into the cellar and left to rot.” “Shame, she’s cute.” In the bowels of the prison, in the old cells deep beneath the ground, a thief had been locked up. For the crime of assaulting a noble, she was to miss trial and be sent straight to the gallows. But the sun shone from her arse one lucky day when that execution was reduced to life imprisonment. This thief was Yunoko Tanobi, a blonde-haired miscreant and extremely talented. It was her who had raised her fist to that noble, striking him square in the cheek. Now, she was left to rot in this cell. She was a sharp, tomboyish girl of nineteen years. Courtesy of her thin frame, she had a sharp, distinct face with amethyst coloured eyes. She had long, straw-coloured hair that reached her shoulders, or would if it did not flick upwards. It was as if a banana skin had been discarded atop her head. That was the joke that was shared among her friends. The well-renowned beauty of Orientian girls was lost to Yunoko, with her wide whimsical eyes that always seemed to be looking for something and her thin crooked lips that held a certain sinister intend buried behind a friendly grin. As for her body, she was thin and built like a beanpole, barely an ounce of fat on her. She was skinny, lanky, and well shaped only around her arse, which she often touted as been her best feature. Even without any sun for so long, she was still a light tan colour. Appearance meant little to her, and her philosophy for thievery had always been the less she wore, the less constricted she felt. Because of this she often favoured a long white robe without sleeves; She’d torn them off believing it made her difficult to grab. She’d been right until recently. Beneath her robe, she covered her breasts, barely, with a brown corset that exposed her midriff. Were it not for laws, or the constant propositions from drunk horny men in the late hours, she’d happily walk around with her assets on display. Her shorts were a dull beige and often so low she’d catch a stray wind against the crack of her arse and lastly her boots were simple, made of leather, stained with all kinds of muck that littered the streets. Today had been a day like every other day that had passed since she’d been locked up. Yuka had woken up, tended to a pesky inch on her arse, and hobbled over to the corner of her cell, scratching herself the whole way. Still half asleep, she’d squat down over the drain and take a long, hissing piss into the waiting abyss. She’d yawn, let out a tired groan and fart, all while her water rushed beneath her. She’d sigh with relief as a whole nights worth of water poured from between her legs, splattering against the iron grate beneath her. Once she was almost finished, she’d peer between her legs and watched the last of her piss rain down in the unending darkness beneath her. After she’d taken her morning piss, she’d shake off the stray dribbles, cursing the lack of paper she was given as she jiggled her butt to get dry, then pull up her shorts and get breakfast. An iron tray would always be waiting by her cell door. On it was a bowl of porridge, unsweetened, lumpy, and more like gruel, as well as a cold cup of green tea. Seeing that miserable excuse for food made her long to be back in the capital, eating meat and drinking wine once more. She’d sit on her bed, slowly nibbling at the lumps of porridge and sipping her green tea. Some days she’d think about the Thieves Guild, and others she’d think about Ania, hoping one day she could feel her soft embrace again. Once breakfast was finished, there was nothing to do but sit on her bed until nature called. Once she heard the moan of her stomach, she’d jump up from her bed and head back to the corner of her cell, where she’d yank down her trousers and take a dump over the drain. With a soft grunt, Yuka farted. She wrapped her arms around her legs and emptied her bowels into the hole. Eating nothing but porridge had given her a soft stomach. She’d farted again, only this time it was wet. After a few seconds of wiggling her backside, she’d feel her hole yawn and a slither of soft mess wormed its way between her cheeks. It passed easily, like slop. It fell into the sewers beneath with an echoing splat. Once she was relieved, Yuka hopped up, her shorts still around her knees, and reached for the papers she used to wipe. Most of what she used for paper were pages from the books she was given in ‘care packages’ which were often sent courtesy of an old friend. She took a few papers and bent back down. “You guys bring me this drivel, but won’t bust me out.” She scrunched up the paper angrily in her palm and used it to wipe her arse. Taking a dump was the last notable thing of the day in Yuka’s routine. With the exception of one call at noon to give her another thimble of bland tea, all she could do until lights out was lie down on her bed and stare up at the cold concrete ceiling. For most people, that would be enough to drive them insane. Not for Yuka, she held onto the hope that her friends were planning something to get her out of here. She was the best thief they had, no job went without loot when she was the one running it. Those thoughts were what kept her sane. Once or twice, if the feeling took her, she’d even entertain herself with her fingers. But touching herself couldn’t compete with the touch of a tavern girl. Their soft, almost silk-like touch gently fingering the soft spot between her legs as she’d grope their bare breasts was a feeling she missed greatly. Often, as she played with herself, she’d sigh, yearning for the touch of another woman, and it was those thoughts that entertained her and pushed her toward pleasure. The day passed, and evening came quickly. Not that Yuka could tell. There was no window in her cell and the only way she knew of the passage of time was by the Prison belltower. She lay in her bed, one foot hanging over the other and both hands behind her head. She sighed. “Someday…” Her longing to escape was interrupted when her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and that dire excuse for porridge hardly sustained her through the whole day. Dinnertime had to be soon, or so Yuka thought. An hour passed, signaled by the ringing of the bell, and still no food. Yuka grumbled, jumped up from her bed and angrily approached her cell door. “HEY!” She yelled through the bars of her cell door. The words echoed but nobody seemed to care. “HEY!” She called again, this time rattling the iron bars. Her calls were answered; The sound of heavy footsteps pounded against the old stone of the prisons cellar. A looming shadow that only grew as it approached her swept along the concrete walls. A large bull of a man appeared, wrapped up from head to toe in steel and leather armour. He stood at nearly twice the size of the prison doors and glared down at Yuka with dead soulless eyes. “What?” He said calmly, but there was no kindness in his voice. “I’m hungry.” Yuka scowled. “Dinner was meant to be an hour ago.” “You eat when we say you eat, Prisoner.” The man tapped the handle of his greataxe against the stone floor. His cold lifeless stare did not ease up and he leant forward to match Yuka’s height. She wasn’t easily intimidated by the Brutes display. A thousand cunts twice her size had tried that before him, and few could scare her. She too leant forward, mimicking every action he did; she slapped her hands against her hips, leant in until she could smell the cheap booze and aging meat on his breath and scowled, baring her teeth. “Dinner was meant to be an hour ago.” She repeated herself quietly this time, displaying a seething anger in her voice. BANG! It happened quickly. The Guard, for a large boorish brute, was certainly quick with that axe. He slammed it against the cell door, rattling the metal and sending a howling echo through the cellar. Shocked by the sudden rattling of the bars, Yuka fell backwards, unable to comprehend what had just happened for a second. She nearly fell arse-first onto the floor of the cell, but managed to save her backside the hard landing. “You eat when we say you eat, Prisoner.” He growled again, wrapping his meaty hands around the handle of the axe and cackling. All Yuka could reply with was a long cold stare that tried to hide her anger. Her heart was pounding from the fear that strike brought her, but she buried it in the pit of her stomach. I’d kick you in the fucking balls if I could. She thought, holding her tongue. “Fine…” She gave in, scrambled to stand up straight and brushed off the dust that had landed on the bottom of her robe. There was a twinge in her bladder as she bent over to reach her robe, and again the need to take piss had made itself known. “I’m going for a piss.” Yuka waved her hand feebly in the air, brushing off what the guard said like it did not bother her, and strolled over to the corner of her cell. There was no privy in her cell, or even a small hole to squat over. Her cell was directly above the sewers and in the corner of her room was an old drain that connected to them. Apparently it was an old drain for throwing old food waste down into the sea, and that was what Yuka had for relieving herself, a squalid old drain. It didn’t bother her too much. She’d pissed in far worse places in her time. The only thing that bothered her was the smell that crept up, and she even grew used to that eventually. She approached the drain, one hand already fiddling with the button on her shorts. The feeling of fullness that pushed against her bladder was mild, but it made itself known. It had been a while since she’d last taken a piss. This morning actually. She unbuttoned her shorts, hooked her fingers around her knickers and pulled them down. She turned around, angled herself over the iron grate that led to the sewers and squatted down over it. She couldn’t go so easily. Out of the corner of her, Yuka could see the guard was watching her squat. She could see those wide, bloodshot eyes leering at her, hoping to get a peek of something. She raised her middle finger to the leering guard and hissed. “Hey, I’m trying to take a leak!” The guard growled. He tapped his axe against the stone and leant toward the cell door. “Turn the fuck around!” Yuka yelled. The guard growled again, and this time he shook his head in disgust. His hand disappeared behind the wall and he pulled the mouldy old curtain over her cell door, bathing her cell in near darkness. She had some privacy, at least. Yuka shuffled over the grate to get comfortable. She found it hard to piss if she wasn’t comfortable. She spread her legs slightly and sighed. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she huffed and let her bladder handle the rest. But before she could, something caught her attention down deep in the sewers. Yuka held back her water and peered down between her legs. She noticed a very faint light from deep below illuminating a small patch of mouldy stone. A lantern. “What the…” Somebody was walking through the sewers, and they were getting closer. The thought of somebody wandering beneath her cell gave Yuka a menacing thought. One that made her grin. For no other reason that to amuse herself, she watched the light grow closer. When it was right beneath her, she intended to open the floodgates and piss right on the head of whoever was beneath her. The light came right beneath the grate and stopped. It was still too dark for Yuka to tell who it was, but it was probably just a guard; some poor bastard who’d been sent on rat extermination. She didn’t care, her piss didn’t discriminate. With a big grin, Yuka shuffled again, angling herself properly and lowered her butt closer to the grate until her butthole was almost puckered up with the dirt steel. With a mischievous grin, she relaxed and let her river flow. “I think this is it.” Somebody beneath her spoke. It was a boy, and the voice sounded familiar. “Are you sure?” A female replied to him. “The map says it’s her cell. Right beneath the sewers, right?” “Alright, get the rope.” They were talking about her, they had to be. Nobody else was locked up in the cellar. The rest had already been carted off to the gallows or released. “Who are they…” Yuka held herself, halting her water right at the tip of her maidenly spout. It stung, and she grimaced, but it subsided quickly. “Yunoko, you up there?” The boy called up. Before she could reply, Yuka peered around the corner of the drain, and upon seeing the shadow of the guard was gone, she called back down. “Who the fuck’s down there?” The boy didn’t answer. “Move aside Mouri.” The girl spoke in his place. “Yunoko, I’m gonna shoot a rope up to you. Get ready to catch it.” “Hey hol-” She couldn’t even get her words out before she heard a whistle fast approaching her. It was a dart, and behind it a length of rope was unfurling. It shot up through the drain, barely missing her left arsecheek. “Fucking hell…” Yuka cursed, feeling the wind of the dart. “You almost gave me a second arsehole.” With nibble things, she grabbed the dart before it could fall back between the iron bars. “Alright, I’ve got it.” “Now tie it to the pipe running across the wall.” The girl ordered her. “Can I at least, you know, pull my knickers back up?” “Now, Yunoko.” The girl sounded low on patience. “Fine…” Yuka sighed. She followed the girls orders and tied the rope around one of the metal pipes running along the wall of her cell. Her shorts fell down further and landed atop her boots, revealing her bare arse to a cold drought that felt refreshing in more places than one. As she tied the rope, Yuka thought to herself for a moment; she was sure she’d heard the name Mouri. It couldn’t be. She hadn’t seen him in months. He was one of her few friends in the Thieves Guild and a boy with far too little stones to be doing something as daring as a prison breakout. She tied the rope around the pipe and finished tying the knot. “Alright, done.” “Mouri, hand me those gems.” “A-Amida…” The boy shook his words. Yuka could hear his nerves quivering just from the sound of his voice. “D-Do you mind if I do it?” The girl sighed. “You’re kidding.” Things went silent for a moment. “Think you’re up for it? Remember make it quick and use these gems around the corners of the drain. Remember: The corners. Say it with me.” “The corners.” The boy repeated those words. “Amida? Mouri?” Yuka recognized Amida too, and now it was absolutely clear. She hadn’t been forgotten about and left to rot in prison. The Thieves Guild had actually grown some stones and come to break her out. “I didn’t think you two had the balls to come do this.” Yuka grinned. She felt all warm, her heart was fluttering and she felt a joy she hadn’t felt since she was last on the outside. After a minute, Mouri arrived at the top of the rope. He appeared beneath the grate with a less than satisfied look on his face. He’d grown in these three months, or so it looked that way. His dark hair had grown and a thin layer of fluff was growing on his lower lip. He looked like a man now. “Hey Mouri.” Yuka giggled. “Getting a good view of my arse from there?” She wiggled her backside. “Wanna give it a kiss?” The young thief’s cheeks burned a bright crimson at the sight of Yuka’s bare thighs, as well as her more personal of assets being wiggled in his face. He averted his gaze and looked straight ahead at the gross walls of the sewer. “Now is not the time for messing around, Yuka.” His words stumbled. “Come on, pull your shorts up and let’s go.” “This is the first time I’ve had a lads face this close to my arse.” She reveled in his embarrassment. Already, it was like old times, and that made her joyous inside. She hopped to her feet, pulled her shorts back up and buttoned them up. That piss would have to wait, at least she would have the pleasure of an actual toilet… or an alley. “You’re lucky, I was gonna piss on your head.” Mouri ignored Yuka and did exactly was Amida had ordered him to do. With four small orange gems in the palm of his hand, he pressed one against each corner of the drain. A small orange flame erupted from his hand and burned away at the metal, melting it almost instantly. On the final corner, he rested a gloved hand against the grate, relying on his legs to keep him on the rope, and caught it one the gem had melted away the last piece of metal. He shimmied up the rope and gently placed the grate on the floor of the cell. The sight of the barren cell twisted his face with disgust. “This is what you’ve had to live in for three months?” He asked. “And that’s what I’ve had to shit in.” Yuka pointed to the open drain. “Let’s get going before that numb fuck out there realizes what’s going on.” Yuka climbed onto the rope and descending with Mouri into the depths of the sewers. “Hey Mouri?” She whispered. “What?” “Thanks for not forgetting me.” Yuka smiled warmly.

Hoo boy!~ I had the most interesting morning today! So, I recently engaged in a little pull up adventure, I wrote about it, and I loved it so much I wanted to do something like that again!!! Buuuut, unfortunately I'm kinda out. But I'm a resourceful little girl! Like many of you have before I used a certain absorbent device that may or may not have been designed for something else entirely to create a make-shift diaper. Eight of them to be exact! They were pretty thing, four in the front, and four in the back, for ultimate coverage! (Spoiler, it didn't leak ^w^). I made my little science experiment around 4 am, stuffing them into my panties, trying to spread them out so that all parts of body touched them, it wasn't for a real purpose, other than I wanted it to 'feel' like a diaper, y'know? And if it was in one area, sure it'd work as a diaper, but I wouldn't get that, "I'm a little girl wearing a diaper" feeling! Once I put it on I went into my backyard where I began to fun! I found a nice place by my woods put my hands against a tree, and let go~ First I had a number two, It came out surprisingly nice and easy, it felt all squishy, hehe~ Then, I had my number one! I was standing there for a while! I had been holding for the majority of the night, and every few seconds I wondered if my 'diaper' was going to give out, surprisingly when I was all good and done, it didn't!!! And I had a wonderful warm feeling trapped inside my absorbent little undies. At that point, it was time to begin, the games! You see, I was outside for a reason, and that was because I had a select list of activities planned out for the night. Firstly, I have a relic of my childhood in my backyard, it's a swing right? But the swing is this little horsey, I love riding it when no one's lookin' it makes me feel so little! So naturally, I sat my little self down on the swing, and of course that spread my mess all around, I took a moment to hop! Letting it squish and squash about, Before swinging on the set back and forth for a few seconds! After that, I went toward a bench, sitting down, like a good girl! At this point my mess was flattened out! Perfectly even! And I took my phone out of my shirt pocket, and began to watch as many little princess potty training videos as I can handle, at full volume too! No one caught me, but I was imagining someone hearing it, coming outside to investigate, and finding my sitting down in a very wet and messy homemade diapee watchin' potty training videos for baby girls. The final fun time activity, was somethin' that I'm personally into separate from omo, and that's wedgies! I love the feeling it gives and I have, just the most perfect tree in my yard to dangle from! I stacked up some of our firewood and used it to reach these two hooks that come out of the tree, made sure to put the leg holes onto it, and boop! I kicked the logs and squeaked in my own perfect diaper wedgie! The padding absorbed most of the pain, but (this may be pretty gross, so warning) some of the mess went running down my pants and out of my legs since the wedgie displaced it, but the padding was fine! I 'hanged out' for a few minutes until my panties ripped and I fell down. When all was said and done, and I had less of a diaper and more of a mess, I cleaned up, packed everything into a bag, tossed it in the bin, and took a very long shower for clean up time!! I even took a little picture of my padding in the grass before dumping it, BUT, I don't think I can upload it, because even though I closed it, there's some poop showing in the picture, so sorry! I hope you enjoyed reading my story! I love doing things like this, and I love hearing what you think of it a heck of a lot more! Thank you!

I am looking for pictures of Masyanya in scat related scenarios, or farting. Actually. I’m open to ANY kink art involving her. If anyone is interested in my idea, post your art here!

View File Baby girl Cheshire messes panties "Little Cheshire is wearing a short skirt and pink Elmo panties…she is close to the potty, but not paying attention so she doesn’t realize she has to go and has a big accident in her panties. It feels yucky and she’s super embarassed. She tries to ignore the mess, but it just feels worse and worse, so she swallows her pride and calls Daddy for help." Submitter melikai Submitted 03/10/2019 Category Desperation Clothing

Read First I'm really sorry if this against the rules, but I went ahead and created a new topic with tags. I didn't want to write anything that would be offensive to people who weren't into certain kinks and such. I'll continue to write this for a bit since it's been a pretty fun to practice writing. If any moderators come across this, Please just delete the original topic by the same name! Also added a doodle of Miyuki, not great but thought it would be nice to kinda show what I think, since my writing isn't the best. Chapter 1 On a quiet Friday night a tired diligent artist works on a new idea for a short romantic comedy 4-koma. She finishes typing up her script before saving, and putting her computer to sleep. Miyuki Izumi, had been working all day typing up her disappointingly short script. Even spending sometime at work, spaced out, day dreaming about the idea. She wasn't normally a bad employee, but her mind usually always revolved around her artwork, and nothing else. At 21 years of age, Miyuki held a decent salaryman job, as an office worker. She wasn't particularly skilled in much, beyond her drawing skills so often times she had to give it her 100% at her workplace in order to do her job correctly Drawing was something that plagued Miyuki she was quite an artist, but often doubted her own work. Often choosing to lie in bed scrolling through other artists work. She had serious issues with self esteem, and self confidence. She was a very short girl, along with her undesirable breast size and was also quite plain in terms of her fashion, Usually wearing longer skirts with a long sleeve sweater, or sweatpants and a t-shirt if she was home in her apartment. Even down to her large glasses she wore because of her bad eyesight. But despite these sometimes helpless feelings of despair she fought on because she loved to draw. "oh my, it's 2:am... I've got to get some sleep." She plops down onto her bed, removing her glasses and placing them on her night stand. Lifting the covers over herself, and grabs her favorite body pillow that she often slept with. Miyuki loved Magical Girl Poya Poya. It was an older magical girl show that she loved as a child, and secretly fell in love with. Hugging her pillow tightly she drifted off to slumber with a tiny smile. Miyuki jolted awake, followed by heavy breathing. Her back was cold and wet from sweat, as well as her sheets that were quite damp. She had woken from a nightmare that she had relived many times before. It was a large factor of her issues with self confidence and self esteem. She was once taken advantage of by a upper class-man in high school. The thoughts made her shiver in fear, thankfully she was saved by some nameless group of girls that caught the boy, in the girls bathroom before things could have become much worse. She became terrified of men, and often took measures not to interact with them. In that moment she was betrayed by someone who was her friend, they even shared laughs, He robbed her of her innocence, and it affected her greatly. That was five years ago. In that time, she had time to think and adapt, her parents sought out therapists. In the beginning it was rough, but eventually she was able to talk about it. She was not fixed but it did helped her move on. She still had nightmares about it. This was something that became a common occurance for Miyuki. Waking up in sweat was a more preferable occurrence, it didn't happen often but the worst case scenario she would have woken up in puddle of urine. It hadn't happened in a long time, but she took precautions nonetheless. She kept a plastic sheet over her mattress, to avoid soiling it. As well as regular bathroom use right before bed. Shivering she finally crawled out of bed and changed her clothes, putting on a pair of thick sweat pants and and a sweater she turned on her tv. Watching anime was an escape from her stress, She often left dvds in her dvd player for this purpose. After about an hour of watching anime, her stomach made and audible noise. "Ah, breakfast... "I'm gonna have to go out..." Feeling guilty of being lazy, she went ahead and took a shower, before putting on a sweater and skirt. Miyuki had fairly long black hair that went down to her back, though she often liked to keep it in a single large braid. After getting ready she grabbed her bag, and headed out. Usually she would keep some things likes eggs, bacon, and other foodstuffs, but she was so excited to get home and write some of her script yesterday, she forgot to go shopping. She locked her door, walking down the stairs to her apartment. "whoah... It's really cold out, I wish I had brought a coat." she says under her breath, rubbing her hands together. Soon her destination came into sight. It was a family restaurant that served a mixture of Japanese food, as well as more Western dishes. Walking through the door, a chime rings. She waits at the door patiently. It's not long before a older lanky man in his late 30s, comes to greet her. "Good morning Izumi-san, it's been what a year, since I've last seen you here!" Miyuki, had come to this restaurant many times before, she liked the atmosphere, the place wasn't always crowded, and she was a regular and the manger became used to her usual request. "y-yes sir, I've been busy with work and such..." Miyuki spoke a bit tense. "I'm glad to hear your working hard! So the table in the back corner?" She nodded. He grabbed a menu and some silverware, and led her to the table, she usually sat toward the wall so she could look out the window, and to minimize potential eye contact with others. "A waitress will be out soon to serve you." The manager, said after setting up the table. Miyuki thanked him as he returned to the front of the store. Looking into her bag she noticed she forgot something "n-no way." She had forgotten her phone on her computer desk. she sighed and pulled out a small sketch book and some pencils. Miyuki didn't like the attention of drawing in public, but today the restaurant was nearly empty so she seemed more open to the idea. about 5 minutes had passed before she was surprised when she heard a woman greet her quite loudly. Slightly in shock, the woman bent over placing a hand on Miyuki's shoulder. "Oh I'm sorry, didn't mean to scare you!" I-I'm okay! Miyuki awkwardly yelped. She was in disbelief of the pure femininity of this woman. She had long blond hair that went down to her waist, large blue eyes as well as make-up in all the right places. Not to mention her much more desirable figure. The lady took notice in Miyuki's dumbfounded stare. She giggled "My name is Katou-san and I'll be your waitress this morning." Miyuki finally coming to her senses. "Hi I-I'm Izumi-san n-nice to meet you!" She awkwardly replied. Katou-san Laughed again. "I don't need to know your name silly, but I appreciate your manners!" She sat embarrassed "s-sorry." "Aw your so sweet." Lifting up her clipboard, "What can I get for you?" Miyuki Replied, "Um, an orange juice, w-with pulp, a-and the hamburg steak breakfast." Writing this down Katou-san held a beaming smile,"oho, that's a cute choice!" "Alright, let me take this to the back hun, and I'll be back with your OJ!" As Katou-san left, Miyuki sat completely beat red embarrassed. Being doted on did not come naturally to her. She had felt absolutely dumb, for that greeting earlier. She thought about it hard, and something began to seem off. The waitress had a weird speech tone, she kept dropping english esque words, Miyuki wasn't all to sharp on her english but she understood popular words. Of course her blond hair, and blue eyes, also gave it away, She must not have been born in Japan, but maybe been here long enough to pick up the language? Soon the Blonde girl came back with her orange juice. "Here you go sweetie." Dropping a straw on the table, she returned to the back, with a little wave. Miyuki wondered if it would have been rude to ask about where she came from. She had never really talked to a foreigner before, but she heard some rumors about them. She began to doodle, as she sipped her orange juice. Her doodling turned to sketching, as she was interested in the strange waitress. upon a few quick sketches of the waitress, she began to feel a bit embarrassed so she quickly drew some other simple characters along side her to try to diminish the characters presence. No matter how you looked at it the drawing, it was definitely of Katou-san. Katou-san came back to check up on the small Japanese girl. "Need anything? Looks like your running low on OJ, want me to refill it for you?" Miyuki replied "Y-yes please!" She smiled reaching over the table to grab the glass. "Um... K-Katou-san... a-are you not from here?" Miyuki stuttered out. There was a bit of silence before Katou-san smiled and laughed. "You little detective.... nope, I'm not from here but I've been here for awhile, what gave it away? Was it my Japanese? Miyuki staring at the blonde beauty, with blue eyes. "N-no... just a hunch." She laughed again, "I'm kiddding! Seriously though hows my Japanese? it's not to obvious? I've thought it was okay since people around me never pointed it out." Miyuki trying to be tactful "It's.... not bad, but some of the words you say I don't really understand. Y-your accent doesn't help... b-but it's not like it's bad... but y-you do have a nice voice! Aw you think so? You're so kind! Thanks- OH I'm supposed to be getting your orange juice! I'll be right back!" The waitress returned quickly retreating to the kitchen, leaving Miyuki to her thoughts. "wow, she's really pretty, ah, I forgot to ask where she's from..." Katou-san returned, this time with a sizzling hot plate as well as another plate with her eggs and bacon all balanced on one arm, and in the other hand Miyuki's orange juice. "I'm back Izumi-san! Hearing her own name was a bit embarrassing. Setting the drink down, freeing up her arm, she skillfully maneuvered the plates off of it and on to the table. "Can I get you anything else?" Miyuki Replied "N-no, thank you." Katou-san smiled once again before leaving out of her sight. She doubled back before leaving "Oh yeah if it's not to weird, could I see what you were drawing?" Katou-san grinned. Miyuki nearly felt obligated as if she was being hypnotized by her beauty, before remembering what she had drawn, but it was too late, as she had already handed the waitress her book. Katou-san looked as she made her amazement, quite audible. She even took a seat across from Miyuki, who looked embarrassed as well as surprised. "Oh I hate this booth it's always to tight on this side, as she squeezed in, her large bosom nearly coming to rest on the table. "Oh is this one supposed to be me!?" She pointed showing the beat red Izumi. "Uh-uh... N-NO it's just a coincidence!" Miyuki panicked! Katou-san wasn't buying it as she grinned quite smugly. I don't know Izumi-san I think you really got my uniform nailed down pretty well! She spoke teasingly. Miyuki lost for words, looked as if she could cry at any moment. Katou-san laughed. "Aw it's okay! I love it, you draw really well! These other characters look really cute too!" Miyuki tried to hide her embarrassment "th-thank you..." Just as she thought the teasing was over, Katou-san made a comment with a seriously concerned expression. "Though I think my breasts are much bigger than what you've got drawn here Izumi-san!" Miyuki again lost for words not knowing how to respond, she just hid her embarrassment, I-I th-though it would have b-been rude... she quietly said. "I'm kidding! Please it's okay don't worry the place is empty, I'm just a big teaser! Oh I'm so sorry I should be letting you eat! Let me get out of here! Miyuki quickly responded. "Y-you don't have to go!" blushing. Katou-san was surprised, but she took her offer. "O-oh well I guess I'll stay then" She smiled with a light blush. Miyuki awkwardly began to cut into her food. "u-um is it okay if I ask where you're from Katou-san?"Katou-san breaking away from admiring her sketch. Finally responds. "I was born in the US." Miyuki swallowing. "Oh really! That's so cool, I'd like to visit there someday... "Yes it's a very nice country despite what people say." Katou-san seemed a bit pained. "If you dont mind me asking, why did you come to Japan?" Miyuki inquired. Katou-san seemed conflicted and a bit reserved. "I-I don't mind you asking, but maybe another time, it's a complicated topic." "I'm sorry I didn't mean to pry..." Miyuki apologized. She seemed guilty about changing the mood, Katou-san seemed like a cheerful person and didn't like to hover on moody topics. There was a bit of an awkward silence before Miyuki deep in her thoughts, spoke a very out of character line. " K-katou-san I-if you ever need someone to talk to... Or.." Katou-san cut her off. "I don't really need anyone to talk too... But I could use a friend, I don't have too many of those. So maybe some time we could talk over coffee or something?" She seemed a bit happy that Miyuki had offered. Miyuki perked up, "y-yeah that sounds nice!" Just then the door chimed as a larger group of people came in." Katou-san got out of the tiny booth, peeved. "ah geez, looks like I can't talk anymore. Let me go grab your check before it gets real busy. Katou-san ran off to the back once again. about 10 minutes later. Katou-san had come back with the check, "Well it looks like it's about to get busy here...". handing Miyuki the check. "If you go up to the front He'll check you out." Miyuki nodded. There was a bit of hesitation, in Katou-san's voice, "Hey well I'm not going to be able to stick around, but I still wanna have that coffee!... so let me give you my number!" Strangely enough she pulls out an older flip phone. Miyuki got excited before she realized she had forgotten her phone. "Uh... I'm sorry but I left my phone at home..." Katou-san put her phone away and reached into her pocket, and pulled out a sharpie pen. "Hope you don't mind she smiled, leaning over the table, her larger but soft hands held onto Miyuki's as the pen tickled her palm. Katou-san was close, as Miyuki couldn't help but notice again, how pretty she really was. "There! Okay well I really gotta go, but you better call me, okay! Miyuki awkwardly replied "y-yes ma'am!" Katou-san giggled as she went over to take the other customers orders. Miyuki, for the first time in a long time, made a friend. Chapter 2 Miyuki had paid and left the restaurant as she began walking back to her apartment. She was in great mood, it wasn't everyday that she had a long conversation like that. She wanted to call Katou-san right away, of course she was still working. Now that she thought about it, she never told Miyuki, what would be a good time to call. Miyuki soon arrived at her apartment, taking off her shoes, placing them at the door. Miyuki-san happily sat on her computer chair where she left her phone, and immediately, entered in Katou-san's number into her contacts list. Swirling in her chair, her excitement grew. She soon took notice of her own eagerness, "Okay I've gotta distract myself... I've got work to do so I should get started." She woke her computer, to resume her work. She began to re-read and do some slight editing to her script before grabbing her sketch book and started drawing some rough sketches of the scenes, looking up every once in while to read. She put some music on, and soon found her self completely engaged in her activity. It had been about 5 hours of non-stop work. Her hand was a bit cramped, and her back felt stiff. A good sign she had been working to long. She let out a soft yawn, as she checked the time. 5:32pm "Whoah, yeah I should probably take a nap...b-but what if Katou-san calls first? I should just wait a bit longer..." She swiveled her chair towards her tv turning it on, continuing where she left off on her anime she was watching earlier. Soon the tired girl gave in to slumber right there in her computer chair... She woke slowly wiping sleep from her eyes. The tv repeated the main menu music, the window was dark. Coming to her senses she checked her phone it was 11pm. Miyuki Jumped up "N-No! I fell asleep!" She quickly checked her phone for any messages, seeing none she became very conflicted about what she should do. Was Katou-san already asleep? Did she work later? Miyuki grew desperate so she painfully pressed the call button and awaited for Katou-san to answer. The phone ringed for a bit each time was more disheartening. Hello? A voice on the other end spoke out. K-Katou-san?! I-it's me, Izumi! She gripped the phone tensely. "Oh, Izumi-san, you know... I was getting worried that you didn't want to see me..." Miyuki-san yelped, "T-That's not true! I-I just didn't know when was a good time to call, a-and then, I wasn't sure if you worked late, and then I tried just waiting but then I fell asleep. a-and-" Katou-san interrupted her. "I-I'm sorry... I was just teasing! Please calm down, I kind of figured that was the issue, I'm kind of an airhead sometimes. I should really pull back on the jokes." Miyuki once again fell for another one of her traps. "O-oh! y-you really had me worried Katou-san!" She shook her fist at nothing in particular. Katou-san apologized again, "Sorry, don't be mad please! Well it's kind of late I think all the coffee shops around here are closed..." Miyuki felt disappointed in herself but her determination was still high. "Katou-san! H-How about a b-beer! The bars are still open!" There was some giggling over the phone before Katou-san in between laughter replied. "Oh really! I didn't take you for someone who drank, or even someone who was old enough to!" Miyuki slightly embarrassed reassured her. "N-No I-can drink! I-I can even hold my liquor!" I'm serious! T-there's even a bar not too farm from my apartment!" There was some silence, before Katou-san replied. "I guess I have to take your offer! How about we meet at the restaurant in around 10 minutes?" Miyuki-san excitedly agreed before hanging up. She jumped all round excited as she quickly got her things ready and ran out the door, only returning a few seconds later because she forgot to lock it. Miyuki hadn't felt so happy in a long time, she was going out at night to meet a friend she had met the same day. She quickly made it to the restaurant, only 5 minutes early. She waited and waited with a grin on her face, looking about and searching for any sight of the blond. The more she waited the more she realized how few people were out, It was actually a bit spooky. Seemingly out of nowhere, She was frightened by a "boo" Jumping away she nearly had a heart attack, if she hadn't realized that it was Katou-san who had snuck behind her. K-Katou-san! Miyuki made a voice that was angry but not in the slightest intimidating. The blond was quick to apologize I'm sorry! You just looked adorable looking all over the place like that!" Miyuki blushed before she took notice of Katou-san outfit, it was much more stylish than her own clothes. She wore her hair in the same natural way, but she wore a cool looking black jacket with a blouse that exposed just enough cleavage to cause anyone to blush,and she wore a pair of jeans that hugged her legs nicely. "You done gawking?" I'm ready to hit the bars girl!" Miyuki playfully getting her attention. Miyuki came to her senses "R-right! sorry t-this way!" She led the away to the promised bar. It had been quite a couple of hours, it had started awkwardly enough as they broke each other in and soon they were talking comfortably. Comfortably left, and then came more intimately. Miyuki had lied about her ability to keep her liquor and it was obvious to Katou who was much better at doing so. Izumi had taken pleasure in drinking way to much, and by her 5th beer, was incoherently explaining to Katou-san how cool magical girls are and how she's wanted to be one all her life. Making all kinds of silly gestures and signs that the blonde could only laugh at. Miyuki had nearly ordered another before Katou stepped in. "I think you've had enough Izumi-san." She grabbed her hand before she rose it trying to get the bartenders attention. In her drunken state she had no fear of anyone even men. Though it was mostly due to Katou-san who ordered the first 2 drinks. Miyuki paused drunkenly before realizing what Katou-san meant. "O-Oh! I see, I am drunk..." It had been about 2 hours, and it was getting late, Katou felt a bit bad for the poor girl she must have been trying to impress her but she wasn't doing so well because she couldn't walk straight. Miyuki instead that she was okay and could handle the walk back to her apartment, but the mature blond knew better she put her arm around miyuki and helped her staggering out of the bar and down the dimly lit street. The normal 5 minute walk took roughly 20 minutes due to Miyuki drunken directions but eventually Katou and the young girl made it to her apartment, or at least she hoped. Miyuki had been rambling nonsense the entire time, but upon reaching the door on the 3rd floor Miyuki finally spoke something that she understood. "Um Katou-san I don't feel very good." Just then the blond, realizing what she meant, and had no time to react. The young girl stared off into space before vomit spewed from her mouth and nose. It wasn't long before she was sobbing. There was vomit on her front door as well some that had dripped on to her sweater and shoes. Katou-San quickly fished for her keys in the girls purse. Upon getting the door open she set Miyuki up against the wall. "Don't leave me Kato-san... I'm sorry." Katou reassured her. "Hey it's okay I'm gonna be right back you stay here and just have a seat." Katou had been to many parties before and knew how to deal with these things. She searched her apartment before finding her bathroom, grabbing a towel she ran back out side wiping off Miyuki's drooling mouth. She gently took Miyuki's glasses off placing them in her pocket. She then took care taking off her stained shoes. Upon taking Miyuki's sweater off Izumi-San suddendly had a burst of energy, she seemed feerful "w-what are you doing Katou-san! She weakly held on to herself making it difficult to remove her sweater. "Izumi-San sweetie your sweater is covered in vomit, I need to take it off-" "d-dont! Stop!" Her protests were void of energy. Eventually Katou-san was able to get her sweater off leaving her in a t-shirt, skirt, and black stockings. She picked up the incoherent girl, to her bed sitting her up on the edge of the bedside. "Izumi-san I think,it's best that you take a shower to try and sober you up." The young girl was nearly passed out and her eyes were red, from crying. She was most definitely tired. After some though Katou thought it was best to let her sleep. She didn't want to leave her alone in case she ended up suffocating on her own vomit. So she did the next best thing and slept next to the poor girl and kept her head on her side of the bed with a trash can. She opted for the gjrl's computer chair because for some reason her bed was a bit damp, she also noticed the strange plastic feeling under her sheets. She could only put two together which only made her feel more sorry for the girl. She had at least moved her to the dryer side of her bed. She couldn't help but rub her tired head. She looked like a little doll without her glasses on. She did have to admit she did look quite adorable with them on as well. But she kept her thoughts hidden away. She noticed looked at the clock on the night stand it was 3am. It seemed like it had been much longer. She too found herself nodding off, before she new it she was already asleep. Light was beaming into her Katou's eyes she realized it was morning, but didn't know the time. Looking over at the clock again it read 8 am, She nearly had a heart attack but she realized it was Sunday, a day she had off. Relieved she remembered that she spent the night in Izumi's apartment watching over the poor girl. She was actually a lot more worried that she had shifted her position in her sleep on to her side, but was relieved to see she was breathing. She had somehow able to find her body pillow with some anime character on it. She found equally cute as Izumi was hugging in her sleep. Katou-san couldn't help but to take picture with her phone until she realized it was dead. "figures..." She said with a smile before going back to watching the cute girl again. She had almost reached over to pet her head, until she suddenly noticed Izumi's light brown skirt, grew darker before visibly flowing liquid could be seen and heard. Katou gasped out loud before attempting to wake the girl up. Multiple shoves were required as the young girl held tightly to her pillow urine began to soil that too, as she had it tucked in-between her legs. "Izumi-san please wake up!" she said gently trying not to startle her awake. She suddenly woke up and she just stared off into the distance before noticing a blond girl looking over her. "K-katou...san?" she shifted and immediately felt the wetness on her legs and skirt as well as the currently trickling pee. Miyuki tried to jump up and quickly dart for the bathroom but she was wrapped up in her sheets and the large body pillow, she tried and tried, fighting to make it to the bathroom but she couldn't even get a foot on the floor. Eventually her bladder gave up and she sat there on her bed on her hands and knees wetting herself. She hung her head in shame but was equally to scared to look anywhere else. Thankfully her lower portion was covered in sheets, but even Katou knew what she was doing. Her breathing became heavy and staggered as her shoulders jerked. The blond walked over to the girl, she got down in front of the girl, who had made it just to the edge of the bed. She saw the face of a mortified girl, her eyes were open, casted down. brimming with tears refusing to look at anything else. she bit her lip but nothing could stop the pitiful sound of choked sobs. Katou grabbed and pulled the girl into a tight hug, not caring about the soaked sheets that surround the girl. Miyuki made some attempt at an apology but, Katou-san just held her tight without any words. Before long Miyuki gave up and let her self cry, she cried for a long time. The only thing breaking through her sobs, were Miyuki's heartfelt sorry's. it had been about 30-40 minutes before Katou-san spoke. "Izumi-san, It's okay... I don't think of you any less." She began to stroke the girl's hair. "You had a rough night you know? It wasn't your fault." Soon Miyuki had brought her tears down to sniffling. Katou noticed this and began to help the poor girl, trying her best to be tactful. "Hey how about we get you up and into the shower would you like that?" There was a pause before she could feel Izumi nodding. She could feel the girl struggling with the sheets, before Katou, simply princess carried her to the bathroom which almost started Izumi tears back up. "It's okay, just calm down. Miyuki hadn't felt so miserable, so humiliated, and helpless in a very long time. She couldn't help but cry, at the same time, she had never felt such kindness, and love from someone other than her own mother before. She tried her best to stifle her tears, and try to remain somewhat dignified. Soon she was placed down onto her feet. The floor was cold, and her soaking wet stockings didn't help. Katou-san gently untangled the sheets around the shivering girl, soon leaving her in her skirt which was almost completely wet down the middle and around her bottom, her stockings were fully soaked. She was so embarrassed, trying to cover herself which was nearly impossible. The tall blond rolled up the sheets into a ball, before addressing the younger girl. "Izumi-san go ahead and take your clothes off and leave them at the door, you go ahead and take a shower, and I'll wash these for you." Miyuki protested insisting that she shouldn't have to do so, but was ultimately silenced by Katou. "It's okay hun, let me help you." Katou-san took the sheets to the washing machine, and waited outside the bathroom door until a small hand held the soaking wet clothes just outside the bathroom door. The blond grabbed her clothes being mindful not to peak. She took her clothes to the washing machine, and started a load. Soon it was just her, the sound of the washing machine, and the sound of the young girl showering. It had been in the back of her mind since this morning but she felt horrible for feeling the way she did. Katou had a secret, she enjoyed watching girls wet themselves, bed wettings, toilet accidents... She drew immense pleasure from it, but most of all, she enjoyed when it wasn't on purpose... The blond had grown with this strange fetish for a long time, she used to hate herself for having it, and right now she really did hate herself for even thinking about that right now. This wasn't the first time she had witnessed it... but it was surely the most pitiful of them all. All she knew is that she wanted to protect this girl. Deep in her heart she felt that something was hurting Izumi-san. Chapter 3 Miyuki sat silently in the shower, letting the warm water pound her back and head, she had tucked herself into a ball and refused to move for quite awhile. She was replaying the incident over and over. She felt miserable, she felt humiliated, and she felt dumb. She wasn't able to make the call to Katou earlier, so they could have coffee. She couldn't hold her liquor, and ended up vomiting right in front of her. She had to be taken care of by Someone she hadn't even known for whole a 24 hours, forcing her to stay the night in her apartment. To complete the deal she had wet the bed, as well as wetting herself right in front of her. She quietly began to sob again, she tried her best but she just couldn't help feel how helpless and pathetic she was. An unknown amount of time had gone by as she sat in the shower, she had stopped crying and realized she should finish up in the shower and properly apologize to Katou for everything. Turning off the water, she stepped out of the shower, and grabbing a towel, she began to dry herself off. She held on to the door handle tying to compose herself. She was still shaking but she had to do what was right. She called out for Katou but there was no response, She did so again but heard nothing. She opened the door and saw no-one there. She grew worried but she also noticed her bed was not only dry but it was made, her clothes were folded on the bed. It felt weird having the presence of someone else in her, typically empty apartment. She walked over to the bed and noticed some breathing, and sure enough Katou-san had fallen asleep on the floor. She felt embarrassed because she was clutching in one hand her body pillow, and in the other hand her Magical Girl Poya Poya pillow case. She must have been trying to put it back on and fell asleep right on the spot. She smiled a bit, and it was the first smile she had made that morning. Seeing that she was a sleep she went a head and got dressed slipping on a pair of panties, sweat pants, and a long sleeve shirt. She hadn't had anyone sleep over at her apartment or house before, and wasn't really sure what to do, but she figured it was best to let her sleep. She grabbed a blanket from her closet and draped it over the sleeping blond. She soon found herself standing above the girl, staring at her face. It was a beautiful face that made it hard for the girl to look away. She was able to bring herself to her senses and found away to keep herself busy. She went over to the small kitchen area and decided to put a pot of coffee on. She tried her best not to make any noise. She thought about using her computer but the way Katou-san was sleeping made it difficult to actually sit at it, so she decided to work traditionally on her bed. She grabbed her headphones so she could listen to music, but her phone was nearly dead, so she went ahead and put it on the charger. She drew in her sketchbook in relative silence for about and 2 hours had passed and soon Miyuki had fallen asleep as well. Miyuki had been woken for the second time this morning by a blonde girl. She jolted up in surprise, realizing that once again she was going to have to face Katou-san. The blond was relieved, "Sorry that I woke you... I-uh... threw away your plastic sheet... I wanted to make sure you didn't... have another accident." She tried choosing her words more carefully as not hurt the small girl. Miyuki replied, "t-thank you... for doing that..." She went on her hands and knees on the bed, bowing her head, she was groveling in forgiveness. She spoke shaking. "I'm sorry for everything Katou-san. I don't know how to repay you. I'm just so sorry." Katou-san was lost for words. She wasn't Japanese but she knew that groveling was a serious deal. "I accept your apology but it's just as much my fault, I should have known you were having a lot to drink last night. I'm the elder her and I had a responsibility to take care of you. So please for the sake of being my friend will you please not grovel like that?" saying this, the blonde, gently sat on the bed with her. The groveling girl finally sat normally, her face was still hot with shame. She grabbed the small girls hands "Izumi-san... is there anything you want to talk to me about?" Miyuki felt Katou's hands, they were soft and gentle but at the same time she felt that if she ran away those same hands would not allow it. hearing this she thought hard. "Is there something that's been troubling you?" Miyuki was deep in thought unsure if Katou was talking about what she thought she was talking about. She wasn't the most open about things especially her past. "I turned down your offer yesterday... about needing someone to talk to, because I don't feel comfortable with my past. I don't like talking about it and I don't want to think about it." Miyuki listened intently. "Now how about we make a deal, If I tell you about why I left the US, how about you tell me about yourself, and your past." Miyuki thought about it, she twiddled her fingers, and thought really hard, the only ones that new about her past were her parents and her therapist. All of which she hadn't really seen in good while. She did feel safe with Katou-san. She had taken care of her the whole night and continued to do so in the morning. She really must have cared right? She nodded her head hesitantly in response. Katou smiled "Then it's a deal! but before we get started, I smell coffee, and I think this would be a nice talk over some coffee, don't you think?" Miyuki remembered she had put the coffee on but forgot about it when she fell asleep. "Y-yes I think so too, the mood change helped her feel a bit more relaxed. She ran over to the kitchen before turning back. "u-um the coffee... I-I might have to microwave it...." Katou-san replied "That's fine, sorry for the trouble!" It had been an hour of constant talking, most of which had been done by the blonde. Katou-san was born in the US, her real name however was Juliette Alice, she enjoyed her life there. She was a fairly popular girl in high school, a true queen bee. Though she was kind and understanding and was usually the one to stick up for other students the ones that were bullied and such. Juliette was not a very bright girl, nor did she posses any talent in the arts, or music. She did however enjoy sports, she was a good athlete which helped her through high school with numerous scholarships. She did however hold a secret, she was attracted to both women and men, but she never enjoyed the company of men the same way she did when she was hanging around girls. She had always kept this to herself, and for the most part never acted on the urges. It wasn't until the 11th grade that she had befriended a girl that she ran with often during track practice. She had known her for years, and at one point she just felt determined that maybe she was able to understand her feelings. If not, she was still a good friend and would understand her. She thought she had nothing to loose. Juliette decided to come out to her parents first, they were the supportive figures in her life of course. They had disregarded anything she had said, and strictly forbid her from talking anymore about it. She had been in complete shock, she couldn't believe it. About a month later, she brought the topic back up this time she was met with strong retaliation. This went on for months. She felt shame for her sexuality she felt disgusted. If her own parents wouldn't understand, how could anyone else? She continued through her school life, she was no queen bee anymore she was depressed, she became much more stoic, and spaced out. She favored watching videos on the internet, and browsing her computer in the late night. She found herself on forums about romance, and fan fiction, and soon she found her way towards watching anime, she only knew what she heard some of the geekier students talk about when they walked past. She became instantly hooked, she love it, nothing was forbidden, and nothing was wrong, it was all acceptable. Yuri, they called it, She became infatuated with the whole community, the fan works the art, the stories. She was happy, and she felt good about herself, that others were out there that were okay with. it hadn't been a year until her parents had taken notice in her grades. Upon taking her computer away they browsed her history and that was it. They confronted her again, they gave her the option of continuing school or going to bible school. Of course any sane person would have stayed away from the later. So she did, she finished high school, and slowly her rebellious side began to show, and on the day she received her diploma she left home at the age of 18. She left her home and she left her town. She planned ahead selling everything she owned she even stole back the laptop and sold it too. Her plan was to move to Japan. It was a dumb single minded plan but the though of it kept her going. With what she had in cash she was able to open her own bank account, but it wasn't enough, she only had about 1000$. She scrounged around taking small jobs, and by the time she was 22 she amassed about 10,000$ She flew, traveling as light as a feather picking the cheapest location that she could find. A one way trip. She wasn't coming back. She had issues with the language, as well as finding a landlord that would give her a room. She struggled for a long time in between jobs that she couldn't keep because of her living situation. 3 years had passed, she was a complete homeless mess. One night she walked into that same restaurant down the street, she had enough for one meal and a beer. Later that morning the manager's wife. found the same girl asleep outside their restaurant. He took her in and let her use they're shower upstairs. She begged him for a job only in payment for food. The girl worked well, really well and by the end of the day she had earned herself a job, a meal and a home. Her story had moved Miyuki to tears. "Katou-sa-..Arisu-san, oh my goodness, I didn't know you went through so much!" Miyuki held the blonde girls hand as she sniffled. "I-it's okay Izumi-san r-really come on now." Miyuki spoke, again. "I'm sorry, have I've been using the wrong name?" Katou reassured her, "No, please, just use whatever's more comfortable for you okay?" Miyuki nodded. Wow I feel kinda better getting that off my chest! So Izumi-san... I want to know your story, what's been bothering you?" Miyuki knew it was coming but it now was her turn. She played with her fingers before trailing off into speech. "There... was this boy.... that I was friends with..." She spoke slowly as she told the older girl who stared intently with her blue eyes. She told her about how they used to walk to and from school together. How the boy was like a brother to her. She kept avoiding parts of the story, but she couldn't do it with Miyuki's eyes staring at her. "H-he t-t-took... me into the b-bathr" her voice became shaky, "h-he took my m-my und." Katou-san quickly grabbed the girl into a hug as she did many times already. "Hey you don't have to say anymore!" she repeated over and over again. She rocked her back in forth "It wasn't your fault, nothing has been your fault, you hear me?" She continued, soothing the girl. Miyuki could only cry "w-why did he do that?" through her hiccuping voice. Katou continued to hug her tightly as the evening sun lit the tears on the young girls face. Katou once again was holding the girl as she calmed down. She felt as if the past 18 hours consisted of either sleeping, hugging or both. "I-i'm okay now Katou-san" She lightened her hug on the girl. Her eyes red from crying, Katou had forgotten that she still had Izumi's glasses in her pocket. "Oh I almost forgot to give these back." She took the glasses, opening them up and placing them on the girls face. She wiped a stray hair from her face, Katou couldn't help but be honest."Your so pretty Izumi-san, I don't want to see such a pretty face covered with such sad tears." Miyuki felt embarrassed hearing that from her, but secretly she was happy. Miyuki hugged Katou catching the blonde of guard. "T-thank you... for everything today." Katou felt her heart pound warmly. "Aw sweetie, I want to be here for you. I'm your friend arn't I?" about an hour later Katou had Miyuki wrapped in her arms, as they spent the afternoon watching anime together. Katou ordered a pizza, and the two had a great time. Miyuki had not laughed that much in a long time, for a brief instance it felt like a little piece of childhood, had been restored. Soon it was 10 pm. Katou knew she had to go back to the restaurant, and get a good night sleep for work in the morning. Miyuki also had work tomorrow. "Well Izumi-san it looks like our little party is coming to an end." Miyuki wasn't very happy about it but she understood. They hugged each other goodnight as Miyuki worriedly watched her turn the corner down the stairs. "U-um Katou-san w-when will I see you again?" The blond turned and smiled. "The weekend for sure, but the restaurants open till 8pm during the week!" She waved goodbye as she disappeared down the stairs. For the next couple of weeks the two spent many weekends together if not every. They were all each-other really had. Miyuki felt confidence when she was around Katou, she was kind and she was understanding. Katou liked Miyuki she couldn't lie to herself but the relationship she had with Miyuki was nearly enough, she loved seeing that girl smile and laugh. 3 months had passed, it seemed like a whole year to the two girls. One Saturday afternoon the two were together in Miyuki's apartment. Katou had grown used to calling Miyuki by her first name. She thought it was cuter and more fitting than Izumi. Miyuki still called Katou the same name out of respect, she was still her senpai of course. The blond had been watching some of Miyuki's anime, while she was working on a drawing. "Hey, Miyuki..." Katou spoke suspiciously. "yes Katou-san?" The blonde felt bad, she was about to ask something quite serious. "Remember that day after we first met... " Miyuki felt a bit concerned, she turned her computer chair to face her properly but Katou was still face away watching the TV. "O-of course I remember..." "You know how I said that..... I found girls attractive...?" "yes I remember..." Miyuki responded intrigued.. There was a pause before Katou spoke again. "W-well that's it, I-I love you Miyuki." She turned around to face Miyuki, her expression slightly concerned. "Ever since that day I've wanted to protect you, care for you and to love you. I... I was just hoping that you felt the same." Miyuki was surprised because she had never seen Katou blush so hard before, Nevertheless she was happy to hear her words. "I've never really been confessed to nor have I done so... S-so I don't really know how I feel about love with another girl... but I think I might have been feeling the same way, s-so please be patient with me, b-but I accept your confession, because I trust you Katou-san." Katou-san had never felt happier. "Oh Miyuki she ran over to the small girl, eliciting a giggle out of her as she was smothered by the girls hug. They soon found themselves on Miyuki's bed embracing each other. "Hey Miyuki is it okay if sleep over tonight?" Miyuki smiled. "Of course I-I'd love that!". The two were up late in the night drinking coffee and making up silly manga stories, Katou even drew some up, though she wasn't an artist in the slightest, Miyuki tried her hardest not to laugh at the funny faces she drew. Soon it was 1 am and the two seemed like it was time to go to bed. Miyuki had made a bed for the tall girl on the floor next to hers. They hugged each other goodnight, and Katou gave Miyuki a kiss on the forehand leaving Miyuki in a blushed state. "Good night Miyuki, I love you." Miyuki blushed hearing the words again. "I-i love you to Katou-san!" Katou-san was the first to fall asleep. Leaving Miyuki in a blushed mess, she hugged her pillow tightly, she thought to herself. "Katou-san loves me!"

After a long stretch of work, I'm finally happy to say that I will be doing a series of shorts for my interactive: The Guild Apprentice. The first short is from the most recent chapter and involves The Bard, Addilyn Tsereteli during her most desperate moments of the story. This is a condensed version of that chapter which is done from Addilyn's point of view. Patented Clom Warning: This story focuses heavily on bowel desperation and farting. This is probably the crudest story I've written, featuring lengthy fart desperation, bowel desperation and stuff I know that doesn't interest a lot of people. That is not the case for all of these shorts, but for this one you've been warned. Enjoy! __________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ A horde of untamed goblins been troubling the local farmers and as such the call for a Fighter was answered. Ayla had arrived in the hamlet a day before, assisted the local guards with clearing out the caverns they infested and rode off back toward Guilden, stopping only to make camp the night before. Ayla always relished her time near the borders of her homeland. Tall, majestic trees, long flowing rivers of crystal clear water that sparkled in the sun, the majestic songs of birds and wildlife that swept through the forests; The true beauty of the country of Balkana started long before the border. While Addilyn Tsereteli, bard of Balkana, loved her home in Eserith, she always knew her true home was the country of nature and song. The Bard awoke to a beautiful summer morning; the sunlight warming the forest and the fragrant aroma of flowers in the air. As the sun was rising over the trees, Ayla packed up her supplies, prepared herself a treat of cold, sweetberry tea, and relieved herself in the grass before saddling up and making the rest of her journey home. On her day-long journey, Ayla made only one stop - to take a drink from the river and relieve herself against a tree before carrying on toward Fort Victoria. The sun was just setting as she rode along the lakeside and through the gates into the bustling town of Guilden. "Guildhand!" The guards at the gate called out as they noticed her horse brandishing the banner of Fort Victoria. The men stood aside and allowed Ayla to pass, lowering their heads in respect. The Bard left her horse at the stable in the west of town and proceeded through the narrow streets. She passed a group of cheerful market goers, reminding her that she would have to visit the summer fair before it left for the next town. Perhaps celebrating her victory with a bowl of noodles in plum sauce or a nice bottle of rice wine. She passed a group of men investigating a leak in an alleyway, muttering among themselves and soon she ascending the stairs toward Fort Victoria. Almost home. Ringing in the air, the familiar clings and clangs of swords welcomed The Bard. Apprentices practicing in the training yards, yells and grunts as they sparred. Ayla was finally home. She loved returning to these sounds, pretending they were a fanfare announcing her arrival within the fort. It made her feel like a mighty warrior returning to the castle after a grand quest. She strutted through the large iron doors and took in the long-awaited sight of the grand hall. Home. Home at last. Finally home after a long journey, Ayla wanted nothing more than to unpack her bag, perhaps play her violin a little, and then collapse on her bed. But before doing any of that, she had to make one important stop. I've been waiting all day to finally use a privy. She had been sitting on a loaf the whole time she'd been at the border, and the celebratory banquet she had feasted on the night before had finally hit the pits of her stomach. It was a great feast, a whole table of the finest spiced meats, bread and cream cakes the town could put together to honour their saviour. Ayla downed her fill along with a fine helping of wine and as a result she had spent the whole night gassy, farting beneath her sheets until the sun rose. Not once had the need to void her bowels burdened her until now. But even when she was home Ayla could not escape the call of duty. On her way to the lavatory she was caught up by Lucina. The white-haired warrior and Guildmaster of the fort, although she did not consider herself of the title. "Addilyn, I thought I saw you walking through the yard. I'm glad to see you're back safely." She said with warm greeting. "It's nice to see you too, Lucina." The greetings were dull, and felt far more formal than Ayla enjoyed. She struggled to see Lucina as a friend after taking the rank of Guildmaster. "I was hoping there was a favour I could ask of you. I know you've just come back but it's urgent." "Of course, I was hoping I could... never mind. What do you need?" Ayla asked. Lucina puffed out her cheeks and exhaled wearily. "Could you summon Yuka to the study. Myself and Damari wish to have a word with her regarding a recent contract." Of course you do. Ayla held her sigh. "Sure I can. I, um, do you mind if I..." She pointed toward the dining hall. "I'm sorry, I need her in the study now." Without a goodbye, Lucina headed back to her study, leaving Ayla without another word. With Lucina gone, Ayla finally let out her sigh. It was never good when the Guildmaster called a summon and in Yuka's case it was worse. Guildmaster Gregori had always been lenient with Yuka, but since his death that leniency was lost. Yuka suffered the full extent of the Guildmaster's wrath when her contracts went awry and more times than not it only put stress on hers and Lucina's friendship. Ayla had noticed the growing tensions, but she dared not question it. She knew it was naive to believe their bond was too strong for such a divide between them, but she still held onto that belief. On such a beautiful day, there was only one place Yuka could be. Down at the mouldy old dock near the Undercroft. That was where she enjoyed to drink, away from all the loud noises of the Fort. Ayla needed to use the lavatory, but she put it on hold to go seek out her best friend. She'd held all through the day, she could wait a few more minutes. She walked away from the dining hall and made her way toward the Undercroft. She passed the leftovers of several wine bottles scattering a windowsill in the bowels of the fort, and Ayla knew for certain now that Yuka was down at the dock. But she didn't find Yuka at the dock, though the scattered bottles of wine left behind certainly told a story. What she did find was something she hadn't expected. At the far end of the dock, Ayla caught the glimpse of a girl with long grassy hair, bent down in a most indecent position. The girl was squatting, her legs spread, revealing her small starfish between a pair of plump cheeks and the slightest glimpse of her womanly slit. Ayla could see it all, the girl was crouched over the waters edge, a stream of piss running from between her legs, piddling into the water beneath. The girl, completely unaware of Ayla's presence, went about her business with pleasure. The girl was in ecstasy, not letting a moment of her relief pass in silence; She hummed and ha'd as she pissed in the lake, her legs trembling as she squatted, her anus twitching as she strained the last drops from between her legs. Ayla couldn't believe it. She was frozen with disbelief. Such... crude conduct. She must be one of Yuka's friends. Finally, the girl finished up at the edge of the dock. Believing herself to be alone, the girl expelled a bout of wind. She sighed gleefully and finished her pee. After the deed was done, did Ayla decide to make herself known. She knew most of the company Yuka kept, they didn't care for being seen in such an indecent position and she knew it. But that was the first mistake Ayla made - believing this green-haired girl was anything like Yuka. She approached the girl squatting by the lake and gently put out a hand to tap her shoulder. Before she could, she saw a twitch of fear in the squatting girl. The Bard retracted her hand, took a step back and instead decided to address the girl. "E-Excuse m-me, a-are." That was her second mistake. The girl turned to face Ayla, her beautiful eastern eyes staring in terror unmatched by anything Ayla had seen. Her lips trembled, quivering. The girl didn't speak, instead unleashing a terrified shriek that pierced the skies. Ayla felt her ears almost shatter, her heart was racing with trepidation. All Ayla could do to calm the screaming girl was scream back. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" She yelled, throwing her arm over her eyes into darkness. "I thought you were just pee... peering! Peering into the water! I didn't know... I'm sorry!" "HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE!?" The girl finally spoke, but her composure was next to none. "I JUST GOT HERE! I'M LOOKING FOR A FRIEND." Ayla gulped. If word of this got out, people would think I'm some lewd voyeur! "I'm sorry, please take your time." She turned her back on the girl and pointed towards the stairs. "I'll just wait over there." A flurry of thoughts flew through her head. She couldn't steady her racing heart, she couldn't steady her trembling legs, she was overwhelmed with fear. I heard her fart, I heard her peeing, I saw her... places. And she saw me! Ayla thought. Back a meager five minutes and already she had found herself wound up in the unspeakable. "Alright... I'm d-done. You could've at least waited... or not snuck on me like you did." The girl hissed. "I'm sorry." The girls strict tone made Ayla feel like a child being scolded by her mother. She looked down at her boots, too scared to look the girl in her eyes. "I should've waited. I didn't meant to scare you." I need to not look so scared, I need to look her in the eyes. Slowly, Ayla raised her head, staring into the girls eyes. "It's just... nobody comes down here except for a friend of mine." She rubbed the back of her neck, trying to hide the trembling. "I'm just looking for her. My name is A-" "Ayla!" From behind, Ayla heard the excited squeals of her best friend. "Ayla! Ayla! Ayla!" Before she could even turn around Yuka was already on her, squeezing her and lifting her off the ground. To her surprise, Yuka did not reek of wine. A rarity. "There's my favourite little Princess fucker! I've missed you! I've missed you! I've missed you!" Yuka's hug made The Bard feel warm inside, one of her favourite parts of returning was the first few moments when her best friend saw she was back. She would lift her off her feet and make her feel like she was the only girl in the world who mattered. "Hiya, Yuka! I've missed you too." Ayla spat out a lock of her fiery hair that had ended up in her mouth as Yuka span her around. "I've only been gone a few days." "Yeah, but that feels like a whole month to me without you here!" Ayla felt nearly crushed as Yuka squeezed tighter, never wanting to let The Bard go. As happy as Ayla was, the force only served to speed up matters brewing in her belly. She leant in to Yuka's ear and whispered. "Yuka... do you mind if we... I need to... you know." Yuka started giggling like a juvenile, but she remained silent to Ayla's plight. "Ah okay. Don't want to squeeze it out of you." She put The Bard back on the floor and gave her a wine-soaked kiss on the cheek, still keeping her wrapped in a warm embrace. "Ah, you're awake Shibo! And looking awfully red in the face." She waves to the green-haired girl. "I was gonna say something, but forget it. Did you meet Ayla? Did you introduce yourself." "We've already met." The girl, called Shibo didn't sound too happy about that fact. "Gah! It feels like we don’t talk as much. You never come down here anymore. I love Ledley, but she’s nothing compared to my favourite little bard!" "I'm just trying to keep you and Lucina happy." With those words, Ayla felt the warmth inside her dwindle. She walked away from Yuka, feeling her friends arms slump from her shoulders with little resistance. "That's why I'm here actually." I'm sorry, Yuka. If only I had come down to see you. "She wants to speak with you in the Guildmaster's study." Yuka slumped her shoulders as the joy she felt a moment ago drained away. Ayla could sense it, when she lost her smile, that was when she was not her jovial self. The perky thief looks as grim as death. "Is Damari there?" She asks with a sigh. Yuka did not enjoy dealing with Damari, nor did she enjoy dealing with Lucina. "Damari is there." "Of course he is..." Yuka sighed. Ever since Guildmaster Gregori's death, Damari had overseen everything in the fort with Lucina by his side. It had become well known that those who were summoned to the Guildmaster's study would answer to both him and Lucina. "Alright, best I get this shite out of the way." Before she left, Yuka turned to Shibo and began talking to her, asking her if she would be still be coming out tonight. As Yuka and Shibo spoke about their plans for the night, Ayla looked out over the lake, soaking in the view of the mountains. It's good to be home. She breathed in the fresh air and let out a content sigh. Before she knew it, Yuka was in her face, talking about how Shibo had caught an amazing fish. Ayla listened, but she never had much interest in fishing. She gave the usual questions to make herself look interested but her mind idled on the scenery. Yuka and Shibo returned to talking and Ayla returned to the world in her head. "Ah, right!" Ayla heard Yuka call before hearing a finger snap beside her ear. "Ayla do you want to do your big sis a favour? It would mean the world to me!" She was tired from her journey and she needed to make a "drop" at the privy, but when Yuka give her the look of an alley pup, Ayla couldn't say no. "Of course." Excited, Yuka pulled in Shibo, pressing her against her breasts. "Great! This is a new friend of mine and Ledley's! Her name's Shibo. She's one of the new apprentices! “She could use a hand being shown around the fort, you know, bathing rooms, bunkhouse… getting settled in. I was gonna do that myself, but I can't if I need to go talk to the bastard baroness." "A pleasure to meet you Shibo." Ayla bowed her head, introducing herself properly after the drama that had ensued. It was the least she could do. "You didn't think of showing her around when you met her?" She asked Yuka. "Fort Victoria can be pretty overwhelming for New Apprentices." "Hehe, don't I know. I needed to take a piss earlier and ended up in an empty room." Yuka chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “Would you believe me if I told you I was waiting for the best navigator of Fort Victoria to return home?” "I wouldn't" "What if I told you that I was showing her all that famous Guildhand comradery by inviting her down for drinks in the sun?" She rubbed the back of her neck nervously once more. For a thief, Yuka didn't make a good liar when Ayla was involved. Everything became a joke. "Yuka~" The Bard put her hands on her hips sternly and shook her head with disappointment. "How did you meet her? It's not often you talk to the apprentices... unless your teasing them." You seem to forget your warnings for going too far with your pranks. “Okay, settle in. I’m going to tell you all about it. From the beginning!” Ayla already knew what was coming as Yuka puffed out her chest and cleared her throat. “You see, our fine lady had consumed too much wine at her royal banquet, and as such became incapacitated! As time passed, she felt the pressing, really dire urge to piss.” Yuka enticed her into the story with a worrisome stare. “It was leg-crossingly, pant-wettingly bad! Our fair lady, unable to contain her royal dam, tried her best to hold herself. But it was near hopeless… Until a noble saviour swept in! That saviour’s name?” She pointed over to Shibo, welcoming the girl into the story with a mock fanfare. “Shibo! This noble Knight offered to take our royal lady to the royal lavatory so that she could take a royal leak!” Ayla felt herself being pulled into the story, captivated by the fantastic storyteller that was Yuka. “So our brave Knight carried our fair lady, who tried and tried to hold it, sacrificing her own decency so she could avoid flooding her royal chambers! Finally, we arrived! The Princess was overjoyed, throwing herself from her saviour’s grasp so could finally tinkle, and oh what a tinkle it was going to be! But alas, an evil wizard had cast a cruel spell on the castle! Swapping the lavatory and another more barren room. The Princess had stumbled upon an empty room, devoid of a place for her to go!” Ahem! Both Ayla and Yuka looked over to Shibo, who cleared her throat. "I, uh, don't recall that part." She said, unimpressed. Yuka brushed off Shibo's qualms, a gesture that made Ayla giggle. “The Knight didn’t know of the vile curse! But the Princess could sense it!” Ayla always knew her best friend had a flair for theatre, and it showed. She continued listening with bated breath. “It felt like it was over. She leaked a royal leak as all hope was as drained as she wished to be. But there was still hope for our leaky princess.” Yuka points a powerful toward the lake. “The land of eternal hope! A land where any desperate girl could squat, stand and tinkle! The Princess had to make it here. She pleaded with the knight, but at first he was reluctant.” Ahem! Shibo cleared her breath again, this time looking agitated with her arms crossed firmly. "I'm not a he. Also she's only asking ho-" “Silence, Knight! This is the Princess’s rendition! So, the Knight was reluctant, but even he came around and saw the pain the Princess was in. Only the land of eternal hope could relieve her. So they ventured onward, out into the blazing heat. The Princess rode atop the Knight, too desperate to even walk…” Ayla felt her smile grow as she was further engrossed in this thrilling tale. It reminded her of the stories The Crafter would tell her. “We made it, and just in the nick of time! The Princess could see it, an unending sea before her. Delighted, knowing relief was just a second away, she hopped off the Knight and rushed to the waters edge. She pulled aside her royal attire and pissed, and oh did she piss! The lake water rose three inches that day! Peasants who drank from the lake were cured of any ailment. Including poverty! And at long last the Princess was relieved. To thank her noble Knight, she insisted he stay for wine, unaware that not only did wine make him tremendously gassy, but sleepy too. Our fine Princess would nap atop his glorious thighs! And that’s how it all happened!” After a moment of silence where it seems like Yuka is waiting for a thunderous applause, she shrugs her shoulders and smiles. “I hope we got the moral of the story: If in doubt, the land of eternal hope is here for you!" Shibo muttered something under her breath, too quiet for anybody else to hear. She began clapping slowly, looking awkwardly at Yuka, who takes a victory bow. "I didn't think you were such a good storyteller, bar some embellishment. You should be a playwright." "Embellishment is the mother of all modern tales." The Bard added. That was the first rule The Crafter had taught her. "I learned from the best, I did." Ayla found herself being pulled in and once again tangled in one of Yuka's hugs. "Seeing my fiery-haired little princess fucker is all the inspiration I need." "You're still my favourite storyteller in the whole realm." It's like being back with my older sister. Ayla thought as she wrapped her arms around Yuka, embracing her best friend. "You'll have to tell me what I've missed. In a similar manner, of course." "It's a date! For now though, I should go speak with the baroness before she beats me with the stick up her arse.” Off Yuka ran, stopping only to turn back to Ayla “So you’ll show Shibo around?” "Sure. I'm happy to help." The Thief vanished in the blink of an eye, using the speed she had built a reputation on. Even now watching her dart off into the distance still amazed Ayla. But once Yuka was gone, the air had grown quiet... and awkward. The Bard stood, being watched by Shibo and both were unsure what to say. Ayla adjusted her dress, swept back her hair and gave her new friend a kind smile and an offering of her hand. "Allow me to introduce myself properly this time!" She followed up with a bow. "My name is Addilyn Tsereteli, Bard of Balkana, Admirable Archer of the Arcane and and Royal-certified Guildhand of Guilden. Though... most just call me Ayla." She finished her excited introduction humbly. Shibo glared at Ayla, looking overwhelmed by The Bard's introduction. Ayla was used to that look, partly stuck between wanting to punch her in the face and wanting to warmly shake her hand. Thankfully, the former had only happened once. Shibo smacked her lips. "Shibo Kenshiko, though most just call me Shibo." She introduced herself with an awkward chuckle. "I, uh, am sorry I startled you while you were... you know." And then, unsure if it was driven by guilt, or stupidity, Ayla made the most bizarre offer. "If it'll make you feel any better... I could tell you a story about me?" What am I saying!? She couldn't believe the words coming from her mouth. The girl, brushing her green-hair aside, glared, unamused by the offer. "And what good would that do?" "Well..." Why am I still talking? "It might make you feel better if you hear something worse. I don't want us to get off on the wrong foot. Also it assures you that I won’t go gossiping, right? You’d be surprised how quickly word gets around this place." It's fine. She'll say no. Why would she want to hear something so ridiculous? "On second thought, I'm curious now." Shibo answered with a smug grin growing on her lips. "It is only right to accept the offer of embarrassing secrets." Gah! Of course she's one of Yuka's friends! She's a pervert! Ayla had expected her to say no. She would've taken some comfort in at least knowing she offered, but that brief moment of confusion from Shibo had made The Bard adamant she'd turn it down. Ayla twiddled her thumbs, damning herself for what she'd done. "Hehe... I guess I did offer that, huh?" With a beating heart and cheeks as red as beets, Ayla started delving into her most embarrassing story; she remembered it like it was just yesterday - a tale about herself and her friends going out for drinks to celebrate her rank as a Guildhand. Ayla started the story slow, regret troubling her for getting herself in this situation. She spoke of getting drunk, filling herself to the brim on every ale the tavern could offer. The taste of bitter dripped on her tongue as she recalled it. Just as she got to the part about being carried home drunk, Ayla felt her tongue weigh on her. She seized up and couldn't say another word of her story. "You know... the rest if pretty silly. You don't want to hear it." She chuckled nervously, hoping Shibo would be happy with just that. It didn't sit with Shibo, who merely shrugged her shoulders. "Would you mind continuing? You've made me curious now." "C-Curious about an embarrassing story." It's Matilda all over again. This girl is perverted. "You sound like my old girlfriend. Or Yuka." Again, Shibo shrugged her shoulders, showing that she was unwilling to hear anything against it. “I have to admit, Yuka’s story has put me in the mood for something with some bardic flair! And who better to tell it than a bard?” “Yeah but… I could tell you about dragons or a great siege or something… Does it need to be about me… and… pissing?” “It was your suggestion.” Shibo chuckled. “You don’t need to be so ashamed about telling me. Especially after… you know.” She pointed behind her, to the scene of the crime, still fresh. “Look at how Yuka told you her story so boldly. She told it like a bard, not sparing a single detail, and with a clear voice.” For the first time, Shibo sounded encouraging, but right now all that did was make Ayla even more uncomfortable. This girl REALLY wants to hear this. She grabbed the hem of her dress, rubbing her hands against the soft fabric. It made her feel at peace. “I d-don’t think bards tell these kinds of stories, especially to a big audience.” She rubbed her ruby cheeks. Shibo strutted past her and plopped herself down on a chair left on the dock. “Well for now, it’s just me. I’m your audience.” She leant forward in the chair. “Don’t be embarrassed. Think of it like any other story. Fighting a dragon, fighting legions of undead, just think of it like that!” Ayla covered her mouth, hiding a chuckle. “You’re… really eager to hear this aren’t you?” She said softly. She's a pervert, she's a pervert, she's a pervert. “You offered. A good bard doesn’t tell a story and stop halfway.” Shibo sat, hands crossed. “Just go when you’re ready. Take your time.” Although her cheeks were still flushed with embarrassment, Ayla clenched her fist. She was a bard, a creator of stories, and she wouldn't falter from the task. “Okay.” She brushed a strand of fiery hair from her eyes and took a deep breath. This would be the best performance Shibo had ever heard. “So later that night I woke up in pitch blackness. With all the drinking, and merriment going on in town, I didn’t get a chance to “Spend a penny” before bed. So I woke up fit to burst. A whole night of wine trying to break me down like the walls of a grand castle! In a really sloppy state, I was left with no choice but to drag myself to the privies.” I need movement! To show her what it was really like! Ayla began mimicking the motions of that night like they were happening again.“Do you know what it’s like moving around in the dark when you’re really drunk, plus you really need to piss? It’s not pleasant. I felt like a zombie, full of wine and piss, dragging my feet through the dark, eerie corridors of Fort Victoria on my quest for relief.” This isn't so bad. “I finally, after a long hobble through the halls, got to the privies. But do you know what I found? That they were locked! But!” She raised a finger. “Only the girls. So I did what any girl would do in my situation…” Her tongue began to seize again as memories of what happened next flooded her mind. “I used the boys privies…” "Don't be shy about it." Shibo, who looked enthralled, clenched her fist, urging her to carry on. "Just remember how Yuka told hers and keep going!" "Right!" Ayla felt reinvigorated, like she was telling a gripping, grand ballad before the courts of the finest castle. “So in I went, secretly and slyly, knowing if I’d be caught it would be over. A girl using the boys privy? I’d be chastised until the end of time! In I went, quiet as a whisper and to my own desperate dismay I noticed something horrible; the privies were nowhere to be seen, removed from existence…” Again, the haunting thoughts dulled the flame inside her. “...All there was… was the… iron t-trough… which I tried to… I pulled down my shorts and… in the trough…” She could still remember looking down at the dull steel trough, puzzling herself at how she was supposed to use it without the proper faculties. Looking disgusted, Shibo leant in. "You... didn't... in the..." SHE'S A PERVERT! “I g-got stage fright. Doing it like a boy, I couldn’t, no matter how much I had to go. Yuka makes it look so easy, huh?” Ayla could only shrug her shoulders. “Keeping a strong face… I zipped back up and ran back into the black night, at this point I wouldn’t make it much longer. Ah!” Remembering Yuka's own tale, Ayla thrust a finger toward the lake. “The land of eternal hope, as Yuka calls it! I just had to make it out of the fort and down to the waters edge. A bush, a tree, a ledge, that's not as embarrassing as in the boys! When you're a traveller, you're basically raised peeing in nature! So off I went! On my walk out, all I could think of was just getting it done, but then fate threw a horrible twist! I heard voices coming up from town. I couldn’t let those people see me in my state, nor could I let them know where I was going. So… I ran and hid in the stable until they could pass. But then, another cruel twist of fate for the poor bard! My attempts to avoid detection worked too well! one of the boys locked me in the stables, unaware of my presence. That..." That was the worst part. "Was the end of it. I couldn't hold it in any longer. Alone, drunk, and about to water myself like a plant… I did it right there… in the hay.” "Let me guess, somebody saw you making water in the hay?" There was a subtle look of disgust on Shibo's face. Ayla could barely see it, but she knew it was there. It had been much worst, but Ayla wasn't yet at that part. “You’d think that. But here's the biggest twist of the whole story." And here came the twist, the most important part of any story, but recounting her worst moment didn't give Ayla the energy she needed for the grand finale. "It was, actually, all a dream. I was sleeping, and… actually relieving myself… in my bed.” “Your bed?” Shibo asked. “My bed.” Ayla confirmed it. “Did anybody find out about it?” “Funny you should say that,” And here was the biggest twist, the twist of the twist. “I was sharing a bed with my g-girlfriend at the time. We were c-cuddling so, of course, I ended up making my water against her back.” Not that it bothered Matilda, she always had a thing for that. “She got pretty soaked.” The warm memories of her old lover made Ayla giggle. “I… uh… So that’s it! A tale as shameful as your own!" I need a moral! Yuka's story had a moral! All good stories have a moral! Aha! "You don’t need to be so ashamed about doing what we all do. We’re Guildhands! Adventurers! We pee where we have to, right?” Unable to think of anything else to say, Ayla finished her story with a thumbs up that must've looked as awkward as it felt. Shibo looked lost for words, her mouth was wide open but no words came out. "I... guess." She said, just saying something to fill the empty air. "But that story's just our little secret right?" Overcome with the excitement she hadn't felt in a long while, The Bard wrapped up her enchanting tale with a bow and a question. "I haven't had a chance to tell a story in a while, even if it was my most embarrassing one. So what did you think?" She expected praise, applause befitting of the best playwrights, but what Ayla expected was not what Ayla got. With a smug smile, Shibo crossed her arms. "I thought it was cute." "C-Cute?" C-Cute! She really is a pervert! She couldn't look a stranger in the eyes after being told that. I just told her a story about wetting myself... and she found it cute! "No! No! No! You weren't meant to say that!" Ayla screamed with scorn. "It's not a cute story! It was a recollection of my most embarrassing moment! It wasn't meant to be cute!" Her cheeks felt hot as blood rushed to them, she must have looked as red as a pepper. "You’re supposed to say that it made you feel better! That was my intention! You can’t call my most shameful moments cute!” What kind of pervert calls that kind of story cute!? "Well it did." Shibo shrugged. "But that doesn't mean I didn't find it adorable." She said with a smug smile. "Adorable?" She's doing this on purpose! She has to be! "I tell you that I peed myself and you tell me it was cute and adorable like you’re one of those sleazy patrons at the Le’moir!” Befitting of the sleaziest, filthiest hole in all of Guilden! That's the kind of pervert she is! Shibo gasped, recoiling with disgust. "What kind of voyeur do you take me for!?" She protested. "It's not lewd of me to tell you that story was adorable." "It wasn't adorable!" Ayla couldn't take it, she couldn't look this voyeur in the eyes any longer. All she saw in those gleaming eastern eyes was a girl imagining her making a large stain on her sheets. “Imagine if it was you in my situation, reeling, desperate, about to burst! Imagine dreaming that you're making your water, only to wake up and see you're pissing your bed… with your girlfriend still in it!” “I can’t say I went in my bed...” With a gentle jerk of her finger, Shibo pointed once again to the large damp patch on the stone. “But please don’t make me say it." “Oh… r-right...” Ayla glanced over Shibo's shoulder. “I f-forgot.” Now she just felt guilty, retreating from Shibo's gaze and burying her head beneath her long fiery locks. “I can’t really speak, can I? I guess you do know what it’s like." Wanting to lighten the mood, she chuckled. "At least you didn't do it up somebody though." “Can we move on from this?” Shibo sighed. It was obvious she'd grown weary of the conversation. “Would you mind showing me up to the chambers?" Ha! We can move on from this! "Gladly! Grab your bag and let's get going. It's quite a way from the Undercroft!" Ayla rushed off toward the stairs, expecting Shibo to be right behind her. She'd hoped the new apprentice would be excited about seeing her new quarters, but as Ayla looked back to check, it was obvious she did not share her energy. "I... um, do you need a moment for anything else?" Shibo shook her head, hoisted her rucksack over her shoulder and followed Ayla into the Undercroft. The girls ventured through the bowels of the fort. To fill the silence, Ayla talked about Yuka, warning Shibo for what she'd gotten herself into. The blonde haired thief that Ayla called her best friend drank endlessly, farted when she pleased, and groped most things in range of her and to most apprentices that was enough for them to keep their distance. Shibo was well aware and didn't seem so bothered about being teased. But the best part came when Ayla shared the one thing about Yuka that made most people almost faint with disbelief. "She's royal-certified." The sounds as Shibo stammered and stuttered, trying to reply to what she'd just heard gave Ayla a fit of the giggles. At least she didn't go pale, or shriek, or question it violently, believing she was being tricked. She looked to be frozen in time, jaw agape, trying to make sense of what she'd just been told. The Royal Guildhands were the best of the Guild, and to see a girl with such poor conduct carry that rank and its reputation was too much for some people to understand. Past the spiral stairs, the girls had a run-in with two of the guilds more reclusive workers. It was Shibo who noticed first, retreating back into the corridor when she heard the approaching footsteps. "Shibo, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost?" "I'm fine, just a little startled by the footsteps, is all." Yuka's been gossiping about them hasn't she? It was a petty pasttime of Yuka's to beguile apprentices about the girls in the Undercroft, making them out to be demons who worked in the shadows, feasting on people who strayed down here. And Ayla wondered why Lucina wanted her in her study. The girls walked out into the corridor and were met by Andi, the assistant, and daughter of Fort Victoria's distinguished gunsmith, the small dark-haired engineer Margo. Although her short stature and pudgy face gave her the appearance of a child, Margo was older than expected. Eighteen years. She kept much of figure concealed beneath a dark, oil-smelling cloak. Andi, after her usual warm greetings, spoke to Shibo. Ayla was surprised to see the two had met, especially after their falling out with Yuka. From what she heard, it seemed that Shibo was supposed to meet Andi and her mother for tea, but based on the compromising position Ayla had found her in, and Yuka's fondness for her, it looked like that didn't happen. “I didn’t know she’d made plans with you both. Heh, if I’d known I’d have offered to walk her to the gunsmith." She said nothing of where Shibo had been, or who she'd been with. That was best for all. They converse a short while, but not for too long. After a half-arsed introduction by Margo, Andi was interrupted by her pulling at her dress, looking quite impatient. "Andi, can we please-" She winces, her feet crossed beneath the confines of her cloak, "I drank quite a bit of tea." Andi leaned down and whispered into her mothers ear. "Can you not hold it another min-" "No, now Andi!" She began pushing Andi down the corridor, off towards the privies with fuming impatience. "I can't stand another minute for you to idly chit-chat." The girls disappeared toward the privies before Andi could finish her conversation, leaving Ayla and Shibo alone in the corridors. “Don’t take it personally.” Ayla said, trying to lighten the mood. “Margo rarely speaks to anybody in the guild. She shows up, works in the gunsmith and then heads home.” She rarely does anything else. She's just in there all day with Andi. “She doesn’t get along with most of us. I used to talk with her and Andi all the time, but she and Yuka had a… falling out…” “A falling out?" With a heartsunk frown, Ayla described their strained relationship. "She and Yuka had a small "disagreement" about something. We don't like to talk about it.” She put it plainly, sparing the details that even she didn't like to recount. Suddenly, the thought of the nearby privies reminded Ayla that she had urgent business to attend to. She had wished to make a deposit at the privy before Lucina had her off hunting down Yuka and now she was growing desperate, the weight of last nights feast was pushing down on her lower tummy. I guess since I'm here, I could use the privies down there. "Do you mind if I make a quick stop before we head up?" Ayla felt her cheeks grow warm. "I, umm, just need to take care of something. It's okay if you want to keep going." Please say yes. "You probably want to get settled in right?" Please say yes. "I can wait if you're eager to get to your new quarters." Shibo shrugged her shoulders, she didn't seem too bothered. "Sure." She replied. That was all Ayla wanted to hear. She'd been desperate to go since getting back, but now she was struggling to hold it. "T-Thank you. I've been travelling all night and didn't have a chance to stop." Not to deal with this anyway. "I hadn't even got to unpack my stuff before the Guildmaster had me looking for Yuka." She rushed down the corridor, but as if the lords of fate had spat in her face, tragedy struck, and Ayla could see she wouldn't be using the lavatory the moment she saw a very animated Margo staring up in pain at the door. For herself, Ayla didn't mind; It was just a mild inconvenience. But for Margo, who was shuffling on her feet, pressing her hands between her legs, it was a different story. "What's wrong with the lavatory?" Ayla asked. "It's out of order." Andi replies with a disappointed sigh. "Mother should-" Margo didn't wait to listen to her daughter. Already, the pudgy engineer was storming back off down the hallway, muttering curses in her native tongue. Although Ayla was barely versed in the tongue of Steilheim, she was certain she heard the word "fuck" more than once. "Mother! W-Wait up!" Andi rushed off after her. All four girls reunited in the corridors. Margo pacing back and forth, continuing to curse. Her usual pale face was glowing red as she bit her lip, wincing in agony. "Mother... It's not too bad, is it?" Andi asked with a sorrowful voice. "I drank a whole pot of tea, what do you think!?" At least you didn't eat an entire table of food. Ayla commented in her head. "Would you feel better if we went down to the lake?" Her daughter suggested. "You could tinkle there." For a girl so reserved, the thought of pissing in a murky lake filled Margo with disgust, and it showed as her face twisted at the thought. But to Ayla, it looked like there was a brief moment of contemplation. "P-Please" She shook her head. “I have some semblance of decency! I’m not that wine-drinking fotze who sullies where she pleases!” "I can't go down to the lake either." Ayla added. I wish I could. "I, uh, need to use a privy." If she had to piss, she wouldn't have had a doubt of squatting over the water and relieving herself there, but the thought of crimping off a solid length in the lake was a thought too vile for The Bard to comprehend. Without warning, Margo wandered off again, this time off toward the upper halls of the Fort. “We’ll just have to go up to the halls." She was already far down the corridor, her words traipsing into an echo. I... I need to go with them. I can't hold it in much longer. With a warm brow, Ayla placed her hand on Shibo's shoulder. "D-Do you m-mind if we g-go with them?" Shibo did not object, and with her permission, both girls caught up with Andi and Margo. The nearest facilities after the Undercroft were in the dining hall. On the walk, Ayla feared the hall would be packed. Over a hundred Guildhands filling their empty bellies and relieving their full bladders after a hard day on the training yards. The line would be long, longer than she'd be able to wait. She walked slowly, keeping her pace with Margo, who waddled along, wincing with every step. Andi and Shibo continued their conversation, leaving Ayla to her own business. She focused all of her strength on holding herself. She clenched her fists in a desperate need to distract herself from the pain in her belly. Her steps were rough and slow, the hard head of the turtle pushing against her hole with every step. “Ayla? How are you feeling?” She had been so distracted she didn't even notice Shibo had asked her. Like I could just go in my knickers. "Ha! I'm fine!" She downplayed her own urges, hiding too that her issues lay with her bowels, not her bladder. "Seeing the lavatory though, made me feel a bit weaker." “Where are we going, anyway?” Shibo looked around at the girls, waiting for any to answer. “The dining hall. That’s the nearest lavatory from here.” Andi is the first, and most willing, to answer. She looked down at her mother and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Mother, are you sure you wouldn’t be better just using a beaker in the sm-” "Don’t say another-” Margo was not keen on the attention, rejecting her mother with a push. “Please just… silence until we get to the lavatory.” The rest of their walk was in silence, the only sounds were the soft whimpers of Margo as she ferried a full bladder up the stairs and along to the dining halls. Through the empty corridors, the girls finally arrived in the large hall of the fort. And it was just as Ayla had feared. She didn't care for the tables full of fighters ripping away at their meals. Her eyes immediately went toward the lavatory at the rear of the hall. "Look at that line..." She said miserably, raising a finger toward the line of desperate people waiting patiently outside the privies. "We couldn't have come at a worse time." "What do you want to do, mother?" Andi looked down at her mother, who was bulging beneath her cloak, her short stubby legs shaking. "Should we just go home and you can use our toilet?" "I don't think I can suffer the long walk home." Margo squeaked. "T-There are facilities in the living quarters, correct? T-Those are closer. We'll just have to use them." The living quarters!? The very thought of suffering the long walk to the rear of the castle made Ayla falter for a brief moment. In the moment of weakness, she felt her tightly puckered hole unclench, something slimy poking slightly from her opening. The Bard winced and pressed her hands against her hole. "They're all the way in the north wing!" Suddenly, her hand caught something nestled in her pocket. Ayla remembered. She breathed a sigh of relief. She was saved. She raised her hand meekly and grabbed the attention of all three girls. "I, uh... have an idea. We could u-use the lavatory in the Guildmaster's q-quarters." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silver key. "I, uh, have a key." The girls glared at the silver key in Ayla's hand. "Why on earth do you have a key for the Guildmaster's quarters?" Margo, of the three girls, was the one to ask. "I got it from Lucina." And forgot to give it back/ "And we're welcome to use her facilities?" Ayla chuckled nervously. "Not exactly. I, uh, borrowed this key and forgot to give it back." Both girls stared at the key with devilish temptation. The Guildmaster's quarters was just up one set of stairs. The finest chamber in the whole fort, and she had a key for it. She'd been in there plenty of times, but never had she used the privy. She could only imagine it being a grand room, lavished with the most fragrant flowers and a marble box to sit your arse atop. The thought was too tempting to pass up, but she needed to hear from the other girls first. Finally, Margo opposed, turning her back on the key. "I can't, and neither can you. We're not getting in trouble for trespassing." Oooh... I was hoping she'd say yes! The visions of a sweetly-scented marble privy were fading from her mind. "I have to agree with Margo." Shibo added. "We can't trespass in the Guildmaster's quarters just to use their toilet." "S-See?" Margo pointed toward Shibo. "At l-least she has some s-sense!" Andi spoke up too. "I agree with mother and Shibo. Lucina wouldn't appreciate us trespassing in her quarters and using her facilities. No matter how desperate the situation." "We have some respect for her privacy. I also quite enjoy my work, even if it is in a dark filth-ridden dungeon. I'm not going to damn that for the sake of my comfort." Margo spoke like a cannon fired, hitting Ayla's gut with a growing feeling of guilt with each word she spoke. The tone of her voice growing angrier. "You said the other lavatories were in the living quarters, right Ayla?" Shibo asked. "That's all the way in the north tower!" Ayla replied with a whimper. Just thinking about the privy made her hole quiver. "If I don't get to privy soon I'm going to..." Ahh! I can't say it out loud! The Bard shuffled on her feet, turning her eyes away from Shibo. She could feel the warmth as blood rushed to her cheeks. "Might go..." That was the only way she could say it, like an embarrassed little girl. "You can hold it." Shibo said with an encouraging smile. The apprentice did her best to be supportive. Uhh... I wanted to go use Lucina's privy so badly. I can't go on my own. "You're right." Ayla returned the apprentice's smile. "It'd be rude to just invite myself into Lucina's quarters and use her privy lavatory." I really need to... "Let's just go." And then, without warning, horror swept over her; Ayla's eyes widened, her lips trembled. From her quivering hole, a small tuff of wind escaped. Ah! Ayla wanted to scream, it wasn't loud but it was certainly ripe, polluting the air around her. "We need to get going now! Right now! Now! Now! Now!" As if possessed, The Bard grabbed Shibo by the shoulder and vacated the dining hall. Please don't smell it! Please don't smell it! Please don't smell it! "Did I hear something just now?" Shibo asked with a puzzled look. Ah! She heard it! "No! Nothing! Nothing at all! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" Ayla pushed Shibo out into the corridor. Already she felt another gurgle and her urge to break wind was growing. Her stomach felt bloated, her ring began twitching as she tried to hold in the impending fart. Once she was in the corridor Ayla walked frantically toward an open window in the middle of the corridor. She turns her butt to the window and let loose there, the air lifting her skirt, and let the wind carry her foul air. Thankfully for The Bard nobody seemed to care that she'd rushed off. Shibo and Andi were distracted by Margo, who had stopped just outside the dining hall. Her face tensed up and the engineer fell onto her knees, still covered by her long cloak. Please no! Ayla pleaded with the gods of fate. Margo looked incapacitated, so full to the brim that she could no longer stand on her own two feet. The girls chatted out of earshot of Ayla, who was busy dealing with her own problems out of earshot of the girls. She could see Andi and Margo whispering to each other, which was never a good sign. Margo only ever resorted to whispers when it was something rather unpleasant that she didn't wish to share. "What's the matter?" Ayla called back to her friends. Please hurry! "Mother is feeling a bit... over-encumbered. She just needs a moment." Another toot polluted the fresh air, riper than the last. Ayla grimaced, grasping her belly and hobbling up and down. "I d-don't think I have a moment!" The weight of her bowels made it feel like there was a landslide pushing against her puckered ring, about to break free into her knickers. "P-Please hurry!" Shibo looked up from consoling Margo, her eyes glanced at The Bard as she let loose in the wind for a third time. “Ayla, can you hold it a little longer? Just while Margo has a moment to pull herself together. You should go on ahead if you can't." "Ah... I-I..." I-I'd love to... There was nothing Ayla wanted more than to rush off, but she couldn't. But a Royal Guildhand must put others before themselves. She remembered the oath she had sworn. If she abandoned Margo and rushed off to selfishly cater to her own needs she wouldn't forgive herself. "No, it's f-fine." Even thinking about it filled her with guilt, the thought of breaking her honour and leaving a helpless girl to an unfortunate accident. "It wouldn't be fair to Margo if I left you all and took care of myself." "That's very considerate of you, Ayla." Andi smiled. "But please don't make yourself uncomfortable for mother's sake." The Bard let loose another toot, wetter than the last three, growing the fear that she had just drawn mud in her knickers. "It's n-no problem, Andi. I can wait." I can't wait! Please hurry! She tried to disguise her discomfort with a feigned smile that didn't last long. It was at that moment, just when things seemed bleak for both desperate girls, that an unlikely thing occurred. "I don't mind carrying you, Margo." Shibo knelt down on one knee and offered herself to Margo. Everything went silent as Margo and Andi whispered among themselves. Ayla kept her distance, squeezing her thighs and fighting against the forces bearing down on her anus. Her muscles were beginning to feel weak, trembling. She was losing the fight, but she had to hold out. All she could do now was relieve the pressure in her tummy by the open window, concealing the evidence of the vile acts committed by her rear. The girls whispered among themselves again. And finally, much to Ayla's joy, Margo agreed to the odd proposition. She wrapped her arms around Shibo's shoulders and allowed the new apprentice to carry her. Haa... we can get going! I n-need to hurry, I can feel the troll coming out of the cave!" Right, can we g-get going please?" Feeling her stomach settle briefly, Ayla approached the girls. "We've got the whole fort to walk through." The walk was agony, worse than she could imagine. Ayla could hardly walk, moving with a stiff, rigid movement. It felt like she was walking with a rod up her backside, every step jostling it loose. To make it worse, she was forced to match the speed of Shibo, who carried Margo with caution and care. Her stomach grumbled, her legs trembled, and it was beginning to look impossible. The wind was the worst part, her gut gurgled and the only resistance was the weakening muscles of her rectum, clenching her ring shut with dwindling strength. It was the worst for Ayla near the north tower. As the girls walked through the corridors, Ayla felt herself slip, and as she took a rogue step forward, her sphincter unclenched, and the fart she had been holding escaped with a loud, indistinct creak. Her cheeks burned like wildfire as she caught glimpse of two apprentices out on the balcony, enjoying an evening puff of their pipes. The girls behind her looked around, trying to make out the source of the creaking sound; Shibo was the one to ask. "Did I just hear a floorboard creak?" "Ha... yep! Loose floorboards!" Ayla chuckled. I need to go before they realize floorboards don't leave such a smell. A few more minutes of agonizing walking. There was only silence between the girls, leaving Ayla with the teasing thoughts in her head. Margo looked no better, pressing herself against Shibo and whimpering every few steps. This is embarrassing... I feel like a little girl being guided to the privy. Everybody we pass keeps looking... The pressure in her gut made her feel bloated again, like she was going to pop. I... really... need to... fart... She needed to get away just for a moment. If she could get somewhere quiet, she could at least relieve herself of some of the air in her tummy. Luckily, the last corridor before the tower was connected to the old balconies overlooking the lake. The balcony! Perfect! She clapped her hands together gleefully. She just needed to slip away for a moment and then relief could be hers. Ayla stopped just before doorway to the balcony. "Hey, you guys go on ahead without me. I... need a moment."Ayla addressed her friends with a straining voice. She tried to keep her composure, clenching the muscles of her rectum as tightly as her strength would allow her. "Okay, let's go, Shibo." Margo was accepting of the idea, pressing her thighs against Shibo and spurring her forward like a horse. "Mother, no! Ayla was kind enough to wait for you. We'll be kind enough to wait for her." Andi addressed Margo sternly with a waggle of her finger. "You're a grown girl, you can hold it in for a moment." "Are you not aware of my current circums-" "Do what you have to do, Ayla. But please be quick." Andi ignored her mother and spoke to directly to Ayla. She gestured toward the doorway she was heading toward, ignoring the desperate mutterings of Margo who continued to squirm impatiently on Shibo's shoulders. They're not even going to ask? Ha... thank the heavens. "Thank you, Andi. I promise I'll be quick." With her friends waiting, Ayla staggered out onto the walkway, almost doubled over as her stomach felt like it was about to pop. She feared a wrong move would be enough to ignite the bubbles brewing in her gut. She was alone out here, nobody would hear the sinful sounds that would come from her backside. Her cheeks were burning; even when she was alone, Ayla felt embarrassed about breaking wind. The sound, the smell, anybody passing could catch a whiff, but right now she had no choice. She was completely alone. She walked to the very end of the balcony, as far away from the door as she could. Once she was certain nobody would hear the evidence, Ayla turned, aiming her butt towards the lake, and as soon as she heard the wind whistle, let loose a reeking whistle of her own. Oooh... I needed that. The pressure in her gut abated as Ayla let a gust of wind loose in her knickers. "Haa..." She moaned, quivering with glee. That one was skirt-lifting. Her stomach rumbled and within seconds the need to break wind was already overwhelming. Ayla leant back on the railing and let out a second tuff of wind. She squeaked as the second toot came with more than just a foul smell. Something reared its slimy head again, pushing against her hole. Ah! The troll's almost out of the cave! She couldn't idle any longer. She rushed back into the corridors, keeping her hands behind her back, subtly holding them against her puckered ring. If she didn't get to the privy soon, there'd be a mess to clean up. "Ha, sorry about that." Ayla re-approached the party, keeping her composure, albeit poorly. Her knees were weak, trembling, about to give in as she felt the urge to just squat down and fill her knickers. "I was just making sure... the city was... okay!" She bumbled, piecing together the first words that came into her head. What a pisspoor excuse, they'll know something was amiss... I can't tell them I just went to fart... it'd be embarrassing. Thankfully, none of the girls looked interested in asking. Margo was squirming on Shibo's back, each uncomfortable shuffle the small girl made looked to be her last. She buried her head in Shibo's shoulder while Andi tried to comfort her mother, reassuring her that soon they'd be at the privy. Thank the heavens. Rigid and stiff, but with her stomach somewhat settled, Ayla pushed on with the girls, on toward the north tower. The lavatory in the north tower resided down a short, dimly lit corridor. A lone wooden door marked the entrance and before she even got close, Ayla could sense something was amiss. She could make out the note pinned to the door and she knew it was not a good sign. Dockert... you senile old... Gah! What's happening this time? "No! No! No!" She dashed ahead of the other girls and ripped the note from the door, desperate to read it. A note to all apprentices: “There’s only one working privy while we fix the waterway beneath the halls. So if you’ve got to squirt out that rancid filth they serve in the mess, you can turn back ‘round and shit there. Don’t worry, we’re not going to have you pissing from the balconies all night. Work’ll be done shortly after dinner. So keep your arseholes puckered 'til then” - Dockert "Oh thank heavens... I thought we were in trouble." "What? What does it say?" Just as she finished reading the note was yanked from her hands by Margo, who glanced over it, crumpled it up and threw it on the floor. “A-At least one is still functional… that old custodian is still good for some…” Margo froze, and then without warning, struck the door open with her foot. "Just one more door!" “Hold on! What do we d-do about the o-one stall?” Andi exclaimed, sounding as worried as both desperate girls. “Both of you need to go?” Neither girls answer her question. Ayla didn't want to think about how it would be done. She was on the verge of soiling herself, and looking at how frantically Margo struck the door, she was on the verge of wetting herself. Both girls needed to get to the privy and only then could they decide who would get to plop themselves down first. The familiar sight of the lavatory. At last, Ayla was here. She smiled with glee, just another minute and she'd be seated, knickers around her knees and unloading the burdens of her stomach. She glanced around, seeing the one privy open to her, the small wooden box waiting for her, teasing her. "Ha~" That was the best sight she'd seen all day. "Excuse me!" She walked off toward the alcove that housed the small wooden box. It's coming out! But just as she reached the door, standing a mere inch away from relief. Something stops her. "N-No!" It was Margo, who had called out in protest. "I need to g-go first! I've been w-waiting long enough!" "I have too!" I've been waiting longer! I've been waiting a whole day! Ayla wanted to yell, but she was too shy to do it. Even now as she stood with her legs shaking. "P-Please don't make me beg." I d-don't want to soil myself. "I don't want to say what will happen if I don't use the privy." It's almost touching my knickers. Ayla sighed. The sight of Margo, squirming on Shibo's back, gritting her teeth and moaning quietly into the sleeve of her jacket, made Ayla feel guilty. Uuuh... "You're right." Defeated, Ayla stepped aside and offered the privy to Margo. "“You’re right. I shouldn't be selfish. You've been waiting longer than I have.” Margo looked as if she cracked a smile and she lowered herself from Shibo's back. "Put me down, Shibo." She waddled along, the front of her cloaking bulging as she grasped herself. "I shan't..." But as Margo waddled desperately toward the privy, the plump brown snake she'd been holding in reared it's moist head from between her cheeks, spreading her hole. It was already descending. Ayla tried to resist, tried to pull back the snake unfurling, but her muscles couldn't cope, weary from the struggle. She couldn't hold it in anymore. She couldn't wait another second, let alone another minute. The inviting sight of the open wooden hole was too much for her quivering anus to bear. She had to go. Right now. And then, Ayla did something even she wasn't expecting. She booled past Shibo and Margo, hunched over, grasping her stomach and pushed past the old wooden door. SLAM! She pulled the door shut, bolting the lock with her one good hand, the other already fumbling to pull down her knickers. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Ayla squealed once she had realized her selfishness. "If I don't go right now, I'm going..." A spike of fear halted her tongue. Behind her shaking legs her anus twitched, the weight she could feel was slipping between her cheeks. "Ah! I'm sorry!" She hooked both hands around her knickers and yanked them down. The log had already pushed itself out, dangling over the dark hole beneath her. "Ah!...ah...ahh!" the wooden box creaked as Ayla plopped herself down. Her stomach cramped for a brief moment, the intensity making the poor bard wince. The moist log spread her hole wider, slithering between her crack like a long, hot snake. "Ahhh~" The soft, sloppy consistency forced the snake to break up into smaller, sloppy lengths that plopped into the depths below. The small box-like privy filled with a muddy squelching that crackled against the hot air, polluted with the stench as she expelled. The relief was overwhelming. Once the cramps had settled, Ayla felt her stomach lighten as she pushed off a length of the log. With a firm clench of her ring, her anus winced, crimping off the length she had produced. two, smaller sloppier logs followed from her muddied cave, plopping down into the depths beneath her with a small rain of mud. Each release began with a dirty toot that tickled the walls of her rear hole. The feeling, coupled with the relief of unloading made Ayla quiver. But that wasn't the end of it; Ayla's stomach bubbled and with a small push, a final muddy toot gasped from her backside. "Hmm..." Ayla grinned, feeling the last of the pressure in her gut fade into the dark, polluted hole beneath her. Her stomach gurgled, and a small bout of pressure filled her lower tummy. One final log needing to be expelled. "Verdamme Fotze!" The angry foreign curses of Margo ruined the silence Ayla was enjoying. Ayla yelped, her heart began racing, her teeth bit against her lip with guilt. Fearing the door was going to be opened she lifted her knees and pressed her hands against her chest to conceal her maidenly garden. The shock of Margo's attempts at intruding gave the bard stage fright. The log she was trying to force out retreated like a scared turtle to its shell. Her stomach cramped again; A brief pain in her gut that made Ayla wince once more. "Just give me one more minute!" She whimpered, the banging wracking her with guilt as Margo slammed harder against the door. No matter how much she strained or shook, trying to push the last of the brown slop from her bowels, it wouldn't come. It was a stubborn one, lingering at the edge of her ring. She could feel the small round budge yearning for release. The banging echoed. It was haunting. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! For a small girl she possessed a hand of solid steel. Ayla whimpered, the banging wracking her with guilt as Margo slammed harder against the door. Suddenly, the banging stopped. Silence filled the stall. Drip! Drip! Drip! Like a faucet leaking, a piddling sound prattled in the quiet air. A small pale puddle crept along the ground, beneath the small gap in the door. The piddling grew more intense, into a muffled hiss that lasted for several seconds. The puddle growing beneath the door continued to grow, forming a pool that rested near her boots. Everything went quiet again. Now a strong scent of urine mixed with the foulness of the privy, producing a stink that curdled The Bard's nose. "Eh, is everything okay out there?" Ayla asked. In her gut, she knew exactly what had happened, but she didn't have the heart to acknowledge it. "Y-Yes!" "Okay. It's just that..." "I said everything is fine!" Margo responded venomously. Before The Bard could say anything else, a powerful strike hit the door, causing her to yelp and lift her feet. Margo's angry... She squirmed on the seat of the privy, shifting from cheek to cheek. She sat, twiddling her thumbs, waiting for the last length of her mess to slide from her hole. She pushed, her starfish twitching as she tried her hardest to push it out. Pfft! but all she could push out was a puff of foul air. "Hmm..." She grumbled. She reached for the small wooden holder beside the privy, hoping for some paper to wipe with. Empty. She shuffled on the privy, looking beside her, behind her, even above her for something to wipe her backside with, but there was nothing. "Hey Shibo, a-are you still there?" Ayla was given no choice but to ask those her friends waiting outside the door. "I, uh, do any of you have any tissues in your rucksacks? There's none in here." "I have some, give me a second to find them." Her rucksack shuffled as Shibo rooted around for her tissues. Ayla bent down and took a gander at her knickers, fearing one of her earlier farts had drawn mud. She breathed a sigh of relief as she saw they were still as white as when she'd put them on that morning. There was a tap on the door. "Here you g-go. Should I just open the door?" "N-No! I'll j-just..." Ayla leant forward, feeling the wet mud on her cheeks squeezing together, and pulled the door open with just enough space to put her hand out. She fiddled around, waiting for the tissues to be placed in her hand. "They smell nice." She sniffed them. Mint, one of her favourites. "Like mint." She sat forward, squeezing the tissue until it crumpled and felt her stomach gurgle. "Umm... I have another favour. Would you minding running a faucet? J-Just for a minute?" The sound of running water always loosened her up. When on the trail and making a stop in the bushes, if she couldn't go, Ayla always listened to the river. The sounds of rushing water always helped to soften up her stomach. "S-Sure." Shibo sounded confused but she accepted the strange request without question. The faucet creaked and right after the lavatory was filled with the rushing sounds of water. Ayla leant forward, wrapping both hands around her stomach and closed her eyes. She let the gentle sounds of rushing water wash over her, imagining herself beside a long river. She shuffled again on the privy and finally felt the small log slip from her hole, dropping into the hole with a tiny splat. The Bard breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, it was over. Much better... I'd been sitting on that all day. She grabbed the tissues she'd gotten from Shibo and wiped away the mess from her backside, using a generous helping of the sheets to clean off the muck. As soon as she felt spotless between the cheeks, Ayla yanked up her panties, and opened the privy door. Patting her now empty tummy, Ayla stepped out from the stall. Upon walking out, the first step she took was into something wet. "Ah! What did I just step in!?" Horrified, she slowly tilted her head down, looking upon a massive lake that was spreading around the tiled floor. "Please tell me I just stepped in water!" She cringed, her skin feeling prickly as she stared down at the darkened patch on the front of her boot. "It was," A small smirk began growing on Shibo's face, "a few hours ago." M-Margo's p-p-pee! "Ah! Ew!" As gracefully as a drunken dancer, Ayla leapt over the puddle, but it only got worse. There was a soggy splatter, and Ayla felt the specks of something warm touch her bare legs. "Ah! I think it splashed on my leg!" She creased up, holding back her need to scream. P-Pee! And I've stood in it! Ew! Ew! Ew! She only made things worse for herself as she began wiping off the specks with her bare hands. Ah! What am I doing!? "Ew! Now it's on my hands!" Her hands felt dirty, sullied, defiled, like she'd wiped them through the puddle. "This is what I get for going first! I'm being punished!" The sink! The sink! She rushed for the sink and ran her hands under the running faucet. The warmth of the water washed over her hands. It felt like heaven all over again. Shibo watched, letting a sly giggle escape at The Bard's misfortune. Ayla couldn't believe it. What had started as a night of wanting some rest had turned into a horrible nightmare. She had met a perverted, yet polite apprentice and found herself walking the entire length of the Fort with a length of her own perched between her cheeks. For her, the day couldn't get much worse, but Ayla would take something good away from this. Sometime in the future, she'd look back at this day and remember her first meeting with Shibo Kenshiko: The Guild Apprentice.

Sebastian Michaelis was the Butler for the Phantomhive Manor. As a demon, he spent all day protecting and doing things for the family, but night was spent working on more practical endeavors. One of those was learning about Ciel Phantomhive. He had seen the way the boy seemed different at night. As Opposed to his normal arrogant self, at night the boy had a way of curling up in his bedsheets and whimpering that reminded Sebastian of a little. He knew something was up. The tall 6’1 man-demon didn’t know how much his life was about to change.

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 Bunch of Female Messy Diaper clips! Biggest upload ever on this site! Struck a gold mine of diaper messing clips. (pretty sure one of the girls in this file is a member of this site. If she sees this and you don't like it I will take it down) Submitter cheese142 Submitted 05/08/2019 Category Female AB/DL Messing  

This will follow the story of a Kobold slave, named Virek. She stands at 3'4" and weighs in at around 48 lbs. She has blue scales and yellow eyes, with an ownership brand on her right shoulderblade. As in the tags, this will have wetting, messing, and probably diapers. --------------------------------------- Virek was commonly touted about as an exotic slave. Something to be looked at and sometimes laughed at. When she was barely hatched, some adventurers attacked her tribe for gold and splendor, and she was among their prises, sold into slavery. Her sapphire colored scales were a rarity, and because of this she was often dressed in exotic outfits and put on display as little more than a breathing setpiece. Today was one of those days. She was dressed in vibrant violet tights and a matching sash, practically topless. Though that means nothing, she hadn't any breasts or mammaries. She stood on display, under the heat of a bright light only intensified by the glass ceiling. She was drinking as much water as was allowed, and starting to regret it. Her bladder was calling out for help, but she was under strict orders not to leave her display. She was punished harshly last time she disobeyed, they locked her in a brightly lit room with no way to speak to others and a constant light sensitivity headache. She squirmed a little as her need grew. It had been almost an hour now, and her small bladder was stressed. She looked desperately for her owner, but found he was on the other side of the room. She didn't dare hold herself, but she knew any leaks would be obvious with her brightly colored pants. She murmured in Draconic, one of the few comforts she had to remind her of who whe truly is, and looked to the crowd. So many partygoers and onlookers that are blissfully unaware of her plight. So many that are about to get a show to remember. Virek had started dancing. As a way to hide her squirming and help fight her needs, though some required her to lift her tail highly, putting increased strain on her bladder. The owner stayed away, at the drink table talking to some noblewoman or the other. Virek kept dancing, eventually starting to discretely rub her scaled thighs together mid-dance as a half-improvised dance and half desperate attempt to keep herself in check. She couldn't stop dancing if she tried. If she stopped, she would certainly lose control. At the same time, she was getting tired. Her bladder was visibly bulged, and though it would be hard to tell without knowledge pertaining to her scaly hide, she was certain that at least a few were aware of her plight. She kept dancing, and as she feared, she turned away from the crowd in a spin and when she raised her tail for the pose.. She leaked. Three seconds of leaking, but it felt like hours. The warmth and relief almost made her hold the pose and just let it all go, but she snapped out of it. She looked down at her pants. Large, visible wet spot on her crotch and spreading to the rear, as well as down her legs. She kept dancing and hoped nobody noticed. She couldn't stop, if she did it would only get worse..

Gurochan got a recent revamp and I though I should remind people of this fun resource. The Scat board, despite the name, has a great deal of peeing, wetting, diapers, desperation, and other goodies relevant to our interests. Check it out! Share your collection! Keep circulating the tapes!