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  1. In the heart of the kingdom of Argent, the capital's skyline was dominated by the imposing Castle Moraine, a symbol of power and authority. Within its stone walls, the royal court buzzed with preparations for the dual birthday celebrations of Princess Jasmine Fontaine and her confidante, Magdalene of House Ellesmere. As the evening shadows stretched, an air of excitement hung in the air. For weeks before their joint birthday, Princess Jasmine had been restless. Every time she looked out of the vast castle windows, her eyes drifted to the vibrant city below, alive with the everyday lives of its citizens. The castle had always been her gilded cage, and with her age of majority approaching, the burden of royal duties and expectations grew heavier. The upcoming grand royal birthday celebration was the epitome of Jasmine's dilemma. Hundreds would attend, nobles from distant lands would come bearing gifts, and there would be hours of speeches, dances, and formalities. But what bothered Jasmine the most was the fact that it would not be about her or Magdalene. It would be a political event, a showcase of the kingdom's opulence and power. Jasmine yearned for something more genuine. She wanted laughter that wasn't orchestrated, conversations that weren't rehearsed, and a celebration that was truly about her and her dear friend. She wished for just one day of normalcy, where she wasn't Princess Jasmine Fontaine but simply Jasmine. And so, the idea to sneak out took root. The princess had the resources of the entire castle at her fingertips, but she needed to be discreet. She had begun observing the maids, studying their mannerisms, their attire. One evening, after a lavish dinner, Jasmine had snuck into the servants' quarters. She had felt a rush of adrenaline as she pilfered two simple dresses, a pair of worn shoes, and a couple of shawls. She hid them away in her chambers, waiting for their birthday night. Magdalene had always been her anchor, the voice of reason to her impulses. But for this adventure, Jasmine managed to persuade her, playing on their shared desire to celebrate turning of age as themselves, not just as noble figures. Jasmine's quest for normalcy wasn't just about evading a grand party. It was a deep-seated desire to understand the lives of those she would one day rule, to experience the joys and sorrows of a commoner, and to escape, even if just for a night, the weight of her crown. She wanted to be seen for who she was, not what her title represented. The true gift she sought for her birthday was the freedom to be herself, unburdened and unrestrained. Finally, the night came and the two young ladies found themselves face to face in their underclothes as their servants rushed about making final preparations. Magdalene of House Ellesmere was a vision of classical beauty. Her face, like a canvas of an impressionist painting, bore a smattering of freckles, the result of many days spent under the sun during her childhood in the Ellesmere estates. These little sun-kisses danced across the bridge of her nose, fanned out over her high cheekbones, and faded as they descended down her neck. They were a testament to her outdoor escapades and gave her an endearing, youthful appearance. Magdalene's voluptuous figure was impossible to overlook. She was generously endowed with a large bosom that made the bodice of her dresses stretch snugly. This, coupled with her wide hips and a sizable, rounded butt, gave her an hourglass silhouette that was admired by many. Her regal poise and grace were all the more impressive given her curvaceous physique. In their private moments, Jasmine, with her cheeky nature, would often playfully pinch Magdalene's butt, teasing her about her "royal assets". Princess Jasmine, in stark contrast, bore an ethereal beauty. Her frame was slender, almost willowy. The delicate lines of her body were graceful, with a lithe, athletic build that hinted at her love for activities like dancing and horse riding. Though she didn't share the fullness of Magdalene's chest, Jasmine's breasts were perky, complementing her petite physique. But the real magnetic pull of Princess Jasmine was her face. It was heart-shaped, with a pointed chin and high cheekbones. Her lips, always upturned in a radiant, infectious smile, were the shade of soft rose petals. They spoke of her zest for life and her mischievous nature. Her eyes, however, were her most captivating feature. Alight with a perpetual twinkle, they were deep pools of amber, reflecting her spirit, her dreams, and her occasional bouts of rebellion. They were windows to her soul, mirroring her desire for freedom and her yearning to be understood not as a royal but as a young woman on the cusp of adulthood. Together, the two women were a harmonious blend of vivacity and elegance, each enhancing the beauty of the other through their stark differences. As maids prepared their grand dresses and courtiers practiced their bows and curtsies, Princess Jasmine, with her dark rebellious eyes, whispered a plan to Magdalene. It was a plan of escape – to sneak out and experience the real world beyond the castle's confines. Magdalene, with her always pristine golden locks, looked around anxiously. "Are you sure about this, Jasmine? What if we get caught?" "We won't," Jasmine winked, pulling out two commoner dresses. "We'll be peasants for a night!" In the dimly lit chamber, the two young women unfolded the plain dresses that Jasmine had procured. Each dress was simple, with none of the fine embroidery or luxurious materials that they were accustomed to. These were garments of practicality, designed for durability rather than beauty. Magdalene hesitated as she held the dress against her body, the rough texture of the fabric contrasting starkly with the softness of her underclothes. She grimaced slightly, feeling the coarse material, so different from the silks and velvets of her usual attire. "It feels like burlap," she murmured, a blush rising to her freckled cheeks. "How do people wear these every day?" Jasmine, ever the adventurous one, chuckled. "It's just for one night, Maggie. Think of it as... embracing the full experience." Pulling the dress over her head, Magdalene winced as the fabric grazed her skin. Adjusting the fit, she found the dress surprisingly roomy, accommodating her full bust and wide hips. It had a simple scoop neckline and reached just below her knees, allowing her a freedom of movement she wasn't used to in her more constricting noble gowns. The color, a faded brown, made her freckles stand out even more prominently, and her golden locks cascaded over her shoulders, contrasting with the dress's dull hue. Jasmine slipped into her own dress with a swiftness that spoke of her excitement. On her slender frame, the dress hung a bit loose, but its simplicity highlighted her lithe body. The muted blue of the fabric made her amber eyes pop, and the shorter length of her dress revealed her toned calves, shaped from hours of dancing in the royal hall. Looking at each other, they both burst into giggles. Gone were the princess and the noblewoman, replaced by two commoner girls ready for an evening of fun and mischief. The transformation was complete, and the city awaited their escapades. Magdalene's nervousness wasn't just about getting caught. Her bladder was already dancing from anxiety. Jasmine, on the other hand, didn't have a care in the world. Together, they navigated the winding castle corridors, evading guards and servants, making their way to a secret passage Jasmine had discovered years ago. This ancient corridor, dimly lit by the occasional torch, was a relic from a bygone era. The walls were lined with stones, each painstakingly cut and set to fit together like an intricate puzzle, speaking to the craftsmanship of the artisans of old. The vaulted ceilings bore faded frescoes, most of them wearied by time, depicting scenes of courtly love and heroic feats. The ambiance of the passageway was one of secrets and whispered tales. As they proceeded, Jasmine, her voice echoing slightly in the confined space, began recounting a story. "This passageway," she started, her voice filled with mischief, "was built for one of my ancestors, Queen Elara. It was said she had a lover, a commoner, and in those days, such liaisons were forbidden. So, this secret tunnel was constructed, allowing her lover to sneak into the castle unseen." Magdalene tried to listen, but her own growing desperation was proving to be a distraction. Every step seemed to intensify the pressure on her bladder. She would furtively squeeze her crotch with her hand, hoping Jasmine wouldn't notice. The coolness of the stone under her fingers and the increasing urgency made her fidget with each step, her face flushed not just from the story but also from her predicament. Suddenly, Jasmine halted and grimaced. "Oh no... All this talk, and now I need to pee!" Magdalene's eyes widened in disbelief. She herself was barely holding on, and hearing Jasmine voice the same urgency amplified her own discomfort. Without much ado, Jasmine glanced around, ensuring they were alone. She hiked up her dress, revealing her pale thighs, and positioned herself against the stone wall of the tunnel. The sound that followed was unmistakable: a steady stream hitting the ground, echoing slightly in the quiet of the passage. Magdalene couldn't help but glance, catching a brief view of Jasmine's nethers. The sight, combined with the sound of flowing water, made her own desperation spike. She bit her lower lip, trying to focus on anything but the pooling warmth at Jasmine's feet. As Jasmine finished up, adjusting her dress, she chuckled. "Ah, much better! Come on, Maggie, we're almost there!" Magdalene nodded, her eyes darting around, wondering if she could muster the courage to relieve herself in the passageway as well. But her inherent shyness and the looming promise of the city beyond kept her moving forward, despite the increasing discomfort. Emerging into the dimming light of the city, the pair found themselves amidst the maze-like streets, surrounded by laughter, music, and the aroma of roasted meats. Following their ears, they ended up at The Crooked Barrel, a lively tavern renowned for its brews. The interior was lit by the warm glow of lanterns, revealing an assortment of patrons. Thick wooden beams overhead seemed to absorb the laughter and stories of many generations. The princess, eyeing the drinks, slapped a royal coin onto the counter. "Two of your best brews!" she demanded with glee. The barkeep, a burly man with a thick beard, raised an eyebrow at the gold coin but said nothing. He served them two overflowing mugs of frothy beer. As they drank, the pair began to mingle with the other patrons. Jasmine flirtatiously chatted with a young knight who had no inkling of her true identity, while Magdalene, albeit hesitantly, was charmed by a witty townsman. As the night progressed and they downed more beers, Magdalene's anxiety about getting caught was soon replaced by the increasing urgency of her bladder. The constant chug of ale and the bubbling conversations around her only accentuated the feeling. At The Crooked Barrel, the array of brews available was impressive. Jasmine, always one to dive headfirst into an experience, eagerly pointed to a menu nailed to a wooden pillar. The list boasted brews from different parts of the kingdom, each with its unique flavor profile and potency. The first they tried was Golden Marrow, a light ale with a golden hue that shimmered in their mugs. It had a refreshing, slightly citrusy taste, reminding Magdalene of summer evenings at the Ellesmere estate. Next was Stout Heart, a dark, thick brew that left a trace of coffee and caramel on the tongue. Jasmine loved its boldness, praising its rich flavor, while Magdalene took smaller sips, already feeling the weight in her bladder. Whispering Wheat followed, a white beer that was frothy and had a touch of coriander and orange zest. By this point, Magdalene's hesitance to drink was evident. Every gulp reminded her of her bursting bladder, and she began to fidget in her seat. The tavern's atmosphere wasn't helping either. The sound of liquid being poured into mugs, the distant sound of a bubbling brook that ran behind the establishment, and the frequent toasts and clinks of glasses constantly drew her attention back to her predicament. Jasmine, with a teasing glint in her eyes, insisted on one last drink, the Blushing Berry. A mead infused with raspberries and blackberries, it was sweet with a hint of tartness. Magdalene, despite her better judgment, couldn't resist its allure and took a few sips. Every drop seemed to magnify the pressure inside her. Throughout their tasting spree, other factors exacerbated Magdalene's discomfort. The chilly breeze that occasionally wafted through the tavern sent shivers through her, making her acutely aware of her fullness. Laughter echoed, with some of the deep belly laughs vibrating in a frequency that seemed to resonate with her urge. Even the wooden stool she sat on seemed to push against her in just the wrong way. As Jasmine relished each drink, Magdalene was caught in a battle against time, trying to balance her desire to enjoy the night and the ever-increasing urge to find a place to relieve herself. "I need to... powder my nose," Magdalene whispered to Jasmine. Jasmine gestured to a door at the back of the tavern. "There's the privy." Magdalene's face contorted in distaste. "You expect me to use that?" Jasmine giggled. "It's all part of the experience." Magdalene of House Ellesmere had grown up in an environment where luxury, cleanliness, and propriety were of paramount importance. The idea of using a commoner's privy, with its potential lack of sanitation and the unknown state it might be in, filled her with unease. She had heard tales of such places being little more than pits, emitting odors that could turn the stomach and housing pests and vermin. The very thought of exposing herself in such an environment, with its rough hewn wood and lack of any of the perfumed scents she was accustomed to, made her cringe inwardly. Moreover, she had an inherent sense of modesty that rebelled against the idea of relieving herself in a public space, where the walls might be thin and any sound could betray her to strangers outside. In her heart, it wasn't just about the physical discomfort but the vulnerability and loss of dignity she associated with using such a rudimentary facility. The clash between her upbringing and the stark reality of commoner life in this respect was a challenge she found difficult to surmount. As the night wore on and the brews took effect, Jasmine's natural vivacity was magnified tenfold by her inebriation. She became the life of the party, engaging in boisterous games of darts, attempting to sing along with the tavern's bard (though often getting the lyrics humorously wrong), and even challenging some of the brawny patrons to arm wrestling – much to everyone's delight. Every so often, she'd throw her head back in uproarious laughter, her slender frame shaking with mirth, completely engrossed in the world of merriment she had become a part of. Jasmine danced on the tables, her makeshift peasant dress twirling around her, as the patrons clapped and cheered her on. She shared tales – some real, some exaggerated – of her 'life' as a peasant, drawing roars of laughter and encouraging others to share their own stories. Magdalene, on the other hand, was growing increasingly anxious. Each of Jasmine's antics drew more attention, making it harder for Magdalene to pull her friend away discreetly. She tried tugging at Jasmine's sleeve, whispering urgently in her ear, and even attempting to pull her off the table, but Jasmine, lost in her drunken revelry, brushed her off each time, laughing and urging Magdalene to join in the fun. All the while, the pressure in Magdalene's bladder grew unbearable. The constant movement of the crowd, the laughter, and the rhythmic beat of the music seemed to jostle and push against her insides. She clenched her thighs together, discreetly pressing a hand against her crotch every time Jasmine wasn't looking, praying for some relief. The fear of wetting her smallclothes in the middle of the boisterous crowd, with its potential for humiliation and scandal, haunted her every moment. The damp coolness of her palm against the fabric of her dress was the only barrier holding back the dam, and with each passing moment, Magdalene felt her control slipping away. Magdalene's battle against her body was slowly becoming a losing one. As the minutes ticked by, and Jasmine became more absorbed in her drunken festivities, Magdalene's condition worsened. Despite her best efforts to control it, she felt a few traitorous drops escape, making her smallclothes damp. Each time it happened, she'd press her hand harder against herself, feeling the wetness through the fabric and the warmth of her own desperation. In a bid to distract herself, she tried to merge with the crowd, dancing to the rhythm of the music. Every twist and turn, however, only accentuated her voluptuous figure, drawing eyes to her generous hips and bosom. With each movement, her body seemed to rebel further, making her leak more. The dance became a writhing motion of need, with Magdalene jamming her hand deep between her legs, trying to stave off the impending disaster. Hoping to catch Jasmine's attention, she sent desperate glances her way, trying to signal the urgency of their departure. But Jasmine was in a world of her own. In her drunken state, she became bolder and more flirtatious. Giggling and swaying, she teasingly pulled at the neckline of her dress, lowering it just enough to bare her chest to the entranced crowd. Her small, perky breasts were now on display, the nipples pert and rosy from the cool air of the tavern and the flush of alcohol. The reaction was instantaneous. Whistles, cheers, and shouts filled the air. The commoners, men and women alike, clapped and sang louder, egging on the 'peasant girl' who was so unabashedly flaunting her assets. Amidst the chaotic revelry, Magdalene felt more isolated than ever, her own body betraying her and her friend lost to the intoxication of the moment. The weight of her situation pressed down on her, even as the pressure within threatened to break free. As minutes turned to hours, Magdalene's face grew redder and redder. The princess was too engrossed in her merry escapades to notice her friend's discomfort. The sensation of a bursting bladder mixed with the beer's warmth became too much. Magdalene's situation was dire. Every laugh, every clap, and every beat of the music only accentuated her body's demand for relief. The repeated warm trickles into her smallclothes were cruel reminders that she was on the brink of a full-blown accident. A humiliating realization dawned on her – she would surely wet herself if she waited any longer. Pushing past her ingrained distaste and fears, she made a split-second decision. She needed to use the commoner's privy. With hands wedged between her thighs, she navigated through the crowd, every step a dance of desperation, praying she'd make it in time. Reaching the back of the tavern where the privy was located, her heart sank. There was a line. In front of her stood a buxom townswoman, her curvaceous figure outlined by the simple fabric of her dress. The woman, hearing Magdalene's anxious shuffle, turned and took in the noblewoman's panicked appearance, her hands pressing deeply into her crotch. "You look like you're about to piss your britches, dearie," the townswoman remarked with a mixture of sympathy and amusement. Magdalene's face turned a deep shade of crimson. To have her dire predicament pointed out so crudely, especially by a commoner, was a blow to her pride. She felt the weight of her noble upbringing clash violently with her current situation. Here she was, a lady of House Ellesmere, on the verge of disgracing herself in the most undignified manner. The realization was sharp and bitter. She had ventured out to experience a night of freedom, but now, she was bound by her own body's demands and the judgmental eyes of those around her. Her noble stature, which she had always held in such high regard, seemed fragile in the face of such a basic human need. The pressure had reached its peak, and Magdalene's desperate attempts to contain it faltered. An initial hot trickle began to seep through her smallclothes, the sensation both shocking and, in a way, momentarily relieving. But that brief moment was just the precursor to a torrent she couldn't halt. The warmth rapidly spread, enveloping her inner thighs and cascading down both legs. The feeling was overwhelming, a mixture of relief, shame, and panic. As the liquid flowed, her dress, which had been a protective barrier between her and the world, now betrayed her entirely. It clung to her skin, dark patches forming and growing, highlighting the extent of her accident. The fabric, already coarse and rough, felt even more uncomfortable as it grew heavy and sodden against her skin. The tavern, with its raucous laughter and clinking glasses, seemed to fall into a brief lull. A few of the closer patrons noticed first. Eyes widened, fingers pointed, and a mixture of chuckles and gasps filled the air. Some found humor in the spectacle, their laughter echoing cruelly in Magdalene's ears. Others, perhaps recalling their own moments of vulnerability or empathizing with the lady's plight, turned their gazes away, their faces flushed with secondhand embarrassment. Magdalene, in that agonizingly long moment, felt as though she were outside of herself, watching a scene from someone else's life. The warmth that had felt so relieving just moments ago now felt like chains, binding her to the spot and to her overwhelming shame. Jasmine, in her intoxicated haze, was momentarily oblivious to the commotion around her. But as the murmur of the crowd shifted, her amber eyes followed the pointing fingers and landed on her dear friend Magdalene. It took a second for realization to dawn, her eyes widening as she took in the sight of Magdalene, dress darkened, standing in a small puddle. A hiccup escaped Jasmine, followed by an uncontrollable fit of giggles. The alcohol in her system made her initial reaction one of amusement rather than immediate sympathy. However, as her laughter subsided and the tears in Magdalene's eyes became apparent, Jasmine's demeanor changed rapidly. Stumbling slightly, Jasmine made her way over to Magdalene. The usually confident and rebellious princess was now a tipsy young woman trying to console her best friend. Slurring her words a little, she tried to comfort Magdalene. "Oh, Maggie... it's... it's okay. We've had too much fun, haven't we?" she said, attempting to make light of the situation. Wrapping an arm around Magdalene's shoulders, Jasmine pulled her close. Magdalene buried her face in Jasmine's shoulder, her tears wetting the fabric. Jasmine patted her friend's back, her own eyes misting over with a combination of sympathy and the effects of alcohol. The two women, one offering solace and the other seeking it, became the center of attention for a brief moment before the tavern's usual revelry resumed. With one arm wrapped protectively around the staggering Jasmine, Magdalene made her way out of the tavern. Her exit was swift, her head held high despite the unmistakable dark stain on her dress and the squelching of her wet shoes with every step. The cool night air hit her immediately, providing a momentary relief from the heat of her embarrassment. The streets of the town, dimly lit by lanterns, were still bustling with nighttime activity. Market vendors were closing shop, children played, and groups of revelers sang songs of merriment. As Magdalene and Jasmine made their way through the maze of cobblestone streets, the princess, fueled by her intoxicated state, began to ramble and tease. "Oh, Maggie," she slurred, her voice lilting in jest, "I told you to use the privy! Though I must say, your little accident made our disguise even more authentic!" She let out a chuckle, though there was no malice in her words, just the playful teasing of a friend. Magdalene, despite her predicament, couldn't help but smirk at Jasmine's antics. "You're drunk, Jas," she replied, tightening her grip as Jasmine nearly tripped over a loose stone. As they approached the entrance to the secret passage, Jasmine's chatter turned more introspective. "You know, Mag, tonight was wild. I never imagined our little adventure would turn out this way. But I'm glad we did it. And I'm so grateful for you. Through highs, lows, brews, and... well, accidents," she giggled again, "you're my rock." Magdalene smiled, feeling the warmth of Jasmine's words. "And you, Jas, are the wild wind that pushes me out of my comfort zone. We balance each other out." Navigating the dark, stone-clad passageway was a challenge. Jasmine's weight leaned heavily on Magdalene, their steps echoing in the silent corridor. The dampness of Magdalene's dress was a persistent discomfort, but it was overshadowed by the bond she felt with Jasmine in that moment. The night had been a testament to their enduring friendship. Emerging into the castle grounds, the two women shared a tired but contented look. They had ventured out, faced challenges, and returned with a stronger bond than ever. Despite the ups and downs, they were deeply grateful for each other's companionship and the memories they had created.
  2. From the album: Jailor Eckman's Hoard

    The princess was captured! Stolen away by a fierce she-dragon for reasons unknown, a true hero must step forward to save her! The kingdom shall reward this brave hero with honor and glory unparalleled! To face off with a beast most powerful in service of his country is a feat that will be recited in stories for all of time--- where'd everyone go? D-dragon? No, I meant to say "easily-dispatched, tiny lizard." Come on, guys... Ok, this might take a while... Hang tight, Princess --- we'll have you back in your seat at that tea party post-haste! You shan't miss a cup! :]
  3. This is a story I started writing quite some time ago, as an interactive book. I was actually considering releasing it on Kindle as an interactive book, back when there was a big fad for those things (the Algorithm was basically rewarding authors by recommending books where readers skip back and forth in the text a lot). This is interactive. I've written several full paths through the story, but some of them are still incomplete. And I think posting it might help to boost my motivation to keep working on it. I'll post it one chapter at a time, and give you the options that would have been at the end of the chapter. After a week, if people prefer a particular option, I will continue with that one; writing the missing chapters if necessary. If there's no response, I might continue with a random selection, but I think that might be a clue that this isn't a story people are interested in. Anyway, without further ado… Birthday Games [0] Once Upon a Time Karin sauntered down the street, arms swinging happily. It was her birthday today, and she was expecting a truly spectacular present from me. I was pretty confident she’d love it, we’d discussed what it was going to be so many times over the last three months. I’d been clever with my words, though, so she had no idea what to expect as she headed into college. There was a steady breeze, and her hair whipped back like a waving flag. Even though it was long enough to reach her shoulders, it rarely touched them, preferring to stick out in all directions. Since she’d had it dyed platinum blonde, she looked more than ever like a dandelion clock. I thought it was adorable, and now she was starting to bloom with enough confidence to take pride in her natural style; going with what worked for her, rather than following whatever style the media currently declared to be fashionable. Her arms stopped swinging when she heard a chiming sound from her bag. She was carrying two bags today. One was a medium size backpack, which she’d picked up on the way out of the house without really thinking about it. She assumed it contained her present, which in a way it did, so she wasn’t going to peek inside until she felt it was an appropriate time to open it. The sound, though, came from the purse slung over her shoulder. This was a fashionable bag, just large enough to carry a Moleskine notebook, a pair of sunglasses just in case, and other essentials like her student bus pass. Today, it contained a cell phone. It was a little smaller than the one she’d been using for the last couple of years, and a sleek lilac finish that seemed to reflect every colour of the rainbow when it caught the light at the right angle. The only breaks in the iridescent coating were a few buttons around the edge, and the screen which occupied most of one side. Right now it was showing a spiral in shifting purple hues, matching the styling of the hardware. This was a present that had taken a lot of thought, she knew. As she looked at it, wondering what to do next, words rippled into view at the centre of the swirl. « Happy Birthday Princess » The letters were bold and simple, but still gave the impression of ornate handwriting with a few subtle swooshes. Beneath them, more words appeared like handwriting, but the invisible pen always making clockwise loops around each character. « A Fantasy Game of Wish Fulfillment » « Are you ready, Princess? » The question mark developed with a huge swirl, taking up most of the screen, and Karin found her eyes following the end of the line as it looped around, and around, and around to form a second spiral almost aligned with the one in the background. She was still walking slowly as she watched, but a good deal slower than her usual breezy pace now. She didn’t even notice that she nodded as she read the question, but it seemed the new phone did. The programmers were very skilled, and the special application was designed to track the movement of her eyes across the screen. As long as she played the game, she wouldn’t need to give a single thought to the controls. « Choose Your Theme, Princess » «Bliss» - «Challenge» - «Humiliation» - «Magic» Her eyes danced across the labels, each emblazoned on a pastel pink diamond with its own spirals mirroring the background of the whole screen. She glanced at all the options, of course, but this time the game was watching how long her eyes lingered on each, her gaze flickering back and forth between two or three favourites before returning to the centre of the spiral. She turned left onto Charter Street, a quiet tree-lined avenue. She’d walked this route often enough that she didn’t pay attention to the landmarks on a normal day, whether she was concerned with talking on the phone, speculating about what I was going to surprise her with today, or composing a mental rough draft of one of her papers for college. Staring at the phone wasn’t any more distraction, and there was nobody else around at this time of day. This shortcut wasn’t on the way to college for students coming from the low-rent accommodations most of them were limited to, so depending on the time of her first lecture she would often have the whole walk to herself. « Thank you for your choice, Princess » She blinked in surprise, wondering when she’d even made a choice. [2] (In this case, I'm not offering the choice because all the chapters I've already written go in the same direction; although I might do a second book if I have any ideas for the others) The swirling, nebulous text faded away and a picture slid on from the side of the screen. It was clearly Karin, drawn in an anime style by an artist who knew how to represent just how attractive she was. It left no doubt that her small stature, wild hair, and almond eyes combined to create a stunningly beautiful figure. She knew right away that this present had been programmed from scratch just for her; if there had been any doubt in her mind before. The caption at the top of the screen said ‘magic’, and the picture beneath split into two. Karin dressed as a wizard, with a flowing but somehow revealing robe and a pointed hat, stared in rivalry at Karin with a tiny dress of pink gossamer and glittering fairy wings. [3] Submissive Her eyes darted right as the two versions separated, and the wizard quickly vanished from the screen. That was one choice I hadn’t been able to guess which she would go for, so I had given my full attention to both scripts. The next question was in the same style. At the top of the screen was a caption, ‘Humiliation’, and below it the fairy Karin divided into two different images. One, however, had her fairy dress trimmed down to the absolute minimum required by decency, flesh on show in a display you wouldn’t normally associate with a fairy. The other seemed almost like her natural self, but maybe more innocent and childlike. A naïve young fairy, sitting on the ground amid a scattering of broken plates. Both options this time were blushing heavily, and it didn’t take much thought to work out what the game was asking. She must have chosen humiliation from the first menu, and now the game wanted to know if she would rather have the main character in her story humiliated as a slut, or as a klutz. She blushed for a second as she thought of all the things that could happen, with either option. She wasn’t sure if the game was going to end up humiliating the character on screen, who looked so much like her, or if the magic would extend outside the game somehow to embarrass her for real. But either way, the thought of the possible shame made her blush as vividly as either of the fairy princesses on the screen. [4] Clumsy Then the slut fairy vanished, and the klutz shifted to the centre of the screen. That was a surprise to her, and to me as well when the app notified me of her choice. Karin loved being made to act like a slut, showing off her body or casually flirting in ways she’d never have the nerve for if she could choose. She’d told me many times over the last six months that it was one of her favourite things about being in a relationship with a master hypnotist. Today, it seemed, she wanted to try something a little different. The image on screen faded again, broken crockery vanishing and the fairy’s clothes becoming less rumpled as she got to her feet. Then there was a wand in her hand, and she smiled the smile of the truly oblivious. “Hello!” the fairy spoke, and her voice came through Karin’s bluetooth earpiece as well as subtitles on the screen. Karin was smart enough to recognise her own voice put through a few digital filters, but didn’t think to ask how we’d got the original recordings without her remembering. “My name’s Birthday, and my job is granting people’s wishes when they really deserve it! Today I’m going to tell you a story about when I gave a princess a very special wish, but it didn’t quite go like I hoped. Oh, I know!” A light bulb popped up above the fairy’s head, and Karin couldn’t help giggling at the slightly cheesy theatrics. She couldn’t wait to see how this was going to go, and automatically found herself looking around to make sure she was alone. She noticed two things then. First, that the game on this mysterious phone seemed to pause when she looked away. This confirmed her guess that it was watching her eye movements, a new control method that our friend Donald had been talking about for some time. He was hoping this was the innovation in user interface design that would make him a fortune, and from how naturally it had read her preferences so far, Karin had to admit that maybe he was on to something. The second thing she noticed was the large clock on St Bart’s church tower at the end of the avenue. She was more than an hour early for her first lecture, presumably having set her alarm for the wrong time in her excitement the night before. That meant she could afford to take a walk around the park, the site of the old Freeman’s Quarry. “Why don’t we act it out?” the fairy continued as soon as Karin looked back at the screen, “I’ll play the fairy, Birthday, and you can play Princess Karin! Have you got time to have some fun?” Karin nodded, but this time the game wasn’t waiting for an answer; it already knew she had time, and the question was just a formality. “This story happened on the Princess’s most special birthday, her coming of age day. This is something that happens to Princesses when they get to a certain age, when they’re … umm … how old is it?” A selection of ages appeared on the screen, numbers from 14 to 21 in the same style as the options from the first menu. Karin figured that this story would be most interesting if the character had just enough youthful naïvete, but was old enough to be corrupted by whatever kind of sexy shenanigans I had envisioned. Her eyes wavered back and forth between the «16» and «18» bubbles, and when the bubbles popped she found that she had no idea which one her eyes might have darted to first. But she knew for sure that this year was her special birthday, and the whole kingdom would be celebrating as the princess turned… What age did she choose? (if people have preferences, let me know. And if there's anything else you'd like to see, let me know – it's never too late to make adjustments. I think her initial age doesn't have that much direct effect on the story, but I'm open to new ideas) Thanks for reading so far 🙂
  4. In the scorching heat of the Mushroom Kingdom on the hottest day of the year, Princess Peach Toadstool found herself in an unfortunate predicament. As she entered a room in her castle, the door slammed shut behind her, trapping her inside. To her dismay, she realized that the room was unbearably hot, with no means of escape. She remembered getting up in the morning of the hottest day of the year, feeling so hot at a ridiculously early hour in the morning, she thought the AC was malfunctioning. She got up out of her bed, removed her sweat-soaked 1990 Milli Vanilli T-shirt and TriForce pajama pants, tossed them in her laundry basket, leaving behind a small trail of sweat on the hardwood she then had dried by rubbing her socks on them. Her room was an ugly mess, but it’s not like she had time to clean it herself with a Kingdom to rule and protect. She dressed herself neatly in her summer dress, which she would normally use for tennis and golf, and walked over to the thermostat. 71, it said. “Well, that’s not good enough.” She grumbled. “It feels 10 degrees hotter in here. Usually, she was very happy-go-lucky and a delight to be around, but in this heat, it’s hard for even the most saintly of people to keep from becoming even a slight jerk sometimes. She almost regretted holding the big weekly castle barbecue today of all days. Mario, Luigi, her girlfriend Daisy, and every one of the Toads who worked at the castle had been invited. The more people in this large building, the hotter it would get, she thought to herself. Hoping the air would feel a little cooler outdoors, she made her way through the castle corridors, greeting good morning to all the Toads she passed, and finally walked out of the large wooden door. There was a slight wind, but otherwise probably sweatier than before. Disappointed, she walked back into the castle foyer. Tables with trays stacked with food sat in front of the large upper staircases, then, there were empty long tables with foldable chairs for people to sit around and talk. In 3 hours, the event would start and everyone would being arriving, and she would have to take charge. She breathed deeply and went into the kitchen for some of her favorite peaches. After helping herself, she went into the fridge for the coldest bottle of water she could find and chugged it down like her life depended on it. Just to make sure she kept hydrated, she chugged down another. And then another. Finally, knowing she probably wouldn’t have time or space to eat during the event, she went into the foyer to prepare herself a cheeseburger. She grabbed a paper plate and a white bun, then used a metal tong to grab one of the brown meat Patties with yellow American cheese on it, and placed it neatly on the bottom bun before squirting a bottle of ketchup gently on it. Suddenly, she froze as she was struck by an idea. She was a little too stressed. A little too hungry. One burger wouldn’t do it, but she didn’t want to be caught carrying two burgers for herself, unless it was for someone else. That was too much to eat in one sitting and it would take too long for her to continue her duties, unless it was a double cheeseburger. “Of course!” She thought to herself. “I always have a double cheeseburger before a match during my tennis season. Gives me something to work off.” She turned her head cautiously, left and right, her heart pulsating, making sure nobody took notice. In a careful haste, but not too quick as to drop the patty on accident, she grabbed another bun, and then took another patty with her tong and placed it on top of the unoccupied bottom bun she just grabbed. Next, she removed the top bun to place the newly crafted burger on top, leaving behind one unused top bun. Then, she sprayed a bit of mustard on it. Embarrassed to eat in the center of the foyer with all the Toads working tirelessly, as well as her uncharacteristically large appetite on such a hot day, she went to find a more private room to eat in. Then, she remembered she had a fire-proof panic room ready in case Bowser were to break into the castle, to protect the Toads so they wouldn’t be harmed if she were to be taken hostage. She turned the knob and pushed the door open and walked into the room, carefully balancing her paper plate on one hand, the sole top bun slice barely staying on. There was a square table in the center with some chairs and board games to pass the time. She moved the board games aside, placed her plate on the table, and sat down comfortably. Then, she realized the door was still open. Desperate for a little privacy, she walked gently back over to the door and firmly closed it, taking no notice of the sound of a lock latching itself, then made her way back over and seated herself comfortably back in the chair. She breathed deeply through her nose and out through her mouth in a sigh of temporary relief. Alone in a quiet room with her thoughts, which was very rare for someone busy as her. She quickly shoved the unused top bun slice into her mouth and chewed until it was good enough to swallow, then gulped it down. Now that her appetizer-to-be was over and done with, she gently but firmly pressed down on her double cheeseburger so it could have a slightly better chance of fitting in her mouth, but gently so that none of the juices would squirt out. Finally, she grabbed the burger firmly with her small hands, twisting the bun ensuring the ketchup would stay on the bun and not fall out, and took the biggest bite she could. She sank her teeth hard into it, as the meat was a bit hard and crispy, but deliciously seasoned. The flavors dancing in her mouth as she chewed her food. She held her gnaw tight and carefully ripped the piece of her burger away with her teeth. She closed her eyes, savoring each bite, as the worries of ruling temporarily faded away. The burger was a simple pleasure, a reminder that even princesses deserved to indulge in the occasional guilty pleasure. As she continued to eat, a small smile played on her lips, and her heart felt light. Princess Peach's regal demeanor momentarily forgotten, she devoured the dual-layered burger with gusto, relishing every mouthful. Her uncharacteristic display of appetite echoing through her delightful moans. Then, some ketchup fell on her nice dress, and her heat-induced frustration returned, her joy once again being eclipsed by her stresses. She grunted, realizing, in her haste, she forgot to bring a napkin and maybe some more water to wash her early lunch down with. She got back up in a haste, hoping her stain wasn’t permanent, and pulled on the door. To her shock, the knob refused to twist, and the door remained tightly shut. Thinking it was merely stuck, she twisted the round golden knob harder opposite the crack and pulled with more strength. Nothing. She felt herself start to panic as the heat in the room started to increase, the room’s AC’s cooling settings failing to subdue the summer heat. As the temperature rose, Peach's frustration grew. Beads of sweat formed on her forehead, trickling down her face. She wiped her face, breathing heavily, and approached the door once more, her anger fueling her determination to break free. With a forceful grip, she grabbed the doorknob and pulled with all her might, hoping to pry it open. But the door remained stubbornly locked, refusing to yield to her efforts. The perspiring princess’s frustration turned into anger, her face flushed with exertion and the heat of the room. She raised her right fist and pounded on the door with every ounce of her strength, hoping someone would hear. She’d call out for someone, but she was much too embarrassed at her situation to let them know who it was in this situation, and didn’t want to startle anyone with her heat-induced anger. She tugged at the door repeatedly, her muscles straining, her typically cute happy face reddening like a plum, her pearl white teeth gritting, sky blue eyes straining but it seemed as if it was mocking her, refusing to budge. As the heat intensified, Peach's pink clothes clung to her body, drenched in sweat. Her hair stuck to her forehead, and her breathing became heavy. Despite the discomfort, she refused to give up. She continued to pull on the door, her determination unwavering. With each unsuccessful attempt, Peach's anger grew, and bottling up her uncharacteristic negativity didn’t help matters. She shouted in frustration, her voice echoing through the room. The heat seemed to amplify her emotions, intensifying her resolve to escape. She refused to let the oppressive heat and locked door defeat her. As Princess Peach's frustration reached its peak, she took a step back, her chest heaving with exhaustion. Beads of sweat dripped from her brow, her face a mix of determination and frustration. She knew she had to find another way out, even if it meant enduring the sweltering heat a little longer, but this room didn’t have any windows, and there weren’t any vents big enough to hold her. Her phone was low on battery and there was no reception. She ran up and furiously began pulling and pushing against the door handle, hoping to maybe force it open. Maybe someone would finally hear and take notice. Perhaps a Toad who needed a bathroom break. Speaking of bathrooms, she thought to herself, she hadn’t gone all day, and she had a lot of water this morning. She grunted loudly with every failed budge, until finally, her full bladder, without warning, began relieving itself of all its retention. Her natural liquid waste gusted out in a hissing geyser, hitting the ground below it and creating an ocean of her urine, what became of all the water she drank to keep her cool in the hottest days of summer. Peach was embarrassed, but held close to the door, tugging and pulling hardest she could, the door quaking loudly in response, hoping, at least, that the urine would leak out and someone would finally take notice. Finally, all the urine drained, Peach gave three more heavy pulls before keeling over, panting heavily. Finally, she noticed a small screen with fingerprints. She remembered this panic room wouldn’t open without her or a guard Toad’s fingerprint. Embarrassed, and no longer hoping someone would notice her, she pushed her finger on said screen and the door creaked forward, almost magically. She walked out, almost running her way back to her room, threw off her soaked summer dress, and changed into one of her many duplicate summer dresses. It was her favorite of the season after all. She made her way back to the foyer, never speaking of what had happened in the panic room.
  5. Version 1.0.0

    597 downloads

    Support the developers here. The developer, LEAK, seems to be focused on omorashi contents. I suppose they started the development of this game quite early, because this game, published in 2020, still uses RPG VX Ace... And so you need RPG VX Ace RTP to run this game. This is a huge project based on an old engine which got translated by a newbie translator using a tricky method and a buggy toolkit, soooo expect errors and bugs here and there, lol. Please give me feedbacks in comment section if you encounter some. FullPatch.7z
    Free
  6. "How could it have come to this?!" Zelda thought to herself as she raced down the corridors of her castle. It had been a quick and decisive defeat for the Hyrulean forces guarding the castle's outer defenses. An army of these vile twilight beasts had suddenly appeared out of nowhere, and quickly overran the walls, taking the Soldiers by surprise. After the walls fell, the courtyard quickly followed suit, now the Twilight forces were surrounding the inner keep, it was only going to be a matter of time before they broke in. As the Princess, it was now up to Zelda to defend her people, and protect the realm of Hyrule. But how? In a matter of hours, her army had been crushed, and her castle all but toppled. The situation seemed hopeless. Zelda could already feel the fear building in the back of her mind as she stopped for a moment to catch her breath. She leaned against the cold stone walls of the castle corridor, and gasped for air. While recovering, Zelda became aware of another urgent situation...she needed to pee! The assault on the castle began without warning, thus granting no chances for a restroom break. "We must keep moving, Your Grace!" the royal guard Captain shouted, "We have to get you to the final protective line before the keep doors fall!" This jolted Zelda back into reality, she quickly pushed the thoughts of her full bladder to the back of her mind and pressed onward through the next set of doors. The guards barred the doors behind them. After some more breathless running, Zelda and her guard escort finally reached the throne room, the last line of defense. While running, they had heard many horrible noises from down below, it was apparent that the keep doors had fallen, and the Twilight forces were working their way through the remaining Hyrulean ranks. But now...now all was quiet. Zelda peered towards the large throne room doorway anxiously, a feeling of despair settling into the pit if her stomach. The calm before the storm truly was the worst. The dread sat heavy in the air, it could almost be physically felt. As she waited for the inevitable final assault, Zelda had nothing to draw her mind away from her desperate need to use the toilet, it was becoming painful now, as it had been hours since she was last able to relieve herself. Zelda wanted to sit down upon the throne, to relieve some pressure, but the nearness of the upcoming battle made her too anxious to do so. Instead, Zelda merely crossed her legs while standing, pressing her thighs together. She hoped her predicament wasn't noticable since everything was being covered by her white dress anyway, and her Soldiers were all transfixed on the doorway. At this point, Zelda did not know what to hope for, she was so desperate for relief, but there was no chance of that in their current circumstances, something had to change, and the only way for that to change would be the inevitable storming of the throne room. The chances that the few remaining Soldiers would be victorious against the onslaught were slim to none, and Zelda knew it. So, as desperately as she needed to pee, she also desperately wished to stall against the attack upon the throne room. "I-I can't hold this any longer." Zelda thought to herself as her knees began to buckle. "N-no! I can hold on! I am the Princess of Hyrule, and I will not have the disgrace of peeing myself added to my defeat! I cannot let myself be remembered as the Princess who cowered in fear and shame in her last moments..." 'Her last moments...' the words sounded so surreal, as she turned them over in her mind. It had not yet dawned on Zelda that these truly could be her last moments, she may very well be waiting for her death. The thought of this brought even more fear to her mind. Not cowardly or irrational fear, but true black fear, despair.... This made Zelda's knees buckle even more, and her urethra start to lose control for a brief moment. A very small amount of urine escaped, creating a tiny wet patch in Zelda's white, silky panties, she let out a quiet, but audible moan at this. Fighting with every fiber if her body, Zelda quickly regained her control and composure. Suddenly, Zelda's ears were filled with a loud hiss as black fog poured into the room and started to engulf the Soldiers' palisades. The room again fell silent as the Soldiers braced themselves. Again, the silence was shattered as the fiendish Twilight beasts scuttled out of the shadows and towards the Soldiers. They were large creatures, yet their movements made little noise, and resembled those of a cockroach scurrying towards a pile of refuse. The battle was over as soon as it started. The shadow beasts moved with an unnatural speed and overwhelmed the Soldiers. And that's when she finally saw him...Zant. He was the Twilight King, or something of that nature, Zelda didn't know what exactly he called himself, she knew almost nothing about her enemy. Yet, here he was, an enemy she did not know even existed a day ago was now in her throne room, marching towards her, with the bodies of her slain Soldiers scattered around them. Zelda gulped hard. "It is time for you to choose, surrender or die..." Zant said. "Oh yes, a question for all the land and people of Hyrule.... Life or death?!" Only two of Zelda's guards now remained, standing to her right and left. They both looked at her, hinging upon her answer. The fear and the hopelessness of the situation overtook Zelda at this moment and made her muscles completely release. She stood there quivering from the strain of trying not to lose control, but it was far too late. Hot pee was soaking through her panties and cascading down her legs, drenching her stockings and filling her boots. The sound was quite audible, and the puddle forming beneath her was visible to both her guards and to Zant. Zelda's face had gone white, she choked on her words and could not speak. All Zelda could do was merely drop her sword to the floor in defeat, the sword hit the floor with a clank and a splash as it landed in her pee puddle. Surrender was the only way that she and her subjects could survive. She had already disgraced herself in battle, there was no need to sacrifice more lives for the sake of pride. Written by: High Meme-Overlord
  7. From the album: MLP and EqG wetting and messing edits

    Twilight Sparkle was so nervous about having to play soccer against Rainbow Dash that she peed in her dress again. But that didn’t put Rainbow off from playing her and becoming friends with her.
  8. From the album: MLP and EqG wetting and messing edits

    Twilight got a little too nervous trying to talk to Flash Sentry, and peed herself. A lot, she must have really needed to go. She blushed beet red out of embarrassment and ran to the bathroom to clean up (the girls’ bathroom this time), her boots squishing with each step. But he didn’t seem to mind. If anything it made him like her more. Twi had to stay in her wet skirt and underwear until they dried. Of course Fluttershy was sympathetic.
  9. The Dark Wolf

    celestia 2

    From the album: MLP and EqG wetting and messing edits

    Princess Celestia peed in her swim shorts. But they’re meant to get wet anyway so why bother? (Alternately, you could see it as a bikini if you want, I did my best trying to interpret which her swimsuit from Between Dark and Dawn is and draw it here but it could be seen either way)
  10. The Dark Wolf

    celestia 1

    From the album: MLP and EqG wetting and messing edits

    Princess Celestia was having so much fun playing sports that she didn’t take a bathroom break even when she had to pee pretty badly from all the water she drank to stay hydrated, and she ended up peeing herself. She was a little embarrassed but not overly so, and she was able to get over it pretty quickly. Even tell Twilight about it when the same thing happened to her.
  11. From the album: MLP and EqG wetting and messing edits

    While watching the Buckball game with Celestia, Twilight wore a sporty outfit for the occasion even though she wasn’t playing. She had to pee really badly but didn’t want to miss anything, and ended up peeing herself. She was a little shocked and slightly embarrassed, but not overly so, and sat in her puddle until the end. Celestia didn’t mind, of course, besides, even she’s wet herself on occasion and laughed about it.
  12. That's a really extraordinary dress you have on, it'll be a shame if it's ruined. Thanks to Omorashi Jones for the art
  13. 2 minutes would've changed everything. Thanks to Mttbsmn for the art

    © Furaffinity.net

  14. Let's just say Sandbar lost a bet and now he has to drink some of Smolder's pee. Thanks to Frist for the art

    © Furaffinity.net

  15. Version 1.0.3

    500 downloads

    *Warning! Nudity!* A Princess from the kingdom of Urinalia travels to Japan to both learn Japanese culture and spread a bit of her own...
    Free
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