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Found 17 results

  1. From the album: Spectre’s GMod Album

    Selina was bursting. But before she could unzip her suit, her bladder gave in, causing her costume to be flooded in a pool of her urine. Her legs and crotch are met with a rather warm sensation, but it's soon followed by the chilling wind of the night. Thankfully her latex outfit is already a dark black, so not much wetness will show in the night. But now her body won't stop shivering from the cold. This isn't the first time an accident like this has happened to her, and it definitely won't be the last. But atleast this time nobody saw it happen.

    © DC Comics

  2. From the album: Spectre’s GMod Album

    These superhero costumes are really hard to take off. I don’t blame her for having an accident.

    © Spider-Man

  3. From the album: Spectre’s GMod Album

    Another old, unreleased pic. Just figured I might aswell share it rather than letting it become lost media lmao

    © Teen Titans (She's legal tho)

  4. You can blame Invincible for getting me into superhero stuff. So I decided to come up with a few of my own and make them crap their pants. And I'd like to thank the one and only Leaky Panties for making so much fantastic art for this story! Additionally, credit for the costume designs goes to Leaky, as well. Hope you guys enjoy! Sally Hayes had no idea what was going on. Or rather, she had a pretty decent idea, but the adrenaline and terror choked up her senses, and turned a lot of it into a big blur. People, guns, shooting, screaming. She had the pieces, but beyond that was chaos to her at the moment. They hadn’t seen her, yet. She knew that much. Deep breaths, focus. People were attacking the market, she knew that. They were shooting, but Sally couldn’t see any bodies, so it must’ve been warning shots. People were on the ground, but not slumped over, on their knees, with their hands up. She’d seen three gunmen, and they had mean-looking rifles. They wore uniforms, and she guessed that they must’ve belonged to the New World terrorists, the ones all over the news. One of them only had a handgun, but could shoot fire out of his hands; he was a super. And twenty-two year-old Sally Hayes was hiding behind a shelf, trying to choose which one of many impulses to listen to. Currently, it was tied between giving herself up and surrendering; trying to run; or just wetting herself and fainting. Thinking about it, she supposed that fainting and then wetting herself was also on the table. Voices sounded out, almost clear enough for her to make out. She realized it had gotten very quiet. The hostages had been told to shut up, she hoped. There were lights outside, flashing red and blue. Voices from outside, clashing with the ones inside. But they had hostages, the police would be little help. She dared to poke out from her hiding spot again, and saw that one of the terrorists had been sent to scour the building for any more potential hostages. Like her. She hid down low once again, covering her mouth with her hand. Footsteps got close while the voices continued to argue and shout. She heard a whimper, and thought it had come from her own mouth, but it was slightly distant. The footsteps heard it, too. “Come out!” Hissed an angry man’s voice. More whimpers answered him. “Come out!” He commanded, and Sally could hear the sounds of a scuffle. She looked out once again, seeing a violent-looking man grabbing a woman by her arm and trying to drag her out of her space between two aisles. She writhed in his grip, finally slithering her arm out of his hand, and falling onto the floor, landing on her rear. “Looks like we’re about to have our first example, huh?” He growled, retrieving his rifle and pointing it at the woman. She froze, stock still, as a pool of urine enveloped her butt and spread out around her. “There you go, see? Much simpler to be scared and do what you’re told, isn’t it?” But despite her will to fight clearly being broken, he wasn’t done. He turned his gun around, and prepared to smash its stock into her. He could well have still planned to kill her. And at that moment, all of Sally’s careful observation and attempts to think went out the window. Suddenly, she knew only a few things. She was Sally Hayes, a twenty-two year-old woman with dark skin and black hair. She was wearing a nice pink shirt with a brown leather jacket, and some comfortable baggy jeans. She was somewhat athletic, and probably stronger than the average person, but her physicality wasn’t anything too impressive. She worked as a saleswoman and had no combat experience, and yet she was diving forward to tackle an armed terrorist. And she was going to die. She landed on his back, and he stumbled forward, almost toppling. She didn’t quite know where to go from there, so she tried to wrap her arm around his neck, like she’d seen on TV. He didn’t seem to be getting choked out, but he was pissed off. He reached back and struck at her wildly, trying to throw her from his back. She held on with all her might. After a lot of twisting and grappling, he finally managed to jam his elbow into her ribs, knocking her back, and away from him. With the speed and precision of a practiced killer, he turned, readied his weapon, aimed squarely between her eyes, and fired. As he’d gone through these motions, Sally had been holding out her hands, preparing to scream. As he fired, she closed her eyes, feeling a cold, iron-like weight of fear in her stomach. After a few seconds, she wondered why the afterlife felt so normal, only to hear two more gunshots. She finally opened her eyes, and wasn’t certain what to make of what she saw. In front of her, there were little ripples in the air, with bullets floating in the middle of them. They’d been stopped mid-air. She thought it must’ve been the miraculously timely work of a superhero, but the gunner was confused as well. She knew, then, that she had been the one to stop the bullets. The adrenaline returned, expanding her focus. Unfortunately for her, that meant that she finally noticed that the iron-like weight in her stomach had begun filling her panties. Her underwear grew tight as it was pushed and stretched by her mess, then began to sag down, having ample room inside of her baggy jeans. The generous amount of fabric made it so her large soiling wasn’t obvious, but there was something shameful about knowing just how large the hidden accident in her pants was. Despite the humiliation she was sure to feel if she survived, she tried to focus on the mortal danger she was in. Something had begun to click inside of her. She didn’t know how she knew to do it, but she flicked her wrists and the magical wall in front of her launched forward. It slammed into the gunman like a truck, flinging him backwards. Her instincts, continuing to awaken to this new sensation, propelled her forward. Extending one hand, she made a beckoning gesture with the other. The rifle flew to her open hand. That was as far as her power got her, though, leaving her to figure out the next step for herself. She didn’t want to kill anyone, even if they probably had it coming, so she just bashed him over the head with the weapon while he was still recovering from the psychic blast. He went out like a light. Then there were more gunshots, and the aisle between her and the other terrorists was perforated with a dozen bullet holes. Cringing in fear once again, she held out her hands to form a protective barrier. She’d fully voided her bowels the first time, so at least she didn’t ruin her underwear any further. Once again, her instincts had served her well, as about seven bullets that would’ve been her end were embedded in her psychic barrier. Thank you, magical brain, she thought. The onslaught of gunfire must’ve given the forces outside all the motivation they needed to make their move. Silhouettes outside the entrance grew closer, the shouting grew louder. Glass shattered. And then, stone shattered? Peering over the aisle, Sally beheld the imposing form of a superhero, freshly crashed through the roof of the building. Dizzy, a famous hero who’d been saving the day everywhere for a few years, had arrived. Tall, muscular, light skin, and short, golden, windblown hair. Her hero outfit was simple, a forest green bodysuit with some angular, orange designs. The most complex part of her outfit was the vast array of cuts, burns, and damage that Dizzy refused to get patched up. “Oh, they are fucked,” Sally muttered involuntarily. Dizzy was a powerful and renowned hero. It must’ve been a slow day for her to be available to respond to a threat of only three gunmen. The leader, the super who could shoot fire, took his shot. A large burst of fire washed over the superhero. Terrifyingly, her silhouette was still visible within the flame, unflinching and unmoving. When the inferno came to an end, Dizzy was still there, not even lightly charred. “My turn,” she said with a smirk, and faster than an eye-blink, she’d charged forward and delivered a bone-shattering punch to the New World terrorist. He slammed into the wall, and did not move. But the other gunner had not been idle. She held her weapon, a small submachine gun, against the head of a young man. “Back off, hero!” She barked. The good guys had once again been stalled by hostage taking. Only… Sally willed her instincts to tell her something, give her some clue of how she could help. Her mind raced, and finally, she decided to try something. Focusing on the weapon, she held out her hand, palm facing up. Then, in a swift motion, shot her hand upwards. She smiled exuberantly when the gun did as it was told, and rocketed into the air, colliding with the ceiling. Disarmed and in disbelief, the terrorist released her grip on her hostage, and stumbled backwards as Dizzy approached, cracking her knuckles. The gunner’s black pants became host to a sheen of wetness as she piddled herself in fear. Dizzy still taught her a lesson or two. --- Sirens wailed, a helicopter hovered overhead, police and EMTs swarmed the building, apprehending the terrorists and relieving the hostages. Some news crews had arrived, and were interviewing the people involved. Still dazed and in shock, Sally wasn’t quite sure how she’d wound up being filmed and interviewed alongside Dizzy, but there she was. Dizzy had congratulated her for her assistance with the situation, and even called her a hero. The media was eating it up, and wanted footage of the two. Sally, however, didn’t feel like she was worthy to stand beside the likes of the legendary hero, certainly not with loaded pants. Oh dear Lord, I’m on national television and I crapped in my pants, she realized, causing her already awkward and stammering responses to grow even less coherent. Oh, please tell me no one can tell! Can they smell me? “No more questions, guys!” Dizzy called out, to the disappointment of the news crews. She put her hand on Sally’s shoulder, “I think the hero of the day is still kinda shaken, so she should get to a doctor, see if she’s hurt.” “Ah, yeah… ” Sally said. Led inside by the legendary hero, they found their way to a more secluded spot, away from all the noise outside. “Are you hurt? Like, badly?” Dizzy asked, seeming quite sincere. “Um,” Sally inspected herself, patting her own body down (though careful not to pat her butt), “No, I don’t think so.” “Good to hear. You should still get checked out, but I figured you’d like to, y’know, freshen up a bit, first.” It was then that Sally noticed the hero had led her just outside the women’s bathroom. “Oh, uh… I see… ” Dizzy practically read her mind, answering her unspoken question, “Don’t worry, you can’t see it. They just made me stand close to you, and I could, y’know, smell you.” Sally shrunk down, humiliated. “I’m sorry… ” Dizzy shrugged, “Happens to the best of us. It’s happened to tons of heroes, and it’s happened to me. Don’t sweat it.” The proud woman admitted to this without a hint of shame or embarrassment. Sally hardly believed what she’d just heard. She’d always viewed the really famous heroes as just being invincible. To think they’d get so scared that they’d ruin their costumes was wild. “Um, if I can ask you something… ?” “Shoot.” “I just found out I have a power today. What… What do you think of it?” “You did all that with a fresh power?” She sounded genuinely impressed, “Wait, why? Do you want to make something of that power?” “I dunno. I was so scared, but I just moved and… I think I liked it. Being like a hero, that is.” “You weren’t ‘like a hero,’ you were one,” Dizzy said with a smile, “And if you think you have what it takes, I’d be happy to make a pro out of you.” Sally only responded with an excited inhale and wide eyes. “Now go change your pants.” --------------- Five months later… Given the severe need for super-powered individuals in the defence of society, working with Dizzy, even as a trainee, had turned out to be pretty profitable. Sally’s old job had been nowhere near as lucrative, or fun. Her power, some type of telekinesis, was unnaturally strong, and she was a pretty quick study. In only a few weeks, Sally had learned how to handle and wield her power effectively, and had begun joining other heroes on small missions. Mostly simple stuff. Well, “simple” by superhero standards. Most people didn’t consider having guns shoved in their faces to be a simple affair. But Sally’s power made her particularly effective in stopping gunfire and disarming killers; and with the New World growing bolder every day, she was getting plenty of practice in. She’d met lots of big name superheroes, too. From the gravity-defying Flux to the lightning-blasting Thunderhead, Sally had made a few noteworthy acquaintances. For the most part, they seemed impressed with her growing mastery over her power. Although, their most universal critique was over her composure. While she’d managed to avoid having any further accidents, she never quite managed to carry herself like a hero consistently. She wasn’t the comforting, inspiring presence that people like Dizzy were, yet. But nonetheless, she was happy to take on the role of hero, even if it meant that, sometimes, like today, she just sat in the agency building, watching Dizzy face off against a supervillain on a widescreen television. The agency utilized special little drones during missions to record the events from multiple angles, providing higher quality and more versatile viewing than what the news would show the public. And, as she’d learned, frequently something would go wrong on a mission, and it would need to be fully omitted or doctored out of a news broadcast, while the drone footage was not edited at all. The villain had a power that looked like some kind of superspeed, and he’d already gotten the better of two other heroes, elevating his threat class enough that Dizzy was called in. Given that her powers included superspeed along with a variety of other super abilities, the villain was quite simply outmatched. The fight was so fast that Sally could barely even keep up with what was happening, but she was more interested in their surroundings. Flipping between the drones’ views, she finally landed on the other two heroes who had been defeated. Mercifully, they weren’t severely injured. A man who had a power that let him create large wind gusts was unconscious, and his companion, a woman who could teleport short distances, was trying to rouse him. The two had been pretty thoroughly thrashed and… yep. As Sally observed the teleporting female hero, the legs of her dark blue outfit were soaked with pee. Poor thing, she thought. In the scant few moments that she’d looked away, the fight had been settled, and Dizzy stood over the crumpled heap of the supervillain. As expected, she hadn’t even broken a sweat. Sally tried to think of something to say when her teacher returned, and inevitably asked what she’d learned from watching, when the door to the lounge swung open and a suit-wearing woman rushed inside. Andrea, a secretary with the agency, looked around the room in a panic, before settling her gaze on Sally. “Emergency!” She said, “A supervillain is wreaking havoc at Parker University!” “A- a supervillain?!” Sally asked, “I’m not permitted to go against villains yet-” “No time! Lives in danger!” The woman shouted. Despite her orders from Dizzy, Sally obediently bolted upright. Andrea had a frighteningly commanding presence. “Well, what kind of powers do they have?” If she was destined to break the rules, she might as well do her best to live through it. “We aren’t completely certain, but they appear to be able to move the earth around.” Sally nodded dutifully, “I’ll do my best.” An earth-moving power against her telekinesis should be a fairly neutral matchup, with neither side truly able to counter the other, so maybe she did have a chance after all. Donning her hero outfit, a tight, purple and white costume that exposed her legs, she departed the agency. Though strenuous, her power did enable her to fly. It was clunky and inexact, but she could essentially form a bubble around herself and fling it to her destination. While it prevented her cape from fluttering majestically in the breeze, she still thought she looked cool. Zooming through the air, she eventually spotted the university, which turned out to be rather easy as she just had to look for the only place in the city suffering from earthquakes. Her heart raced as she approached, nervousness and fear threatening to make her spill her guts up. She’d never faced off against a supervillain before. The few times one had appeared on one of her missions, Dizzy had made her stay put while she dealt with them. Sally really, really hoped they weren’t as dangerous as her teacher had made them out to be. She would find out soon enough, as she touched down at Parker University. The buildings were shaking, the earth was cracking, and all around people were panicking and trying to run. An area of destruction was moving across the campus, and she could just barely make out a vaguely humanoid shape at its epicenter. Getting as close as she dared, she cleared her throat and shouted in her steeliest voice, “Villain! Surrender now! This is your only chance!” She hoped she sounded intimidating. The living earthquake abated, and the person causing it turned to face her. It was a woman, not wearing any sort of villainous uniform, just a tanktop and a black leather skirt. Her skin was tanned, and her black hair, which hung down to her shoulders, was dyed green about halfway down. She wore sunglasses that hid her eyes completely, but even without seeing them, Sally could tell the villainess was not impressed with her. “Some advice, loser,” The villain began. She stomped her foot, and a line of earthly destruction traced its way from the sole of her shoe to a statue Sally stood next to. The base of the statue evaporated into dust, and it toppled down towards her. Using her power to get a slight boost, she jumped back, narrowly dodging the crumbling debris. She exhaled sharply, eyes wide. “... If you’re gonna pick a fight with someone,” The villain continued, “At least try not to look like you’re about to piss yourself.” Sally swept her arms, generating a wave of force that blew away the statue debris in front of her. While her arms were outstretched to her sides, she swung them forward, catapulting much of the debris at the villain. She clearly hadn’t been expecting the reprisal, and only barely managed to raise a rocky barrier that was shredded to pieces by the barrage, only just durable enough to keep her from being damaged. She panted lightly, and looked up at Sally, now seeming to take her a little more seriously. “Ironic advice,” Sally said smugly, “Since it looks like you’re about to soil yourself.” Heroes were supposed to make puns, right? “All right, freak, you had your chance to run away,” She knelt down low, and drove her fist into the ground. Multiple fractures raced through the disturbed earth, spreading out like cracking glass, but all homing in towards Sally. Her power wouldn’t be anywhere near strong enough to shield her from an attack of literal earthquake magnitude, so she had no choice but to fling herself up into the air. She looked back as she flew upwards, and saw that her old position on the ground had been obliterated, turned to dust, and then swallowed into the depths of the earth. Sally felt a short spurt of urine soak into her briefs. This girl was playing hardball. Sally began to lose altitude, and was rapidly approaching her opponent. As soon as she was pretty sure she was in range to use her power, she threw a wild swing through the air, which translated to an invisible wall of force impacting the villain, and sending her flying. Her landing zone now clear, she touched down almost elegantly, only stumbling a little. Ahead of her, the earth-shifter was getting back onto her feet. Another swipe battered her, then another. As long as Sally kept striking, her enemy wouldn’t have a chance to use her power. Or at least, she’d hoped as much. In the middle of being thrown around by unseen attacks, the villain managed to stomp her foot on the ground once again. There was no clear fault line this time, but there was an unmistakable rumble of something gliding through the ground. Sally couldn’t see it, and could only barely approximate its location by the rumbling. It was slow, and it took ages to reach her, all the while she was trying to divide her focus between the coming attack and her own series of blows. If she let up, then the villain would crush her. Her heart pounded in her ears, wondering when the earthen attack would arrive. She knew that it would be lethal if not handled properly. Her eyes darted, and concentration began to slip. At last, the earth opened up, and a massive stone spike launched forward. It was pointed at her head, and her dodge was so last second that it cut her cheek lightly as it rushed by. She shook and shivered, and her legs gave out. She fell down to her knees, and her bladder emptied itself in a hot gush. Pee saturated the crotch of her costume, then raced down her thighs. Some urine streamed directly to the ground from her pants, noisily creating a large puddle. “Are you finally dead?” The villainess asked, sounding battered and out of breath as she stepped closer to observe her handiwork. “Cause I’d really like to get on with my- Oh! Oh, ha ha ha!” She began laughing as she saw Sally, whose bladder was just about done voiding itself. “Oh my God, you actually did piss your pants!” Sally grit her teeth and glared in response. “I was just making a joke, but wow! I didn’t have to say anything, you are a joke!” She raised her foot to stomp out another attack, “Well don’t worry, dude. By the time they excavate you, no one’s gonna be able to tell how you went out.” As her foot dropped, Sally lunged forward, throwing a perfectly straight punch into the air, aimed at the woman’s midsection. The wind whistled and a tight ball of psychic power impacted her stomach, sending her staggering back. She gasped and gagged, the wind having been driven out of her body. She clutched her stomach in pain, and fell to the ground. Sally looked at her own fist in awe. In all her training, she hadn’t managed a hit like that, yet. She sure wished she knew about it before she wet herself. Speaking of, Sally tried to put all of her focus on the fight, ignoring the wet fabric clinging tightly to her butt and crotch. Her opponent seemed to be fairly incapacitated, but then again, all she had to do was smack the ground with appendage and she’d create a deadly attack. Careful so as not to crush her, Sally lifted her hands, gingerly levitating the villain. “... Fuck you… ” She muttered quietly as she was lifted, “... I win!” Her arm slumped off the side and reached the ground. Before Sally could react, she raked her fingers through the dirt. Five fault lines tore through the earth, speeding towards not Sally, but one of the campus buildings. Once they touched the structure, dirt and glass blasted through the air, it looked as though a missile had struck the building. Sally heard screams. Groaning in frustration, she flung her opponent roughly to the ground while she ran to save whoever was inside. Using her power to boost herself forward, she flew through the new opening that had been carved into the wall. The destruction was more extensive than she feared, as the foundation had been damaged. The structure creaked and moaned, threatening to collapse. Following the sounds of terror and panic, Sally found her way to a room that had been sealed off with debris. With powerful motions, like she was swimming through the air, she telekinetically cleared the rubble, revealing a party of five or so people inside. They stared wide-eyed at the miraculous appearance of a superhero, but they did not move. “Come on! Run! This way!” Sally cried to them, spurring them to action. But as they neared her, the sound of shattering stone and rending metal froze all of them in their tracks. The building was falling. She turned around, and held out her hands to conjure the sturdiest barrier that she could, but she knew it wouldn’t be enough. The massive slabs of concrete began to fall, and Sally knew she was going to be crushed, but maybe she could save one or two people. Just like before, with the man and the gun, she knew she was going to die. And just like before, her bodily control slipped. The rear of her costume tented suddenly as her bowels released. With a quiet crackle, more mess spilled out, filling up her now-very-stretched underpants. She could feel the muck covering her backside and she knew the bulge was massive. And with the fabric over her butt being white, it would stain and tint brown, leaving absolutely no question that this superheroine had completely soiled herself. But, just like before, as she closed her eyes and waited for death, nothing came. Daring to take a look. She saw that the crumbling building had been suspended in time and space. Even the little bits of dust had been frozen in mid-air. She’d actually done it. She’d contained the collapse, even if she hadn’t contained the avalanche in her briefs. With it being apparently safe, she ushered the group out of the building, her power fading as the last one made it out. The collapse resumed where it had left off, now free of potential victims. Outside, all of them were panting, and clearly not enjoying the particular odor in the air. “Are all of you okay?” Sally asked, between breaths. “I think so,” One of the people she’d rescued said, “Um, are you?” He asked, looking at her urine-soaked front. Sally was quiet for a moment, trying to keep her tears in. She was absolutely humiliated. “... Yeah.” “Thank you,” Another person intoned, trying to change the subject, “For saving us.” “I’d tell you my superhero name, but… I’d appreciate it more if you all forgot what you saw here today,” Superheroes were supposed to make jokes. Though she still wanted to cry, the slight bit of humor helped make things maybe just a bit less awkward. Besides, she actually hadn’t settled on a superhero name just yet. There was another rumble, and Sally grimaced, remembering that the villain wasn’t defeated yet. “All of you evacuate now! The villain is still active. I’ll handle them,” She didn’t wait for a reply, and she was quite eager to be away from people, so she took off. Still clutching her stomach, the earth-shifter was slowly walking towards a building at the far end of the campus. She wasn’t conjuring a storm of destruction any longer. Whatever she was after must’ve been inside, and the other devastation was just… Sally didn’t know. A show, perhaps. An outlet for frustrations. A message. Villains were crazy like that. Sally landed a short distance behind her, “We’re not done, yet,” She growled. She was trying to seem intimidating, and accordingly was being very careful not to let her backside show to the villainess. The taunting would never end if she saw that Sally had crapped her pants, too. “The fuck… ?” She breathed, still reeling from the blow to her gut, “How are you alive?!” As Sally had come to expect, the woman went for another cheap shot, stomping and sending out an inarticulate pulse throughout the ground. It rattled and cracked, and Sally lost her footing as the earth shook. Aiming as best as she could, she readied another psychic punch. The earth-shifter, meanwhile, readied an attack of her own. They both launched them simultaneously. They would collide mid-air, and the winner’s attack would follow through and hit the opponent. At least, that’s what should have happened. Instead, a green blur fell from the sky like a comet, intercepting both attacks and not even flinching. Dizzy rose from her kneeling position between the two. Fearlessly turning her back to the murderous woman, Dizzy looked at Sally, “Nice work, kid! I’ll take it from here.” Not missing her opportunity to strike while her back was turned, the villain threw a stone spike at Dizzy. It shattered like a clump of sand, and Dizzy didn’t even seem to feel it. The titanically powerful superhero turned around, and smiled. Fault lines raced to her, stones flew. The woman was throwing everything she had at the living legend, but it was to no avail. At best, she’d scratched her outfit a little. After weathering the barrage, the villain’s shoulders slumped. She was beaten, and she could tell. “How? How can you… ? It’s not fair! It isn’t fucking fair!!” Tears welled in the woman’s eyes, like she was about to throw a tantrum. “... My turn,” Dizzy uttered her catchphrase, then rocketed forward at incalculable speed. She stopped just in front of the villain, her fist just inches from her face. Piss sprayed loudly from under her leather skirt, falling to the ground in a strong stream. The stream occasionally clipped the edge of the skirt, and so droplets gathered and fell from its hem. Her bowels audibly emptied as well. The sound was somewhat wet, and matched the mess, as it stained and sagged her skimpy panties. They all sat there in silence, Dizzy being sure to let the villain’s courage completely drain out between her legs. “Give up?” She asked. The woman meekly nodded in reply. ----- “You know,” Dizzy began, as she and Sally were away from all the cameras, “They edit out stuff like you messing yourself.” Sally whirled to look at her, “They do?!” She was still wearing her wet and heavily soiled costume. “Kid, you remember months ago? I told you that this happens to us. We have a bit of an understanding with the media. They’re not supposed to make us look bad.” She poked her head out, glancing at the army of police, firetrucks, ambulances, and news vans and helicopters that had invaded the ruins of the campus in the last several minutes. Thanks to Sally’s timely arrival, there hadn’t been any casualties. “Sooo, if I was recorded during this whole thing, nobody’s gonna know that I had an accident?” “Nope. I mean, y’know, unless somebody just recorded it with like a phone or something, then- ” She looked at Sally’s once-again-distraught face and stopped herself, “But the odds of that are slim to none.” Things got quiet for a second, before Dizzy said, “Fighting Magnitude like that, though. Damn impressive for your first time against a supervillain.” “Magnitude?” “The name HQ came up with for her. Serious power level. For you to take on someone like her, I’m beginning to think I was babying you a bit too much.” “What’s gonna happen to her?” Dizzy shrugged, “Can’t imagine there’s many jails she couldn’t just bust out of. Probably have to set up some special facility for her.” “What was she after? She was gunning for the building over there.” “I asked the same thing. No one knows. The dean’s office is there, but that’s hardly a juicy target for a supervillain. It was probably something personal. Whatever the reason is, they’ll find out in interrogation.” “... Can I go change my pants, now?” Dizzy laughed, “Yeah, sure. I’ll even let you go first.” Sally giggled, then realized what she’d just said, “Wait, what? What do you mean, ‘go first’?” “Look closely,” Dizzy said as she turned her back to her student. It was hard to see if you didn’t know what you were looking for, but there was a flattened mound against her butt. “You… !” “I’ve been out since sunrise fighting the forces of evil. They made me miss the usual bathroom time. I had to go, and I sure wasn’t gonna let the bad guys win just cause of an accident. So, at some point in the day, I just let it happen.” Sally didn’t know what to say. She knew Dizzy was shameless, but this was unprecedented. No wonder she was so experienced and familiar with accidents. “I told you, in this line of work, this kinda thing is beyond your control. Best thing you can do is not let it get to you… And to try and cover it up, but that’s another lesson.”
  5. https://www.xshr.online/2021/11/ghnu-44-gishi-gishi-purun-vs-cyborg.html?m=1 Superheroine is defeated by bad guys and restrained by one of them while another holds a huge broken piece of glass to her throat and then threatens to cut her belly at which point she pees her panties very noticeably all over the floor and the bad guys (and one female) make fun of her and show her accident and her embarrassment from multiple angles. 2nd video on page. Timestamp between 21:00-22:00 beware of ads as usual on this site
  6. I found these and thought they may be of interest: https://jp.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph60e2d98d6b223 https://jp.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph60e98b8d6f1ec
  7. Hey everyone! I hope you enjoy this, my longest EVER commission for Omorashi.org, clocking in at OVER 22,000 words! If you want one commissioned for yourself, please DM me! Otherwise, enjoy! 🙂 THE MARVEL HYPNOSIS CRISIS Kamala Khan raced through the city, stretching her arms out in several punching attacks; trying to strike her nemesis. Unfortunately, Becky was fast and her plasma armour’s speed made cornering her difficult. Kamala’s fists smashed uselessly against walls, bins and one very unlucky pigeon, however, she soon spotted an opening. As her arch-nemesis fled inside a building, she activated the speed dial on her mobile. ‘Nakia, Zoe, Becky’s gone inside the building! Cut her off!’ said Kamala, preparing her body to break into the building; inflating her fists to the size of trash cans. ‘Let’s get this bitch’. Zoe’s words were immediately followed by the sound of Kamala’s fists punching through solid brick wall, as she raced inside. She was prepared for a fight, her classic superhero gear; based on her idol, Carol Danvers: A red, yellow and blue bodysuit, though her bottom half was largely red-tights and thick blue boots, yet it never dulled her enthusiasm for saving lives. Even if she didn’t look as good as Carol doing it, something Kamala had said to others at least a million times was: ‘Totally impossible, she’s perfect!’, she never stopped trying. Today, was another opportunity to prove that. Kamala’s arch-nemesis: ‘Lockdown’; though her real name was Rebecca St. Jude, had robbed a bank of several million dollars just over a month ago, using the money to fund some two-bit supervillain tech that Kamala and her friends had tracked to this abandoned apartment building. Nakia and Zoe were dressed in their tacky but enthusiastic Ms. Marvel costumes, ready to help their friend. ‘Embiggen!’ shouted Kamala, as she grew herself to be 8ft. tall; before smashing a wall that separated Lockdown from the trio of heroes. Unfortunately, they had walked right into her trap. For less than a second, Kamala, Nakia and Zoe could see they were staring at an advanced hypnosis machine; all three of them trapped within the chamber, while Becky stood at the other side of its harmful rays. She’d been playing with them the whole time and though Kamala tried to fight it, with seconds; all three heroes had been frozen. They could only stare in horror, as the ginger haired villainess approached them. Her shiny blue plasma armour glinted in the dim light, while her smile shone with evil; contemptuous malice. Even on her freckled face, it was still incredibly horrifying in its cruelty. ‘Well then. Now that I have you three under my command… let’s try some simple commands… stand on one foot!’. All three heroines instantly obliged, despite their minds screaming at them not to. ‘Zoe, spank Nakia’s ass’ said Lockdown; indulging in her petty, yet dangerous levels of power and personal hatred. Zoe’s head collided against Nakia’s bum less than one-second later, with both women internally blushing and cringing; yet Lockdown was in charge now. All they could do was try to fight, yet the effects were too powerful. ‘Nakia, run into that wall’. Immediately, Nakia began sprinting towards the far-left wall and after several seconds, crashed into it with a painful thud; falling, in pain, against the floor. Lockdown laughed cruelly. ‘Oh this is going to be fun… hmm? For you Kamala… let’s see… wet yourself’. Kamala’s eyes widened as she felt her body respond, despite every order in her brain screaming to disobey. But it was too late. Kamala found her arms and legs trembling badly, before she felt streams of hot, thick piss running down her red tights, sliding into her boots and forming a puddle around her. Lockdown’s eyes widened in shock; before she broke into laughter; the horrible kind that comes from a bully with power. ‘You’ll do anything I say… oh… OH THIS SHALL BE FUN’. THE NEXT MORNING Kamala Khan’s eyes slowly drifted open, moaning from the aches and pains in her body, as she looked around. She was in her dorm room with her friends Zoe and Nakia, both in sleeping bags at either side of her bed. Zoe was wearing a dark blue pair of pyjamas, Nakia, a green-eco-friendly pair with symbols of green-peace on it. Everything seemed normal, though Kamala felt strange. ‘How did we get here? What happened? Why can’t I remember last night?’. Feeling freaked out, Kamala looked around the room for any clues as to why her memory was gone and breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted her room’s wooden cabinet: Resting on top of a replica of Captain America’s shield were half a dozen empty vodka bottles and as her groggy mind properly woke up, she could see a bunch of glasses around the room. Kamala breathed a sigh of relief. Now she remembered what had happened: They were celebrating Lockdown’s recent imprisonment, largely thanks to their exposure of her crimes. Clearly, they had let their celebrations get too out of hand. ‘God, superheroes should not be allowed to get this drun- OW, my head’ said Kamala, moaning from the hangover; an intense splitting sensation between her eyes. ‘This is going to be a fun morning’. Over the next half hour, Zoe and Nakia were slowly coaxed back to the land of the living, a mixture of water bottles and cold flannels giving them the ability to think somewhat clearly again. ‘I can’t believe we got so wasted!’ said Nakia, shocked. ‘Honestly, this isn’t even that bad compared to what I used to do’ said Zoe. ‘I’m not proud of it anymore’ she said defensively, as Nakia gave her a judging look. ‘But frat parties are wild, so I’m kind of used to it’. ‘I swear, I am never drinking again’ said Kamala, still trying to nurse the headache from her skull. ‘Lies!’ said Nakia and Zoe simultaneously, laughing. Over the next few minutes, the girls got dressed and went their separate ways; continuing on with their normal days. However, Zoe and Nakia soon began to notice that something wasn’t right. Zoe was out shopping, looking for a new pair of crop shorts; hoping to impress Nakia, when she began to feel an uncomfortable twinge in her bladder. ‘Piss off’ she muttered; not seeing the irony, as she continued to look for new outfits. However, as time went on, she found more and more of her attention being distracted. Despite not usually struggling with her bladder, Zoe found herself swaying on her feet; doing a slight pee-pee dance behind the changing room curtains, as she changed between blue and red crop shorts, tried on different shirts and generally wondered how much she could spend on her credit card before her overdraft ran out. During this time however, her bladder let her get no peace. Now desperately crossing her legs, Zoe realised that she had badly underestimated her need to go and stumbled from the changing room, one hand down her tight blue crop shorts, trying to hold on for long enough to find the toilets. Spotting them across the food court, Zoe breathed a sigh of relief and began squirming towards them; still desperately holding herself like a little girl, as children and parents alike stared at her disapprovingly. ‘God this is so cringe!’ thought Zoe, as she reached the halfway point towards the toilets. ‘I look like a little fucking girl. Well, at least I’m nearly… no! Oh my god no! Zoe felt a burst of pee spray through her fingers, soaking the red panties underneath her crop shorts; while leaving a golf-ball sized wet spot on her shorts. Freezing still, more people turned to stare in confusion and then in shock, as they saw glistening wet patches running down the college student’s legs. Whispers, insults and laughter began to ring out across the food court, as Zoe stood; rooted to the ground, her bladder totally giving way as her face turned bright red. She tried desperately to stop but it was too late and the gold-ball sized patch on her crop shorts became a soaking fountain, spreading from the front and around her bum; as Zoe began to completely wet herself. Pee sprayed out around her in hot golden streams, soaking into her socks, trainers and gathering in a puddle, while Zoe’s body trembled; the young woman herself lost to shock and dismay. ‘I can’t believe it! How could I have an accident?! OMG, this is the worst thing ever! I’m acting like a fucking nine-year old! What is wrong with me?!’. Unseen to her, a young woman’s IPhone recorded Zoe’s public accident from among the crowd, as a devious laugh was supressed. Meanwhile, Nakia wasn’t doing much better. She and a group of college friends had been protesting outside of a Starbucks, a dozen or so of them holding placards and handing out leaflets to any passers who would listen. They were campaigning for fair-trade prices for all cocoa bean farmers who supplied the mega-bean corporation, something Nakia had been invested in ever since she had spent an evening watching a documentary about it with Zoe; crying into her shoulder for most of it. Unfortunately, it was a rainy Sunday and those who were out on the streets weren’t especially motivated to take flyers, most mumbling empty courtesies, a few throwing insults. Nakia was not thrilled at having been called a: ‘Socialist slag’ five separate times, just for insisting farmers be paid a decent wage. However, something else was troubling her even more. Since arriving, she’d had an upset stomach, cramping up at in-opportune moments and causing her to nearly double over in pain. Not wanting to leave the handful of her fellow protestors; as she was their unofficial leader, she’d fought through it but now, a new and hideously embarrassing side-effect had begun to make itself known. ‘BRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH’. Nakia groaned quietly as she felt a thick fart burst from her bottom, a thin high pitch whine in the Sunday rain, as her tightly jean-clad bum stretched from the effort of releasing such a loud, long fart. Still relatively quiet; drowned out by the ambience of the street, her fellow protestors hadn’t noticed her doing it but they were already smelling it. ‘Oh god, that’s foul, WTF!’. ‘Why does it smell like a dead rat here?’. ‘Council doesn’t give a shit about repairing the sewers, too busy taking all-expenses holidays, while we still have homeless everywhere. God, that reeks!’. Nakia blushed with embarrassment, glad no-one realised it was her but also feeling incredibly uncomfortable. ‘Come on, get it together!’ she said to herself. ‘You’re not some dickhead boy at highschool, stop letting these rip! You’re trying to help people, people who need you! Focus, deep breaths and control the butt! (Inhales) That’s it! (Exhales) I can do this (Inhales) I can keep control (Exhales) and nothing will stop m-’. ‘PPPPPPPPRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRRRSSSSSSSSSSSQQQQQQQQQQQQQQEEEEEEESSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHPPRRRRRFFFFFFFSSSSSSQQQQQQHHHHEEEESSSSSH’. Nakia’s fart was so loud and unexpected, it not only turned all of her fellow protestor’s heads instantly towards her but several people on the streets nearby, who shook their heads contemptuously at her. If that had been it, Nakia’s cheeks; burning red as they now were, might have shown enough embarrassment from that alone. However, the smell was already filling people’s noses and her friends began to gag, tears filling their eyes; simultaneously laughing and appalled, as the horrid gassy smell wafted in through their noses, almost unspeakably bad for a bum as cute, perky and small as Nakia’s. ‘Oh my god Nakia, what kind of processed shit are you eating?’. ‘That’s foul!’. ‘What the hell, can you not Nakia? I feel like I can hardly breath!’. ‘Call the Avengers, someone just let off a dirty bomb in the city!’. Nakia trembled in fear, trying to laugh off the teasing but she was utterly repulsed. Not just by the enormous fart that she had just shared with her friends but because; right now, Nakia Bahadir, a young, talented, passionate Muslim woman: Bold, creative and brave, had just completely shit herself like a pre-school child, right in front of her friends. It had started as soon as the fart came out, her anus opening up completely against her will and a thick, mushy log of shit pouring into her tight white cotton panties. A river of poo had then flooded forth, completely filling her underwear, squishing against her bum and causing small pieces to begin running down the inside of her blue jeans and down her legs. Nakia’s only saving grace was that; due to her hatred of western thongs, she wore boring thick grandma-style panties, as well as a green coat that was hanging down to her knees. Elsewise, a mountain of Nakia’s shit would have been visible under her clothes; rather than the thick, wet brown spot; hidden underneath her coat, that had turned that area of her blue jeans, dark, soggy brown. ‘You okay Nakia? You look pale…’. ‘Y-yeah, I’m fine! I-I just, n-need, bathroom. Period stuff’ she said weakly, before rushing away; her walk awkward, trying not to drop more shit down her trousers. The protests looked at each other, confused. ‘What was that about?’ asked one of them. A young woman; around their age, with dark red hair and a wicked smile, took a pamphlet from one of their hands, giggling. ‘Oh don’t worry about your friend… I’m sure she’ll be just fine’. Nakia practically fell into the restaurant toilet, bolting the cubicle door behind her and breathing heavily for several seconds trying to calm her racing heart. ‘Oh my god, I just shit myself, again! What the hell is going on today?’. Nakia slowly; groaning with disgust, pulled down her filthy jeans off her legs and was horrified at the mess: Dirty, brown shit; with an absolutely foul stench of homemade egg and cress sandwiches, was covering her underclothes and her bum felt like she might as well be wearing an overfilled diaper: So utterly clogged and filthy were her panties. Pouring what shit she could from them and her jeans into the toilet, she managed to clean the worst smearing off her legs with the help of some tissues and soap in her green backpack; though she’d need at least scolding showers before she felt truly clean again. The panties; despite her best efforts, were pretty much-a-write off, so she placed them into a side pouch of her backpack, along with a thick red pair from this morning, which had several skid-marks and pee stains in them, causing Nakia to roll her eyes at the sight. Having an accident while walking to the protest had been bad enough, wearing the spare-set of panties from the clothes she kept in her backpack in case a friend was raped was worse; yet to then have another accident?! ‘I must be stressing out too much!’ thought Nakia, though she didn’t entirely believe it. ‘Guess I need to take things easier for a while. Maybe stick to online activism for a bit. I’ll worry about that later though…’. Nakia exited the bathroom, relieved no-one had entered while she cleaned herself up; though unbeknownst to her, Becky had caught the entire thing on tape via a hidden camera in the ventilation shaft. Walking out of the restaurant, she began to make her way home; determined to have a shower and put this weird day behind her. However, around halfway there, Nakia grimaced as she felt her tummy rumbling in a familiar and frightening way. ‘Oh no! Not again!’. Kamala by contrast was going through changes of her own; however, the way she responded was quite different. The hypnotic programming for Kamala was far more advanced and so, the young heroine didn’t see anything out of place with her behaviour, as she began to do some combat training in her dorm room. ‘Alright Kamala, you got this, you got this… noIdon’tgotthis!’ she screamed, falling on her ass; as her attempt to do a backflip kick failed. Shrinking the wrong parts of her body had caused her to do an inadvertent splits and she struggled to get back up again. However, as she was doing this, a loud fart ripped from between her bum, causing both bum cheeks to increase to an obscenely large level. The cheeks expanded, now both the side of dinner-trays; thick as two car tires, with a fleshy tightness that allowed Kamala to sway to her feet but then left her unsteady. ‘Woah, easy dumb butt, let’s get you under control!’. Practicing her kicks, Kamala felt another fart building but decided to keep training. Her black hair flew over her shoulders as she kept enlarging parts of her body, practicing hits on a punching bag; though a series of small farts escaped her tightly held butthole. ‘Prrrrfffhhhh’. ‘Pffffffff’. ‘Prrrfhhssss’. As Kamala kept practicing, she suddenly felt a much larger one rip free; enlarging her butt massively, to the point that she found herself suddenly off-balance again. ‘Crap!’. She hit the floor softly; thanks to enlarging her arms to a cushy size, however the impact caused a massive pain in her tummy and massively expanded her ass, to the point that it was now four times larger than the thighs and torso it was attached too. ‘Come on body, work with me’ begged Kamala, frustrated that her usual training issues were playing up today. Of course they weren’t normal at all, however Kamala no longer knew that. Half-a-mile away, the-red haired villainess sat; crying with evil laughter, as she watched her computer monitor with incredible glee. Watching Kamala act like this was the most fun she’d had in months and she kept slapping the table in amusement, struggling to breathe through the laughter, as she saw the heroine fall over from her massively over-inflated ass and high-powered farts. Becky’s legs were trembling with intense laughter and she sat in a white-skirt, red-shirt and red thong panties, at the secret hideout she had made her own. Admittedly, it was just a rented apartment with stolen money and a false name but still! It was a villainess’s hideout! That had to be impressive! As she kept laughing, Becky suddenly felt a burst of pee soak her red-thong panties and immediately straightened up; no longer laughing, as she shook off the laughter. ‘That wasn’t pee… that was sweat! Unlike those idiots, I don’t just have accidents like a toddler when I need to go! I use the bathroom whenever I want and don’t need to rush’. Despite this thought, Becky hurriedly stood up and raced to the toilet; just to make sure she had no further leaks… Meanwhile, Kamala’s overstretched body; in more ways than one, had reached its limit. Kamala felt what was happening a few seconds before it did and though she brought her knees tightly together, it didn’t stop what came next. ‘Oh not this again!’ moaned Kamala but it was too late. Kamala Khan’s training shots began to get soaked with piss, as the young hero lost control of her bladder. Pee burst through her blue Captain Marvel underwear and into the white-shorts, turning them a light yellow shade, as a series of stinky fishy farts continued to pulsate from her butt. Kamala let out a high pitch whine, as her enlarged butt dumped pee all over her legs and knees. She had; in her memories at least, experienced this dozens of times before, so was used to it by now but still didn’t enjoy the feeling and waited impatiently for it to be over. ‘Ugh, so gross’ moaned Kamala, as her accident finally stopped and she lay; stretched out, in a large puddle of pee. She knew it was the price she paid for being an inhuman, for being super-powered and able to help save the world. Even so, she hoped; in a few more years, she’d grow out of it completely. Until then, she just needed to control it, especially as; to her delight, she had a training session with her idol and role model, Carol Danvers AKA Captain Marvel, in just a few short weeks. Kamala was determined everything would go perfectly and resolved herself to keep training in preparation, so she could impress her hero. ‘I’ll do that’ decided Kamala. ‘Right after I get out of these wet clothes!’. TWO WEEKS LATER Kamala was breathing heavily, sweat on her brow, as she nervously knocked on the door of the log cabin. She knew it was silly but Everytime she went to see her mentor and idol; Carol Danvers, it left her paralysed with fear when first arriving. Kamala worshipped the ground Carol walked on and as such, was constantly worried that Carol would one day grow mad at her for something she’d done or failed to do, refusing to help train her. In her worst nightmares, Carol would even demand Kamala no longer use her old moniker; the very thought of which had left her waking up in a cold sweat more than once. Still, she needn’t have been worried, as Carol opened the door and smiled upon seeing Kamala. ‘Hey, you ready for some training?’ said Carol enthusiastically, punching her fist to an open-palm for dramatic effect. Carol was dressed in her bomber jacket and a tight pair of dark blue jeans, her butt cheeks accentuated well by the fabric. Despite the fact she could enlarge and shrink her body, Kamala felt jealous at her idol’s natural beauty and then blushed; realising she’d been staring at her role model’s ass for way too long. ‘Y-yep, I’m ready, let’s do this!’. The two walked to a training area Carol had set up in the trees, with dozens of targets: Plastic dummies, repurposed ULTRON drones, AIM tanks, all ready for them to demolish for practice. As they approached, neither noticed that they were beginning to show visible signs of being desperate for the toilet. Kamala had crossed her legs several times on the walk over, while Carol; having been hypnotically programmed by Kamala last night under trance, was regularly holding herself, one hand stuffed down her jeans and clutching a pair of slightly damp red panties against her trembling, overworked pussy. For now, neither of them had noticed the other’s strange behaviour. This was about to change. ‘Marvel, morpho punches, three tanks; on your left!’ shouted Carol. Kamala’s enlarged fists punched through the AIM vehicles like paper, crushing their turrets underneath her fists; now hard as diamond. ‘Captain, photon blasts on Ultron drones at Point 2.5!’ responded Kamala, watching in awe as her hero blasted apart the training robots like they were made of clay. ‘I have such a girl crush, it’s embarrassing’ thought Kamala Khan; though it wasn’t romantic, just pure admiration. The two were practicing combo-takedowns on enemy factions and for Kamala, it was a dream come true. Spending time with her hero; fighting bad guys… well, sort of. It would have been cooler if they were actual bad guys, not training drones; she thought. Still, she was sure they would get their chance soon enough. ‘Marvel, civvies to hero’ shouted Carol, Kamala nodding quickly. In battle, sometimes a hero is launched into a fight before they can transform into their recognisable armour and costumes. However; as every hero with a secret identity knew, and even those who cared about basic branding, it was ill-advised to fight too long in civilian gear. As such, each would transform at a moment’s opportunity into their specialised costume and this was what Kamala now did. Throwing a STARK-tech nano-ejector towards Captain Marvel, she hit the button on her own and felt a tight costume slide over her body in a manner of femtoseconds; absorbing her regular clothes into the ejector, itself condensed into a pocket in their uniforms. There was just one problem… ‘Training drones, halt! Security override: Talos’. The drones immediately stopped firing, as Carol Danvers looked towards Kamala; annoyed. Momentarily confused, the young heroine looked towards her mentor and blushed bright-red when she realised what had happened. ‘This is your gear! You’ve got them mixed up!’. Carol Danvers body was now covered in the red, yellow and blue, homemade burkini suit that was Kamala’s superhero costume, while Kamala herself was now in Carol’s tight black and yellow leather: A retro costume that Carol used when training with Kamala. She had to admit, the change made her feel very powerful; embarrassed as she was, while Carol now looked like an overgrown high-school student, yellow locks running down, below her shoulders, with the red tights sticking tightly to her legs. ‘I’m so sorry Carol, I didn’t mean-’. ‘-You can’t make a mistake like that on the battlefield Kamala, it will waste time and lives could be lost’. ‘I-I know, I’m… I’m…’ Kamala tailed off, her face suddenly turning pale white. ‘… Kamala?’. ‘ARGH! BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFGGHGHHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSS’. Kamala screamed, clutching her belly intensely; as a sharp pain ripped through her from her thighs down to the bottom of her bum. It was immediately followed by an extremely loud fart, emanating from Kamala’s backside, as her perky young bottom suddenly tripled in size, pushing out the tight leather of Carol’s costume, while the young girl’s long, putrid fart and powers strained the suit’s integrity. Carol stared in disbelief, as Kamala gaped in horror; wishing that a supervillain would just blow up the world, so she could be dead and not have to face her mentor’s response to her disgusting behaviour. However, rather than a scolding, Carol’s next reaction was one of mutual confusion, frustration and fear. ‘BRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! BRRRRRR!!!! BRRRRRRR!!!! PSRRFFFFFFFHHHHH!!!!!!’. Carol let out a series of high-powered farts, each one causing photon blasts to rip through the back of Kamala’s tights; exposing Carol’s sexy, shaking bum to the young hero, causing her to blush scarlet red. The smell was awful, thick, intense; with an electric tanginess from the cosmic energy, as Carol stared down at her own body, bewildered. ‘What the hell?! Argh! BRRRRFFFFFFFPPPPPPHHHSHHSHSSH’. Another round of intense, stinky photon farts blew through the hole in Carol’s suit, as Kamala recoiled from the smell. ‘Oh, gross, gross, gross! I’m literally dying’ she moaned, as Carol Danvers whole body turned scarlet red with embarrassment. ‘Kamala I’m so sorr… OH NO. No, no, no, no, no!’. Captain Marvel screamed as a hot, wet blast of photon empowered shit blast straight from her asshole, spattering the forest floor beneath her at super-speed. Kamala stared in shock, while Carol looked horrified, as several less powerful bursts caused clumps of shit to run down the back of Carol’s legs; smudging over Kamala’s red tights. Kamala, practically struck dump until this moment, suddenly felt an intense pang of pain burst through her own body and gasped, as a huge streak of pee flooded through Carol’s tight black leather costume. It ran down Kamala’s exposed legs in several streams, as the young heroine felt lightheaded and shocked. ‘Oh god, I’m peeing Captain Marvel’s supersuit! No, no, no, this can’t be happening! Holy shit!’. Her shock did not slow down the accident in the slightest however, as Kamala Khan continued to wet herself; piss forming into a puddle beneath her, while a sickening amount went down her black leather leggings and into her boots, her toes now sploshing around uncomfortably inside her own piss. ‘Argh, so gross, Captain, I’m so sorry!’ cried Kamala, tears running down her face. The elder hero barely heard her, too busy crapping herself in a humiliating display to even fully register what had happened to Kamala. Carol couldn’t believe this was happening. She was Carol Danvers, a legendary hero; who had saved the world countless times. She was not a panty-pooping; obliterating in this case, little girl who couldn’t hold herself during training. She could not have been more mortified. Kamala meanwhile was no less happy. ‘I can’t believe I’m having an accident in front of my hero! This is the worst thing that’s ever happened to me!’ thought Kamala, as she felt her stomach building up for one last; awful, display. ‘Oh god no. Please, please, no… ARGH!!!!’. Kamala screamed, as she felt her butt enlarge to a ridiculously out of proportion size for her body; as Carol finally snapped out of her self-pity, realising what was happening to the young hero. Unfortunately, she could do nothing but watch as Kamala Khan let out the largest, smelliest, most horrific smelling fart that Carol had ever had the misfortune of coming near her nose, before the inevitable followed. ‘PPPPPPPRPRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFHHHHHHHHHHHHHHBBBBBBBBBBBBBRRRRRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPPPPHHHHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSSS!’. Large, thick clumps of shit; extended well beyond human size by Kamala’s enlarged butt, began to slide from her exhausted asshole, pouring through her anus and stretching against the black-leather. Pulled to breaking point, the leather snapped open and Kamal’s knees trembled as piss and shit began to run down her bum, over her knees and down the back of her ankles; drenching her and her idol’s suit in filth. Mentally and physically exhausted, the immense pain of humiliation; yet physical relief of losing control, caused Kamala to collapse backwards, her massive bum falling into the pile of enormous shit she’d left on the forest floor. The young heroine sobbed; devastated, as more continued to push its way through, leaving her absolutely devastated. Carol looked on sympathetically. Though she was incredibly embarrassed, she knew how much Kamala looked up to her and how devastating this must be on the young hero. Putting her own needs to the side, she walked; uncomfortably in her ruined clothes, up to the sobbing hero, whose accident had finally come to an end, offering her a hand up. ‘We obviously trained too hard today’ said Carol confidently, unaware that she was being hypnotically programmed to believe this. ‘Come on Kamala, let’s get cleaned up’. Kamala looked up, tears in her eyes, though she didn’t take Carol’s hand; as her own were still covered in piss from when she’s tried to hold back her accident. ‘I don’t deserve any of this’ said Kamala despondently. ‘I’m not a hero, I’m just a stupid little girl from New Jersey. Just leave me’. ‘That’s an order Ms. Marvel’ said Carol more firmly. ‘You aren’t giving up because of this’. ‘The world still needs you’. Kamala looked towards Carol again, who gave a slight nod of affection. Smiling weakly, she realised that Carol was right. No matter how embarrassing this was, she had to keep fighting to get stronger, better; more controlled. For all those who couldn’t. Kamala Khan took Carol Danvers hand. A FEW DAYS LATER Jennifer Walters sat in her lawyer’s office, squirming at her desk. For the last several hours, she had been feeling an unusual need to use the bathroom that had been interfering with her regular legal practice. Normally, she arranged meetings with clients while in She-Hulk form; particularly with domestic abuse survivors, as it made them feel safer to be represented in court when going up against their abusers. Yet today, she had been alternating between her forms at random and her body kept shifting between extremes. One minute, she had been fine; the next, she was squirming under her desk, her tight green legs clamped tightly together, as she tried not to piss herself in her pinstripe trousers while listening to cases where New York’s struggling women had been beaten halfway around the block by their former high-school sweethearts, turned mean drunks after their football careers had fallen through. Right now, she was hearing a less serious case but unfortunately, that in and of itself was proving to be a problem for her, as this latest client had an unusual story to tell: ‘So, you’re saying the phone company experimented on you for their products by inserting computer chips in your ass?’ asked Jennifer in disbelief. ‘I know it sounds crazy but I have all the evidence right here!’ said the woman in her early 20’s, a thin, blonde with raggedy hair and deep blue eyes, wearing tight red jeans. Jennifer looked over the paperwork and at first; while cynical, the answer to the weirdness of this case became abundantly clear. Moxwell Phones was a front business for the Kingpin; New York’s most notorious crime boss, which she had come across many times in her repeated legal battles in court, as well as superhero escapades. Once, she and Spiderman had even had the unfortunate pleasure to end up in a three-way brawl with the muscle-bound madman. Terrifyingly, he had managed to go toe-to-toe with both of them for several minutes and even briefly knocked her unconscious with a metal beam, until Spiderman; badly injured but fighting on as ever, had done the same to him by chucking him into a stack of hundreds of loose gravel bags. She figured that Fisk must be using this business as a front for human trafficking and drug smuggling, with the computer chips story being a lie told to unwitting and poorly educated marks; allowing them to move large amounts of cocaine discretely around the city, without their victims being marked by the FBI, superheroes or other criminal gangs as the usual couriers. “Please say you believe me!’ begged the woman, tears in her eyes. ‘Mrs. Williams, I do’ said Jennifer sympathetically. ‘Please, explain your full story to me’. As she said this, Jennifer regretted her words only seconds later as she felt a huge desire to fart building up in her ass and took a slow, deep breath in order to calm it down. Her bladder was aching and she cursed her luck for having attended training with Ms. Marvel, Spider-Woman, and Peggy Carter the other day, clearly having exhausted her body too much after recovering from a recent supervillain’s attempt to poison the eastern United States water supply. Little did she know; at the end of that training session, when all the superheroines had gathered around a TV screen to review their training footage, Kamala had played a pre-recorded hypnosis video that had subtly programmed hypnotic behaviours into all of them, the main one of which was now affecting Jennifer. ‘I was applying for jobs, my rent was overdue and I needed money badly. Then, these two guys approached me in a bar and said that; for a few night’s work, I could get paid good money if I was willing to do some unorthodox stuff. I’m not prudish, I figured they just wanted sex but then they took me to this warehouse and I got really scared. I tried to leave but they wouldn’t let me and then they said that if I didn’t allow them to do their work, then they would hurt me and that I didn’t want to mess with their boss’. Jennifer listened sympathetically but she was struggling to concentrate, as she noticed her thick, green arm was beginning to transform back into a light, creamy pale human one and she felt a long, silent fart slowly escape from her clenched buttocks; the smell of ham and honey sandwiches beginning to fill her nose, as she struggled not to gag. Hiding her arm, she tried to will her body to stay as the She-Hulk and clenched her legs tightly together; her intense need to pee and shit beginning to feel seriously painful. ‘Go on’ said Jennifer, her voice strained with the exertion of her now failing body beginning to break down. ‘They told me that they were going to put computer chips inside my ass as a test for their new products and said that if I went to certain places each day for a week, then I’d be paid $1000 at the end and no one need ever know. Every time I got to the locations, I’d get woozy and pass out for a few minutes, then wake up with my whole body feeling sore and scar marks on my butt’. ‘I think Kingpin’s, ah… gang, used you as a hmm, drug mule said Jennifer desperately, now bouncing in her seat repeatedly; as she felt a massive burst of tension building that she somehow knew would completely wreck her bladder control. ‘What?!’ screamed the woman. ‘Those bastards!’. Jennifer; unable to take it any longer, rose to her feet and tried making her way to her office’s bathroom but Mrs. Williams blocked her path. ‘Mrs. Walters please, you’ve got to take my case! I know you’re a hero, you’ll help me, right? Please say you’ll help me?’. ‘I…’ said Jennifer, feeling incredibly faint, as one of her green legs reverted back to human form; causing her trousers to sag immensely, as her whole body shook. The woman finally noticed Jennifer’s unusual behaviour, frowning in confusion. ‘Are you alright?’. ‘I… I… I can’t hold it!’. Her large, green asshole let rip an immensely loud fart, as Jennifer turned bright red in humiliation and the woman stared at her incredulously. ‘BBBBBRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!’. ‘What the fuck?!’ said Mrs. Williams angrily. ‘Is this some kind of sick joke?’. ‘No, I’m so sorry, I need-’ started Jennifer but it was too late. She took one step forward, then; her asshole opened again, spewing forth a massive amount of shit, immediately causing her pinstripe pants to fill with hot, thick, sludgy crap, as an utterly foul smell filled the air. ‘Oh my god!’ gagged the woman. Jennifer’s whole body began to go haywire. Her arms and legs kept changing between her She-Hulk appearance and her human appearance, even splitting down the face with both, as she screamed in agony. The subsequent body changes caused her clothes to rapidly sag and then stretch, tearing holes at several places, as shit began to slide down her legs, while her asshole continued to expel more and more shit in heavy thuds, with much of it falling out through the holes in her pinstripe suit. She didn’t wear panties as they didn’t stretch enough, so nothing was restricting her breakfast from pouring out her bum as she trembled in humiliation, the heavy loads from She-Hulk causing her pinstripe pants to fall down, exposing her naked pussy to Mrs. Williams, as she began to lose the rest of her control and pee flooded down her legs, arcing out in a spray that caused the client to recoil back in horror; pee spilling into her shoes, while Jennifer Walters stood there, aghast, with her pinstripe suit trousers around her ankles, wetting and shitting herself; half-naked, like some kind of disobedient child who hadn’t been properly potty trained. ‘Fuck you!’ screamed the woman, turning in anger and yanking open the office door. ‘I trusted you and you treat me like this! No wonder people say never meet your fucking heroes!’. Mrs. Williams stormed out before Jennifer could stop her; though, in truth, she was too preoccupied to really try. Her accident continued unrestrained, as mounds of thick, brown shit; in log and clumpy shapes, fell over her black high-heeled shoes and the piss formed a massive puddle around her as Jennifer Walters; lawyer extraordinaire, continued to humiliatingly piss and shit herself, her clothes and her floor like a baby. Slowly, her asshole began to stop expelling shit and Jennifer’s body reverted to its all-green, She-Hulk form, trembling; an unusual sight for her, as piss dripped down her soaked, muscular legs and she felt the last of her accident pour from her body. She stood there for a few seconds, before punching her desk in frustration; leaving a huge hole through its corner. Sighing, Jennifer swore and stepped out of the muck. ‘This is my fifth accident this year!’ thought Jennifer. ‘If I don’t get this under control, clients are going to talk and I’m going to lose my license if I do this in a courtroom’. In truth, this was the first accident Jennifer Walters had experienced since grade school; however, the hypnotic trance had convinced her otherwise, making her believe that her She-Hulk body was suffering a multi-year long response to a viral infection, as an unfortunate form of mutated Gamma Poisoning. Despite her messy state, Jennifer Walters was still a hero; first and foremost, her heart going out to the poor client whose body had been used and abused by the Kingpin’s men, surgically tormented by shady criminals for a drug-trafficking scheme. She knew there was zero chance that Mrs. Williams would ever trust her again, however, she wasn’t the only lawyer in the city with special skills and; as much as she hated to help the competition, this seemed as good a time as any. Reaching out to her phone, she dialled a number she knew by heart: Nelson, Murdock & Page, where the legendary super-hero lawyer; as well as secretly the superhero Daredevil, resided. ‘Hi, this is Jennifer, can I speak to Matt? Yes, it’s urgent! Hi Matt! Yeah… I need your help. I’ve just messed things up with a client and I think you’ll be interested in what she has to say about hers’. ‘I’m sorry, we can’t afford to take on any new clients right now Mrs. Walters’ said Matt coolly but professionally, always the gentleman. ‘It’s a Fisk case’ she said bluntly. There was silence for a moment. ‘... Alright, I’m listening’. THE NEXT DAY Kate Bishop almost never missed. More specifically, she never missed her targets. Being trained by one of SHIELD’s most legendary agents; as well as being a prodigy archer in her own right, meaning that very little escaped her marksmanship. In battle, this meant that more than one supervillain; as well as countless drones, aliens, demons, vampires, warlocks, Werewolves, and living glass mannequins had met their end at her hand. During her days off, however, this was more of a fun party trick. Right now however, she was missing one thing: A bathroom. Kate Bishop was a young SHIELD protégé and experienced fighter; she was used to going without relief for long periods but something was unusual today. Her bladder felt uncomfortably full and she hoped her friend would be here soon. ‘Woah, sick girl! How’d you get so good at that?’ said an eighteen-year-old skater punk, having seen Kate throw three empty soda cans from the wall she was sitting on over 10ft., each one spinning on the bin’s rim and sliding in with perfect precision. ‘It’s a gift!’ she said sarcastically. ‘The gift of thousands of hours of work, blood, sweat and tears, broken bones, adrenalin rushes, self-loathing; you know, the works’. ‘Damn girl, okay! You waiting for someone?’ the boy said flirtatiously, sliding his bike in front of her. ‘Yeah, now scram!’ said Kate; annoyed, not wanting to deal with some random asshole right now. ‘Come on babe, don’t be like that’ said the boy; seemingly wanting to sign his own death warrant as he came into an uncomfortable leering distance of Kate’s boobs, tucked neatly inside her purple shirt. Moments before he would have got a broken nose, a friend grabbed Kate’s twitching arm. ‘He’s not worth it’s said Kamala, giving the boy a menacing stare, as he swore and cycled off; never knowing how close he came to a major beat-down. ‘What took you so long?’ said Kate. ‘Sorry, training these past few days has been crazy!’. ‘You take it so seriously’ said Kate flippantly, walking along the wall’s edge; as Kamala laughed. ‘Me?! You’re in the training grounds more than I am! You just want people to think you’re aloof to maintain this cool girl image!’. ‘Ooh, you’re right! … Is it working?’. ‘... Yeah, you are pretty awesome!’. Kate laughed, giving Kamala a friendly shoulder-punch of affection, as the two young teens made their way into the city. Kate was dressed in tight black jeans, with a purple top, sunglasses, and had her hair thrown back; straight as an arrow, swaying gently in the midday sun. Kamala by contrast was wearing bright blue jeans, a red and yellow striped jumper; with a thin white vest underneath, her long brown hair in a tangled mess. Coincidentally, both were wearing thin grey cotton panties. There was no hypnosis involved in that, however, just a similar taste in clothing stores. Unbeknownst to either of them, however, there: ‘Girl’s Afternoon Out’ had been set up through Becky; determined to humiliate Kate, who had assisted Kamala as a friend in stopping several of her prior schemes. However, she dare not try to secretly film her accident; even in plain clothes and hidden. Her hypnotic programming couldn’t undo years of SHIELD training and Kate was exceptionally observant, even by their standards. Instead, she had Kamala wearing a hidden camera; hidden inside her scarf. She’d also had Kamala slip diuretics into the water bottles at Kate’s house earlier that morning; Kamala knowing the password to get past Kate’s home defences. Since arriving for her meetup with Kamala, Kate had slowly been feeling more and more uncomfortable, as the diuretics forced their way through her system and she’d regretted downing those sodas now. As they walked, Kate searched the environment for toilets but was unable to find any; much to her annoyance. Kamala; under Becky’s careful guidance, had chosen the location well. There wasn’t a working toilet, bus stop, or stable phone reception for miles, and those diuretics were fast-acting. Becky laughed back at headquarters; watching the incident slowly play out through a camera feed. She knew that Kate didn’t have much time and she was right. Kate was now occasionally holding herself; though still trying to be discrete, swaying on the pathway they were on heading towards the city. Kamala; also having drunk some of the diuretic water, Becky never missing an opportunity to humiliate her, was beginning to struggle. Her butt kept randomly expanding inside her jeans, inflating to comical levels; nearly twice her size, as small farts escaped her backside. ‘PRRFFFFF, PRRFFF, PFFFFSH!!’. ‘Damn Kamala, what you been eating lately? That being said, I can’t really talk; feel like I ate gravel for breakfast, my stomach is killing me. This is weird, I never get this kind of stuff’ said Kate, confused. ‘Really? Happens to me all the time’ said Kamala resignedly. ‘Side effect of my powers’. Kate looked surprised. ‘You’ve never mentioned that before. Damn girl, that sucks. Guess it’s not always bad not having invincible skin or being stretchy enough to be a human trampoline’. ‘Hey!’ said Kamala, laughing in mock outrage. ‘For what it’s worth though, I don’t think you’re any less super without the powers’. ‘I wasn’t fishing for compliments Kam!’ said Kate defensively. ‘I know. Just wanted to say’. ‘Thanks Kamala’ said Kate, genuinely serious for a moment. ‘I mean it’. ‘You’re welcome’. The two young heroes’ sweet moment was interrupted as their desperate needs for the toilet grew worse. Kate was now walking with tightly clamped legs, while Kamala was openly holding herself, both girls clearly in pain, as their bladders filled to an uncomfortable level. Though neither would admit it, both had wet spots in their grey knickers that they were well aware wasn’t sweat and knew it wouldn’t be long before small leaks became huge accidents. ‘Jesus Kamala, why did you make us meet in this isolated dump?’ asked Kate, annoyed; finally beginning to openly hold herself, as she took a break from walking along the dirty canal to the city, the sound of water rushing by not helping her condition. ‘I’m sorry, Google Maps said it was a faster route! I’m not that great with directions!’. Kate gave Kamala an odd look; knowing that was unlike her, as Kamala normally had a good eye for where to meet up. Before she could consider it further, a massive rip of pain split through her stomach and Kate moaned in agony, squatting down and holding her stomach in frustration. Kamala gasped in shock and Kate in horror as a small stream of wee; lasting for three seconds long, burst through the crotch of Kate’s tight black jeans, pouring through her grey cotton underwear and onto the cobblestone below. ‘Right, that’s it!’ said Kate desperately. ‘I’m losing it; I’m going behind that tree!’. If Kamala had been in her right mind, she’d have been tearing at her own jean zipper to do the same; despite the embarrassment and risk of going in public. However, Becky had accounted for this possibility in her hypnotic programming and had made sure that Kamala would do everything in her power to prevent her friends and fellow heroes escaping their accidents this way. ‘What?!’ said Kamala, outraged. ‘Kate, you can’t go there, what if there are cameras!’. ‘Oh, so you’d rather I piss myself on camera than go behind a bush?’. ‘You don’t need to do either, neither of us do!’ said Kamala; though deep down, she didn’t believe it, as she was already doing the pee-pee dance and desperately holding herself between her thighs. ‘We can find a toilet somewhere!’. ‘There’s no time, I’m about to go, hold on yourself if you want to!’. Kate began to unzip her trousers, however, Kamala’s programming kicked in, and just as she’d slid them down to her knees; racing to pull her grey panties down, Kamala’s hands stretched over and knocked Kate’s own away, pulling up her trousers in a fast yank. ‘Fuck off Kam, what the hell?!’ said Kate angrily. ‘Why are you being such a… an… oh no!’. Kate tried to pull her trousers down again but they weren’t even below her knees as a loud, smelly, putrid fart ripped through the air, and pee flooded through her grey knickers; before forming a waterfall of golden streams that ran straight downwards, though a few streams broke loose, spraying her jeans and Kate’s legs and shoes. Kamala wanted to look away but the hypnotic programming didn’t even let her truly consider the idea, as Kamala felt her own need to go accelerate to critical levels. ‘Fuck, fuck… fuck, I can’t hold it!’ screamed Kamala, her butt letting out an enormous fart as it expanded to obscene levels. ‘PRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHSSSSSSSSSSPPPPPPPPPPSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS’. With every second it went on, Kamala began to wet and shit herself simultaneously. Both flooded into her panties together, filling them in a second as golden streams ran down the front of her legs, over her knees and showing up as a massive, expanding wet patch on her jeans and crotch, while thick brown streams; shit mixed in with piss, went down the back, leaving her jeans bum area with a massive brown stain on it, that was only getting bigger, stinkier and more embarrassing by the second. Both superheroes continued to wet themselves; Kamala’s shitting accident being especially horrifying for her, not even happening during training. False memories told her this wasn’t unheard of for her but even so, it had been a while; at least three months in her head, since the last one and she thought she’d been moving past it. It was embarrassing; no, mortifying shame to have that turn out not to be the case when out with her friend Kate. She also felt awful for accidentally making her own accident worse, unsure of why she felt so honour-bound to stop her as if her role as a superhero should prioritize preventing young, eighteen year-old-girls; on the verge of an accident, from using an emergency toilet area. ‘I-I’m so sorry Kate!’ said Kamala; tears running down her face, as she ran off in shame, realizing what she had done to her friend by what she’d thought was her stubborn pride. ‘Kamala!’ screamed Kate angrily, though as she heard her friends sobs; despite everything, she felt sorry for her. Kamala hadn’t meant for this to happen. ‘She’s such a stupid bitch!’ moaned Kate, before feeling guilty at the comment. ‘Come on, no she’s not, she just made a mistake. Sure, she chose a bad location and didn’t seem in any hurry, then stopped me… but… ah, she’s just a do-gooder. Aren’t all heroes like us though? Yeah but this isn’t like her. Not really’ thought Kate, suddenly feeling suspicious. Kamala was definitely aspiring to be what Clint jokingly referred to as a ‘Parrot’ AKA a hero who is always prattling off speeches, inspiring quotes, and obeying the rule to the letter; never wavering on their principles, believing that would make her a better hero and would make Carol Danvers proud of her. But even so, Kate realized that something was off. Kamala may be a little tightly wound sometimes; sure, but she could be practical and she didn’t consider crime-fighting to be stopping one of her friends from avoiding a major and humiliating accident. Something was wrong. Trying to ignore the pee on her legs and jeans, Kate carefully slid off all the clothes on her bottom half; making sure she was hidden from any passing strangers, as well as other prying eyes she was now wary of, before attaching the sodden panties to a small arrowhead she pulled from her pocket. She always kept a mini-compact bow and a few arrowheads with her in most civilian circumstances, in case she ever needed to take down the odd mugger or; worst case scenario, a shooter when she wasn’t on active duty. Technically, using it for this purpose wasn’t the most appropriate use of her skills as a master archer but she figured that this was an unusual circumstance and could be justified if anyone ever found out about it. Probably. Pulling back her bow and releasing, the panties were flung on the edge of an arrowhead and the shot was perfect; sliding the arrow into a gutter, while the panties got stuck at the top of a pipe, where leaves would quickly obscure them from the very limited view anyone could already have. She’d return tonight and collect them, once she hightailed it back to her apartment and did three things. Firstly, a shower. The pee on her jeans and legs was beginning to cool and she didn’t like the sensation when warm; let alone icy. Secondly, she was going to do a blood test; to check if she had been poisoned with some kind of nerve agent or diuretic. Finally; if she had been, she was going to contact one of Kamala’s friends. She had all their numbers memorized; as she did with the close friends and family of all her Avengers and superhero teammates, in case they were ever injured or killed in battle. Kate couldn’t be sure who was in on this but knew who she could safely eliminate wasn’t. Whether others had noticed yet or not, something needed to be done. Something wasn’t right with Kamala Khan. THE PREVIOUS WEEK Gwen Stacy was baffled. Shocked. Terrified. All of the above. She was having; quite possibly, the most confusing week of her life. It had all started after a superhero training session, routine stuff. She’d done some fight training with Carol Danvers, Kamala Khan, Janet Van Dyne; a few others. Yet ever since then, things had been anything but normal. It had all started on the first day when; out of nowhere, a bright blue flash of light had engulfed her and she had gone from swinging in the city of New York she knew to a mid-2000’s version of the city that looked similar but was nothing like the world she knew. There were no Avengers, no alien invasions, no heroes… except one. Spiderman. She’d somehow ended up in an alternate world that only had a black-suited Spiderman, who seemed to be able to move around the city with incredible speed and skill that even she couldn’t match. To her shock, she soon realized that it was Peter Parker; learning his identity when she followed him from a distance, being careful not to trigger his Spidey-Sense as a threat. She also realized that he was really weird. For some reason, she’d seen him leave a clothing store the other day doing air thrusts and weird dance moves towards women; all while listening to ‘Funky Soul’ via his MP3 player and wireless headphones. That sight alone had made her bizarre journey almost worth it, however; she didn’t have time to question it. From there, her timeline jumping began in earnest. Today, she was at high school with Mary Jane; heading to band practice, where she was going to test a theory, hopefully before she jumped again. Gwen figured that the world-jumping was due to unstable DNA, ever since her battle as part of what she’d nicknamed the ‘Spiderverse’ incident, where she and a group of her parallel selves had battled Wilson Fisk. She figured that if the bands played their music together, the harmonies may combine with her unstable DNA patterns to form a more stable; eventually allowing her to stabilize and perhaps travel between universes at will. Currently, she’d been forced out within a handful of days each time; before the different dimensional energies ripped her apart. If she; as well as some of her alternate selves, had worked out the same conclusion, then multiple universes worth of Gwen Stacy Spiderwoman, in the same environment, should be able to create a ‘Multiverse Synchronisation Gateway’ and that was her ticket home. She knew she might only get one shot at this. She’d been trying it in a dozen different timelines; so far nothing, yet if she didn’t for any reason, then the others may achieve it without her, and then she’d be stuck as a permanent unstable presence between universes; forever. What she didn’t know is that her DNA had been set off by an unintended effect of Kamala’s hypnosis. The program had instructed Gwen to go far away from Kamala and begin placing herself into situations where she would be forced to suffer humiliating accidents. Her genetically altered mind; still not entirely understood by her or many Spidermen/Spiderwomen, had responded to this by manifesting a new ability from her DNA; already charged with multi-dimensional energy: She now had the ability to jump through parallel worlds at a whim. Unfortunately, Gwen needed to use this strange, risky, unreliable, and limited opportunity method to get control of it or she would never have a semblance of a normal life again. Naturally; during a time of immense personal crisis and stress, Gwen practically wanted to scream in annoyance as her bladder had filled rapidly this morning, leaving her now desperate for the toilet as she approached her band class. She wanted to go but she couldn’t risk it, so instead, she tightly clamped her legs and moved forwards. ‘You okay Gwen?’. It was this universe’s Mary Jane: A fiery redhead; like the vast majority, she’d seen, with huge boobs that this timeline’s version of Peter was staring at for half his time at college. Having slipped into the place of her alternate self, Gwen was dressed in a thin white skirt and dark blue cotton panties; with bare legs and white trainers, while Mary Jane wore a tight white tank-top and short red-skirt, with Gwen having glimpsed red lingerie on MJ earlier; much to her enjoyment. ‘Y-yeah, I’m fine, just tired. Still, need to focus if I’m gonna do well at band today’. ‘I know what you mean’ said MJ. ‘It gets so tiring sometimes. Come on tiger, let’s get this done, then we’ll go get Chinese food!’. MJ kissed her girlfriend’s cheek, causing Gwen to blush. In this timeline it seemed, they were partners and boy was she an enthusiastic lover. Gwen had initially wanted to decline her advances but had discovered earlier in her dimension-hopping that acting out of character for this version of herself in the timeline caused her to rapidly jump to a new one within minutes of her altered behaviour. Thankfully, she had the memories of each new Gwen she booted into another timeline, so could use that to stay in character. Giving MJ’s bum a gentle squeeze, the redhead giggled in delight and the two entered band practice, taking their seats, as Gwen felt a slight tanginess in the air. ‘Do you feel that?’ asked Gwen excitedly. ‘Feel what?’ asked MJ. ‘N-nothing, nevermind’. Realizing that no-one else could sense it, she realized it must be the beginning of a multiverse synchronization event and if she could just keep this going for a few minutes; she could be home! Desperately squirming in her seat, Gwen cursed her infuriatingly small bladder but fought through. This was her moment. She could not miss it for anything, least of all a bathroom break. Using her enhanced reflexes to put her hand up first when the teachers asked to play a song, she chose one that was meaningful to multiple versions of Spidermen and Spiderwomen everywhere, a song that paid tribute to a close friend and someone she wished could be her partner. Oh yes, she knew the exact song. ‘Yes, Mrs. Stacy? What shall we play?’. ‘Blackway & Black Caviar, What's Up Danger’. ‘Very well!’. The band began to play as Gwen smiled. She knew that; in many universes, this song meant the world to Miles: Playing it through his suit during the moment he truly became Spiderman, hyping himself up with music. She sometimes listened to it so she could imagine seeing him properly again and perhaps; one day, starting the relationship they know they could. Nothing was going to stop her now. Not a billion universes, not DNA gone wild and not her desperate need to pee, which now had her wriggling on her seat to the point that MJ was looking at her with a knowing stare. She didn’t care. This was it. Two-thousand on thermometers Two-thousand surroundin' us Travel two-thousand kilometers To hang out with us The tanginess in the air increased and Gwen smiled, though quickly grimaced too, as her desperation began to reach critical levels, feeling a small spurt of pee leak into her panties; as she blushed bright red. Even so, she could see bolts of electricity ricocheting off the wall and knew that now was not the time to stop. What's up, danger? (Danger) What's up, danger? (Danger) An intense fart escaped her that she was barely able to keep silent, as she felt reality began to fall apart around her; even as the band continued to play the music. She could feel bursts of pee soak her knickers and the putrid smell hit her nose but she could not, would not, be stopped. She kept playing as she felt herself lose control. Ayy, gettin' old, they doubted us Makes it that more marvelous Sign 'em up, 'cause I'm in this vibe and I get synonymous Pee was flooding over her skirt now, a wet patch expanding across her skirt and down her legs; as Mary Jane’s eyes widened in shock. ‘Gwen… you’re…’. ‘Out of here!’. Gwen felt her whole body fall forwards, as she was blasted into a vortex of unimaginable energy; as she screamed in terror. Piss and shit flooded over her legs in a matter of seconds, yet within a split-second, she was wetting her white spider-suit, then a red and yellow one with wings. Jeans, skirts, mountain gear, Hand Clan uniform, a Green Goblin Suit, Thor’s Armor, Oscorp research gear, Dr. Strange’s sorcery robes: She could feel her piss flooding inside hundreds of different costumes in a single moment; infinite versions of her wetting herself inside a moment of pure chaos at the heart of the multiverse. What's up, danger? Ayy, don't be a stranger 'Cause I like high chances that I might lose (lose) I like it all on the edge just like you, ayy I like tall buildings so I can leap off of 'em Then, she felt herself living a thousand lives and memories all at once. She saw one universe where Mary Jane and Peter Parker had her tied to a bed, with her squirming desperately in black lingerie; utterly bursting for a piss. Mary Jane was whispering sweet nothings in her ear, while Peter used his Spider-Sense to find every weak point in her body and was edging her on orgasm like nothing she had ever felt. The pleasure and desperation were indescribable. She felt Mary Jane slide over her, as hot pee flooded from Mary Jane’s own red Victoria secret panties and a loud fart emanated from her backside; shit and piss beginning to slide into the redhead’s lingerie and over Gwen’s stomach. ‘Let go Gwen’ whispered Mary Jane and Gwen’s own release, her own accident, her own orgasm, shook the whole multiverse with pleasure. I go hard wit' it no matter how dark it is I'm insane but on my toes I could keep the world balanced on my nose I had a slumber party wit' all my foes Now I wear 'em like a badge of honour all my clothes If I'm crazy, I'm on my own If I'm waitin', it's on my throne If I sound lazy, just ignore my tone 'Cause I'm always gonna answer when you call my phone Gwen felt her whole body vibrate with ecstasy, yet she kept falling through infinity and saw and felt a thousand more universes. Worlds where the Avengers fell and she; the last hero, turned back invasions at the survivors’ colonies from plague mutant zombies, the last Supervillains, and even Thanos, battling the Mad-Titan equipped with Spider sorcery that she could barely comprehend. Like, what's up, danger? (Danger) Like, what's up, danger? (Danger) D-don't be a stranger What's up, danger? Two-hundred miles-per-hour wit' a blindfold on (on) Mama always askin', "Where did I go wrong?" (wrong) What's up, danger? Ah, what's up, danger? She saw universes where Miles Morales, Peter Parker, and Mary Jane were holding her as a wife, then fighting her to the death as a brutal; ruthless, enemy. She watched beautiful displays of love and horrifying displays of hate and screamed in terror at all of those, yet still, she kept falling, every inch of her soaked in fear, piss, grief and pleasure. Traveled two-hundred miles, I'm knockin' at your door And I don't really care if you ain't done wrong, come on What's up, danger? (Danger) D-don't be a stranger (stranger) Gwen was horrified that she was going to be stuck in this chaos forever but she forced herself to concentrate. She could still hear the band’s music: ‘What’s Up Danger’, echoing across the entire spectrum of creation and she used it as her anchor. She envisioned her universe in her mind and suddenly, the vortex of creation began to take shape, feeling less chaotic and forming into pictures she could see in front of her: There it was! Her New York! Her home! But her heart was divided and the picture began to split into two, terrifying Gwen that she was about to lose it. ‘No!’, she screamed in absolute horror. I like it when trouble brews, I won't dare change I like it when there's turbulence on my airplanes I like it when I sense things I can't see yet Fortunately, the image wasn’t collapsing but showing possibilities: Two. She saw two universes ahead of her in the vortex and ahead, she saw the heroes and friends she knew, the world she’d grown up in, the people she’d fought for all her life. Then, she saw Miles; the Miles she’d fallen in love with, in his world, and knew that if she willed herself to, that she would end up in his universe and could stay there forever, free of the cursed divide between dimensions. She could be with the man she loved, as she felt his heartbeat with the music. Swimmin' with sharks when they ain't feed yet 'Cause I like high chances that I might lose I like it all on the edge just like you, ayy I like tall buildings so I can leap off of 'em I go hard wit' it no matter how dark it is For a brief moment, Gwen wanted to. She wanted to more than anything. But her world still needed her. Gwen knew that. One day, she would find Miles again. But this was not their moment. She aimed her heart and mind towards her universe; tears rolling down her eyes, as the image of a smiling Miles looking right at her, as he began to fade. He nodded at her in approval; tears in his eyes. She cried aloud with emotion and fell through the divide between universes, as she appeared; like a ball of white and blue fire, in the New York skyline. If I'm crazy, I'm on my own If I'm waitin', it's on my throne If I sound lazy, just ignore my tone 'Cause I'm always gonna answer when you call my phone Like, what's up, danger? (Danger) Like, what's up, danger? Can't stop me now I said, "I got you now" I'm right here at your door I won't leave, I want more What's up, danger? The people of the city stared up at her, afraid for a moment that she was a hostile attack but soon, they saw one of their heroes; Spiderwoman, through the fire and cheered. She had been missing for almost a week and her return brought a wave of cheers and applause ripping through the city, as Gwen cried with relief and happiness; before laughing, as she realized that pee and shit had still filled up her white Spider-Suit. Yeah, what's up, danger? Can't stop me now, yeah I said, "I got you now" Come on, what's up, danger? Come on, I said, "What's up, danger?" Gwen Stacy had returned. Spider-Woman was back. THAT SAME DAY
 Janet Van Dyne had been having… problems. She didn’t want to admit it; certainly not to her judgmental husband, yet age was starting to get to her. Up until last year, she’d handled everything that the inevitable passage of time had thrown at her. She’d worn glasses willingly, moved slower but with grace, accepted that certain muscles were just going to be permanently aching now; not helped by her superhero lifestyle, which she had maintained long past the point where many other heroines might have retired. Janet loved hero work. She had gotten her husband Hank into it, not the other way around; despite what he may sometimes claim. Age and a few pains were not going to stop her. But this latest problem had left her wondering whether she really had gotten too old to carry things on. Last year; a false memory implanted by mind-controlled Kamala, Janet had been running a search and rescue operation inside a housing district that had been devastated by fighting with the Kree Empire. She’d been in her Antwoman Suit, crawling through the wreckage of a destroyed home, when she’d felt an unbearably bad need to piss. Trying her hardest to push it off, she’d made it through the rest of the operation, only to get changed into her civilian clothes and completely soak herself in her car on the way home. Janet could still remember; to her shame, how it felt to soak her beige cream trousers, feel a thick, wet log of her own shit squirm its way from her desperately clenched asshole and smear all over her bum and driver’s car seat. The worst part had been Hank’s scornful remarks when she got home and cold treatment of her for days after, her husband despised weak women. It was part of the reason he’d been attracted to her in the first place, a confident, bold young woman, in a science division, giving ideas and lectures to pig-headed men; way above her station. While others would have fired her, Hank made her his personal research assistant and; as times got gradually fairer for women, promoted her to co-head of his division. She’d fallen in love with him for believing in her and Hank had reciprocated due to her strength and conviction. The moment Hank saw her in piss-stained and shit-smelling clothes, she’d lost a huge portion of that respect and had been working for months to regain it. Even now, she still got the odd, disgusted look from her husband if she needed the bathroom too often and she couldn’t stand it. She wanted him to see her as the strong woman she knew she was once more. Of course; in reality, no such thing had ever happened. Hank; still immensely guilty over his wife being trapped for decades in the Quantum realm, wouldn’t have criticized her for bringing home anything less than a severed head; let alone a messy pair of trousers. Of course; thanks to the hypnotic programming, that knowledge had been lost and Janet had spent the last few weeks immensely stressed, hiding her accidents; that were now happening more and more frequently, multiple times a day. Janet’s first one that day began before she was even awake. Squirming and wriggling around in bed, her legs clenched tightly together in a dark red nightgown, Janet’s mature legs were wrapped around each in a vice-like grip, her whole body struggling to restrain the accident that the hypnotic programming was trying to force on her. In her dream, Janet was back at high school; sixteen years old, taking her exams again. She’d drank far, far too much water and was now squirming in her seat, in her tight white school blouse, her red lace bra feeling constricting to her sweaty boobs, and her white cotton panties dripping with what she hoped was sweat. ‘Mrs. Dyne!’ said her teacher; Hank Pym, in a thunderous voice. Her husband and teacher was dressed in a sharp, black suit and holding a long measuring ruler that sent a huge chill of fear racing down Janet’s spine and made her start to lose control at her seat in the class, pee flooding through her white panties in fear, as all her classmates turned to watch Janet wet herself, who was sobbing in terror. Laughter and insults filled the room, as back in the real world, Janet’s nightgown was wet at its bottom, the smallest of puddles forming under her bum, as her body shook with desperation; trying in vain to wake her up. ‘Janet… come to the front of the class. Now!’. Somehow, hearing her first name was far scarier and she stood up, trembling and soaking, her black schoolgirl shoes walking through her puddle, as she stood before Mr. Pym. ‘You’ve had an accident, didn’t you?’. ‘Y-yes s-sir!’ sobbed Janet. ‘P-please l-l-let me c-clean up!’. ‘Not before your punishment Janet. Bend over the desk’. She hesitated. ‘Now Janet!’ his scream terrified her and in the real world, another burst of pee leaked from her pussy, spraying through her fingers, where she was desperately holding herself; clenching her pussy with both hands, as she whimpered like a little girl, in both worlds, her deep, hypnotic sleep unable to be breached, her smooth, mature legs, glistening with wetness, as a loud fart filled the air: ‘BRRRRRAAAAAFHHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRTRRRRRRRRRTTTTSSSSSSSSSSSS’. ‘Janet has been a disgusting, dirty, weak little girl class and she must be punished’. ‘No sir, please, don’t!’. But it was too late. Janet; trembling over the teacher’s desk, sobbed in horror as her skirt was flipped up, exposing her shitty, wet panties to the whole class, as she farted putrid stink towards them, making everyone laugh and gag in horror. Then, the blows landed; the ruler smacking against her ass, as she cried on the table. The blows landed again and again and Janet cried out, as piss and shit anew flooded from her white wet knickers and down the back of her legs, as her teacher stared at her with utter contempt, and the sound of people laughing filled her ears. ‘No!!!’ she screamed, the sound of her voice being replaced with an alarm; as she jolted awake. For a moment, Janet was relieved but then, she felt around her crotch and a chill ran down her spine. ‘Oh no! No, no, no!’ Throwing back her duvet, she nearly gagged at the smell, finding her long legs covered in piss, her nightgown smeared in shit and stained yellow; with wet patches everywhere, while the sheets were utterly foul. It was not helped by the fact that; despite everything; Janet found herself repeatedly farting, the putrid, horrific, tangy, yet bitter odor only adding to the room’s foul concoction: ‘PRRRRRRF!’, ‘PRRRRRFFFFFFSSSSSS’, ‘SRRRRRPHHHHHMMMMM!’ FLRRRRRRRRRRPRRRRRFFFFFHHH!’. ‘Oh god’ said Janet, as the last wave of shit and pee flooded from her exhausted asshole, as she trembled in her blankets; still continuing to have an accident and wet & shit the bed. Suddenly, a voice called out and Janet’s blood ran cold. ‘Everything alright up there?’ called Hank Pym, having barely head his wife’s upset moans. ‘I-I’m fine!’ she said unconvincingly. ‘Well, I’m just bringing you some breakfast!’. Janet’s mind worked at a million miles per hour. Frantically jumping from her bed, Janet quickly grab an experimental piece of shrink tech and threw it towards her bed, shrinking the entire structure down to the size of a pin. She then jumped into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door just in time to avoid her husband seeing her in her foul nightclothes, covered in piss. ‘Good morning, I brought you some breakfast…Where is the bed?’ asked Hank Pym. ‘Oh, I’m using it for an experiment!’ she said hurriedly, turning on the shower and jumping side. ‘An experiment?’ asked Hank, confused. ‘Y-yes, to test the dexterity of cotton and foam surfaces when exposed to a heating agent combined with Pym Particles. Pym nodded approvingly, impressed by his wife’s work ethic. ‘Well, just make sure you get our bed back by tonight’ he warned. ‘I want to be able to sleep’. ‘Yes dear!’ she said, hurriedly scrubbing herself clean and throwing the wet, dirty lingerie behind the toilet. Hank Pym gave a devilish smile, slowly unlocking the bathroom door before he stepped inside and pulled off his early morning clothes: A suit, tie; white socks, and black shoes. He then pulled back the curtain, Janet having just narrowly cleaned herself in time, as she jumped in shock. ‘Hank, don’t scare me like that!’ she lectured, as her husband stepped into the bathtub with her; not noticing the last of Grace’s piss and shit wash away, much to her relief. ‘You are looking delightful today my darling’ said Hank Pym, a lustful edge to his voice. Right now, Janet felt anything but sexy and didn’t want her husband touching her; in case he found a part of her body she hadn’t cleaned. However, seeing how throbbing hard his cock was, standing up thick and straight, as well as the fact he knew she wasn’t on her period, Janet decided to get creative. Pulling him into a passionate kiss, she then pushed him against the wall, as hot water ran over both their bodies and she fell to her knees; slowly kissing down his body. ‘You haven’t done this in… a while!’ moaned Hank Pym. ‘I’ve just been thinking about how you rescued me’ said Janet seductively, as she began kissing her husband’s balls. ‘I was the one who caused you to get trapped there in the first place’ he said glumly. ‘That’s not true and you know it. You came back for me. Now, let me show you how grateful I can be’. Hank Pym’s eyes rolled back in his head as Janet Van Dyne slid his thick cock deep into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat; yet she did not gag. Starting to enjoy herself and feeling more powerful and in control than just a few minutes ago; sat wet and ashamed on her bed like a soiled toddler, she pleasured her husband thoroughly, extracting sweet and rough moans from him as his seed leaked from his mouth and dripped down her throat and out her lips in hot, white bursts. Eventually, he lost complete control and Janet swallowed as much as she could manage, before letting her husband release the rest over her face and mature, faded pink but still large breasts. Janet smiled. It felt good to be in control. That feeling lasted roughly three-and-a-half hours. As Janet headed into town, she was sitting in the driver’s seat of their car, preparing to get some supplies in for dinner. Heading to the local grocer’s, she found a growing feeling of discomfort in her bladder and realized; to her horror, that she already badly needed to use the toilet again. ‘Not again!’ she moaned. ‘This is ridiculous. What is wrong with me?’. Tears came to Janet’s eyes but she wiped them away quickly. She was not weak. She would not be weak. She would hold it, buy groceries and then make her way home. She was a mature woman, not a weak, elderly, doddery old fool. She would hold it. She could hold it. ‘I can hold it’ she said to herself. So, Janet Van Dyne sat in her car; driving to the store, in beige cream trousers and a white blouse, fidgeting and squirming, occasionally holding herself, yet refusing to allow herself to think properly about how much pain she was in from holding her bladder. Even as the pain made her shoulders tremble with exhaustion and Janet felt sweat pouring down the back of her neck, she refused. ‘It’s all in your head. You control your own body’. She had no idea how wrong she was at this moment; thanks to Becky’s programming, however, Janet refused to see it. So, the drive continued, with the mature superheroine slowly growing more desperate, small, smelly farts with high-pitched whines, escaping her bum; stinking the car. Lowering the window, she could hear the sound of rain pouring down loudly onto the car but blocked it out. She wouldn’t think of rain, water, toilets, how badly she wanted one, how much she was containing inside her… ‘Ah, here we are!’ said Janet with false happiness, trying to deny her own thought processes by heading into the store. Walking with her pants tightly buckled and her legs clamped together, Janet felt incredibly uncomfortable, the metal of her belt digging painfully into her overworked tummy, as her body desperately fought to let out another fart… or worse. Janet refused to indulge it, however, grabbing a shopping trolley as she walked around the store; slowly, as the pressure in her bladder got worse and worse. ‘I don’t need the toilet, I can hold it, I don’t need the toilet, I can hold it, I don’t need the toilet, I can… I can… I… oh fuck!’. Janet’s thoughts turned panicked in a second, as her knees nearly gave way and Janet felt an incredible pain tear through her stomach. Her legs shook so violently for several seconds, she was almost worried she was having a stroke but the pain was nowhere near her heart, it was from her bladder to her asshole and she could feel it slowly opening, a long, slow, horrifically smelling fart slowly pouring out of her; accompanied by a high-pitched whine, despite her embarrassment. ‘PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFGHHHHHHH!’. Janet’s face blushed bright red and she speed-walked to the next aisle as several customers gave her dirty looks of disapproval. Janet shook heavily as she picked up the last of her items, taking them to a self-scan checkout, as she began freaking out. ‘Oh god, I’m shitting my pants! I’m shitting my pants’. It was true. Janet could feel a thick but mushy load of poo slowly slide out of her clenched bum, forced into a thick, thin stream and already, beginning to strain against her knickers. She had no idea how long it would be until the smell was noticeable to others or how long it would take to show against her trousers but she didn’t want to stay in the store long enough to find out. Janet hurriedly tried to get the last of her items through before she lost any more of her control, her body shaking, as a cashier; noticing her tense state, approached. ‘Are you okay m’am?’ he asked. ‘I’m fine, thank you’. ‘Are you sure? You look-’ he began but Janet cut him off. ‘I said I’m fine young man! Now, why don’t you get out of my way, before I have to call your manager over!’. The young man backed off apologetically, as Janet grabbed her items and slowly, began to walk out. She felt guilty for biting the man’s head off but she had no choice. Already; looking around, she could see people noticing it. ‘Oh my god!’. ‘Ugh, it stinks in here!’. ‘What the hell is that smell?’. ‘Do they ever clean these stores?’. ‘Smells like a toddler shit themselves’. Janet nearly wanted to cry at that last comment. That’s how she felt at the moment. A toddler. She hadn’t even managed to go to the store successfully without starting a major accident. God, she hadn’t felt this humiliated in a long time and, as she walked towards the store exit, she could feel her poo start to mush thickly against her trousers. Janet moaned and whimpered in horror as she stumbled back to her car, farts emanating from her backside repeatedly, as several dozen people begin to gag from the smell and watch her in disgust, seeing a growing brown stain on the back of her beige trousers. ‘That’s utterly foul!’. ‘What a pathetic old tart!’. ‘Truly vile!’. ‘What kind of disgusting old bitch shits herself in public!’. ‘Wear a diaper love!’. The last comment; shouted directly at her, made Janet began to sob with tears, as she threw herself and her shopping into the car, sat into her seat; squashing shit all over her bum and onto her car seat before she sped out of the car park, wailing in pain and humiliation, as Janet Van Dyne began to completely shit her pants. It poured out of her in huge thick strands, not stopping for a second, her asshole throbbing and beating like her racing heartbeat, as the woman cried in dismay at her ongoing accident. Piss began to flood out as well, soaking through the front of her trousers and forming a wet, sludgy puddle in her car seat; as it began to mix with the shit, before pouring over the front. Hundreds of miles away, Becky watched in fits of laughter, as the hidden cameras she’d had Kamala place in the woman’s car showed the original Wasp’s accident in HD quality. By now, a brown puddle was flowing over the car seat infrequent, messy streams, pouring down the back of Janet’s legs and into her shoes, while a series of loud farts could still be heard: ‘PFFFRRRRRRRRRRSSSHYYY’, ‘PFFFFFFFFF’, ‘PGGGHRRRRSSSSSSSS’, GRRRRFFFFFFPPPPPPHHHPPPP’. ‘Oh god please no!’ screamed Janet hysterically, speeding past several cars, sobbing in a mad fury, trying to deny the reality of her situation. Unfortunately, there was no escaping this. Janet had completely shit herself; with dozens in public seeing her, as well as wetting herself to boot, as if it hadn’t already been embarrassing enough. It was utterly humiliating and worse, Janet had no idea how she could even begin to hide this mess from her husband. Beginning to hyperventilate, Janet pulled over and parked the car in a relatively secluded spot, then tried to calm herself down from a full-blown panic attack. ‘Hank can’t see this!’ she said aloud, crying with every word. ‘He can’t’. Janet thought desperately for a solution but nothing was coming to mind. Even if she could clean the car in time before heading home, there was no getting around her clothes; half stained brown, with massive wet patches on every part, as her exhausted asshole finally stopped expelling shit, her streams of piss slowing to a few drops, before petering out. She had no change of clothes to hide her accident behind… except… ‘That’s it!’ said Janet triumphantly. Janet and Hank; ever the prepared couple, kept multiple variants of their suits in different places. They had two in different parts of their homes and; as she now remembered, one each in their car, shrunk down to the size of a cocktail sausage, hidden inside a secret compartment within the door. Grimacing as Janet moved to grab it, feeling the shit that was sludging horribly inside her panties, Janet unlocked a vial of Pym Particles, hidden inside her handbag, and used it to enlargen the Wasp suit; which formed around her body and ejected her ruined clothes in a nano-second. ‘Warning, foreign contaminants found in suit’ said a dull, robotic voice. ‘Recommendation: Purge materials from suit’. ‘Do it!’ said Janet. Her suit’s robotics then ran a gas cloud through her shit; blinding her temporarily, as she felt piss and shit go from liquid and solid into gas form, before being released from her suit in a concentrated burst of air. Janet stood in her puddle; now a huge lake from her perspective in the Wasp suit, as she looked towards it with disdain. ‘I need to get home and chance, then I’ll sort out this mess’. Shrinking the car down, Janet held it like a tiny briefcase and flew through the air, racing for home; as Becky’s video feed cut out, the signal interfered with too much by the shrinkage. ‘Clever old minx’ admitted Becky. ‘Well, these have been fun. I’ll have to get Kamala to gather more. Soon, I think it will be time for her next accident, and this time, the whole world will see what a baby she really is’. Becky began to laugh and then continued, laughing maniacally for several seconds. After a while, however, Becky stopped and felt awkward. ‘Wow, that whole evil laugh thing is overrated when you’re alone!’. TWO WEEKS LATER Michaela was getting seriously worried. The gossip had been all over twitter: Across the world, some of the world’s most famous superheroes; all female, had been suffering embarrassing accidents. A few had been leaked to TMZ of training videos, where heroes like Captain Marvel had suffered embarrassing losses of control. Some had been more public, like the famed scientist, Janet Van Dyne, caught on camera losing control in her car and at a grocery store. Yet perhaps most personally and worryingly to her, was that of Ms. Marvel’s. The young hero had been rescuing people from a bridge-fire, when she had suddenly become incredibly desperate for the toilet, piss rolling down her red and blue tights on Live TV, for all the world’s news networks to see. That; while gross, was not the truly shocking thing to Michaela. She figured that Kamala; in her eagerness not to let anyone get hurt, could have neglected going to the bathroom for a few hours. No, what alarmed her was how Kamala had then abandoned the people on the bridge; trying to find a bathroom, only to suffer a humiliating accident as half-a-dozen news choppers followed her and watched the young hero shit her pants through her enlarged butt for over four minutes straight. It was a front-page story in most countries and the ramifications had been huge. People were talking about: ‘The Great Superhero Scandal’, female heroes around the world were being grilled about nothing else but their bathroom habits in interviews and a few national governments were even talking about sanctions against female superheroes, if their powers and bodies were so volatile that they suffered accidents like this on a regular basis. Michaela didn’t believe it. None of their behaviours made sense and her suspicions had been confirmed when she received a text-message from an unknown number: ‘DIURETICS. HEROES POISONED. KAMALA KHAN. INSTIGATOR OR CATSPAW? INVESTIGATE. I AM TARGET. GOING UNDERGROUND. CALL WHEN YOU HAVE ANSWERS’. ‘What the hell did the message mean?’ thought Michaela, as she walked onto the college campus. ‘Kamala, an instigator… for what? Poisoning?! No way!’. She was certain of that last part. Kamala hadn’t left her college room for three days, after Carol Danvers stripped her of their shared mantle and told Kamala that if she ever saw her using it again, Carol would treat her no differently to any other villain. She’d been despondent since, swinging between sobs, self-hatred and general isolation, with nothing able to pull her out of it. Michaela knew there had to be more to this than Kamala being a coward and having a weak bladder at the worst possible moment. Nakia and Zoe had been acting strange too. She’d seen footage of their own accidents shared in a bunch of local Whatsapp groups, from college chats to ‘EmbarassingPublicDisplays’, a group she’d uncovered while looking into everything. Nakia losing control at protests? Zoe at shopping centres? Michaela wasn’t going to tolerate this any longer. TEN MINUTES LATER ‘What the hell is up with you three?!’ asked Michaela bluntly. Nakia and Zoe shifted awkwardly in their seats on the carpet, while Kamala; puffy-eyed from crying, just looked exhausted and resigned to everything, laying on her bed in pyjamas, clearly worn out from sleep deprivation. ‘I lost control!’ said Kamala quietly. ‘I abandoned the people because I was trying to avoid humiliating myself and instead, I just let everyone down more. I’m a failure’. ‘That wasn’t like you! Zoe, you’re normally so controlled and strong; you cringe when people do anything remotely awkward in public, yet you’re having accidents now?’. Zoe blushed, frustrated to be talking about this in front of Nakia. ‘Guess I’m not as strong as I thought I was. I hate that it’s happening but what can I do to stop it? It’s like my body’s regressed lately, okay? I don’t know what the hell is happening!’. ‘Me neither’ admitted Nakia, staring at the carpet in embarrassment. ‘I thought at first I’d been eating badly or that it was some chemicals but now… I feel like my friend’s sisters have better bladder control than me and they’re eight!’. ‘Look, can we not talk about this!’ said Kamala, exaggerated. ‘You guys know this has been happening to me for years. I just messed up too badly on the bridge. I’ve had so long to control this, you’ve been trying to help with it for ages and nothing’s worked. What’s the point of even trying?’. Michaela, Nakia and Zoe all slowly turned to stare at Kamala, giving her concerned, scared looks. Kamala felt uneasy. ‘Why are you staring?’ asked Kamala, confused. There was silence for a moment. ‘Kamala, you haven’t been having accidents for years. This all started only a few weeks ago’ said Nakia, her eyes widening in growing horror. ‘What are you on about? I’ve had this stuff since I got my powers’. ‘You’ve never mentioned that’. ‘You’ve all seen it!’. ‘No Kam, we haven’t’. A tense silence fell in the room, as Kamala looked frightened and the others looked seriously concerned. Suddenly, Zoe glanced towards something on Kamala’s desk. ‘You said you’ve been too busy with superhero stuff to go out much recently, right?’ asked Zoe, standing up. ‘Yeah, why?’. ‘What’s that?’. Kamala, Zoe, Nakia and Michaela looked towards Kamala’s desk, staring at a new laptop on her desk; the front pushed half-down, obscuring what was on the screen. ‘Oh… that… I got that ages ago’ said Kamala, though in truth, she felt uncertain of the words she was saying. The rest of her friends stood up. ‘Can we see it?’ asked Michaela, slowly approaching it regardless. ‘I’d rather you didn’t’ answered Kamala. ‘Why?’. ‘I-I’m not meant to touch it’. ‘You said it’s yours’. ‘Y-yeah, it is but… I mean… I… I… I just feel like I shouldn’t…’. ‘Kamala… what’s on that computer’ asked Nakia, now seriously scared, as all three gathered around the desk. ‘I… I…’. Tears ran down Kamala’s face, as her eyes widened in shock and she began to shake violently. ‘I don’t know’ she whispered, horrified. Michaela opened the lid of the laptop and gasped at what she saw. The others did the same, with Kamala breaking into full on sobs; recoiling in horror, while Nakia and Zoe’s expressions turned to rage. The screen was full of two dozen different live camera feeds, replaying accidents from various superheroines all over the world. Looking from video-to-video, they could see recordings of Spiderwoman wetting herself at band-practice, Janet Van Dyne losing control in her car, Jennifer Walters shitting her pinstripe suit in front of a client and dozens of other heroines; suffering a variety of accidents. ‘What the fuck, that’s us!’ screamed Zoe, as she saw the video feeds containing Nakia and Zoe’s accidents. Both blushed bright red at seeing the other’s humiliation. The two girls turned towards Kamala, grabbing and shoving her against the wall. ‘Why the fuck do you have these?! What kind of sick fuck are you?!’ screamed Zoe. ‘I thought we were your friends!’ shouted Nakia, tears streaming down her face. ‘Hey!’ shouted Michaela, getting all of their attention. ‘It’s not Kamala’s fault! Look!’. The three girls approached the laptop and gasped; Kamala being the most horrified of all. There, a video had been started by Michaela, showing Becky; her sworn nemesis, subjecting Kamala to a series of hypnotic controls. Other video feeds then showed Kamala with Nakia and Zoe, all of which demonstrated one undeniable truth to them: Lockdown had control of their minds. ‘How… how the fuck is this possible?!’ said Kamala, recoiling in horror. ‘… That night… the night we went drinking… Becky robbed a bank that night…’. ‘There’s no way we wouldn’t have tried to stop her!’. ‘Obviously, we did!’. Nakia sat down next to Kamala, tears in her eyes, while Zoe stood in front of her; looking guilty. ‘I’m sorry Kamala’ said Zoe apologetically. ‘I didn’t know she’d done this to you’. ‘I’m not angry at you’ said Kamala, dangerously quiet. ‘I’m angry at her. I’m going to kill her! I’m going to kill that bitch!’ screamed Kamala. Both Nakia and Zoe leapt back, scared at their usually calm friend’s rage, however as Kamala stood out, Michaela blocked her path to the door. ‘You can’t confront her!’ she said hurriedly. ‘I can and I will!’. ‘No, you won’t! The fact she’s able to control you means that she must have a trigger phase to do it. If you go and march to where she is; even if you find her first, all she needs to do is say the phrase and you’re her slave again!’. ‘Not if I rip her head off first’ snarled Kamala viciously. Her friends looked at one another; frightened, yet Michaela stood her ground. ‘Kamala, I know what she’s done to you is horrible-’ began Michaela. ‘-No you don’t! She made me hurt innocent people, fellow heroes, my idol!’ screamed Kamala, her whole body shaking with pain. ‘She made me turn on Captain Marvel and humiliate her! She has to pay! She has to!’. Michaela threw herself around Kamala, wrapping her into a tight hug as the young heroine collapsed; wracked by sobs, while her three friends held her tightly. After several minutes, Kamala slowly began to calm down, her crying slowly calming, until finally, Kamala sat up, looking at everyone with a tired expression. ‘What do we do then?’ asked Kamala desperately. ‘We could go to the other heroes?’ suggested Michaela. ‘That won’t work. Captain Marvel’s blacklisted me with every team and if I tell them about some hypnosis scheme, they’ll think I’m making excuses to be let back in’. ‘We could show them the laptop’ offered Nakia. ‘I doubt it’ said Michaela frustratedly. ‘Kamala’s probably got a hypnotic trigger in her if this thing even leaves the room, she’d smash it before we even got down the hall!’. ‘Hey!’ said Kamala. ‘Sorry, I mean, Becky would make you smash it’. ‘Well then what do we do?!’ asked Kamala desperately. There was silence for several moments. ‘We deprogram you’ said Michaela simply. ‘How?’ asked Nakia. ‘Without the code words, it’s going to be near-impossible’. ‘Does anyone have a better idea?’. Nobody did so the girls got to work. Sitting Kamala down, Michaela found an old pocket watch in Kamala’s draws and decided it would make a useful focal point for their commands. She then got Nakia to give Kamala a back-rub; trying to relax her, while Zoe made some hot chocolate. After a while, the tension in Kamala’s body was a little eased; though her face was still full of concern. ‘Michaela… if Becky can take control of me at any time…’. ‘Then the moment she calls, you could be under her control. Reveal what’s happening, then everything’s screwed’. ‘Then we don’t answer the call’ said Zoe. ‘We can’t afford to ignore it’ explained Michaela. ‘Lockdown would have definitely programmed Kamala to answer her calls as a priority, no matter the time. Not answering would be the same as telling her, then we’re back to square one’. ‘But she didn’t account for everything’ said Nakia. ‘We knew our behaviour wasn’t normal. Kamala thought this had been happening for years. Fake memories and experiences, right?’. Kamala nodded; disgusted. ‘Then, why weren’t we programmed like that?’. Michaela thought about it for several moments, then laughed bitterly. ‘She’s lazy’ said Michaela. ‘You two don’t always fight with Kamala do you, you were just helping her take down Becky, right?’. Nakia and Zoe nodded uncertainly. ‘I guess so’ said Zoe. ‘I still can’t remember it but I know that before, we haven’t been with Kamala regularly in fights’. ‘Exactly!’ said Michaela. ‘She wasn’t expecting you. She’s a petty asshole and a bitch, so when you were there, she put in the programming so she could humiliate you but she was careless. Lazy. She didn’t even bother to make it seem normal to you both, just figured you wouldn’t tell the difference’. ‘Oh that bitch!’ said Nakia, insulted despite everything. ‘We need to get started’ said Michaela hurriedly. ‘Becky might call in five hours or five minutes. We have to start now’. So, Michaela got to work, sliding the watch in front of Kamala’s face multiple times, as she began a countdown. ‘Follow the watch Kamala. Let it relax you. You can feel yourself getting sleepier and sleepier. Now, as I count down from 5, you’re going to slip deeper and deeper into a rest, that will turn into a sleep, where you will hear only what I say’. Kamala felt her eyes drifting, the watch going in and out of focus, as the hypnotic trance began to take over. ‘Feel yourself slowly drifting off to sleep, as you feel the relaxation increase with each number… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… you are now in a deep, relaxed sleep, totally asleep, only aware of my voice’. Kamala was snoring heavily; sitting in her chair, her shoulders and head slumped, awaiting commands from Michaela. ‘Now then Kamala… I want you to picture the words and controls, buried deep in your mind, that Lockdown put there. I want you to feel those words slowly ease out of your subconscious as I count down from 5-1’. ‘5… 4…. 3… 2… 1… let the words disappear from your mind!’. ‘PRFFFFFFFFFFFFFPHHHHHHHHHHHHRRRRRRRRRRRSSSSSSSSSSSSS’. Kamala let rip an enormous, putrid fart, enlarging her ass to the size of a sofa cushion on each side, as her dark blue pyjama bottoms ripped open, exposing her ass to Nakia and Zoe. Both couldn’t help but laugh in shock, while Michaela stared; frustrated. ‘Shut up, both of you!’. Michaela took a deep breath and focussed. She had to figure out how to do this, for her friends; as well as the countless others who could be hurt by Becky’s schemes if she wasn’t stopped. The damage already done had been serious. There were more supervillain attacks than ever and less people trusted their heroes to protect them, when female heroines; once considered pillars of strength, were pissing and shitting themselves like little girls half-way through fights. She had to find a way to stop this and she would not give up. ‘Kamala, as I count down from five, you will feel your mind reject any previous commands it has been given. You will feel them slip from your subconscious, rise through your brain and vanish, easing out of your body, like tension in a muscle’. Kamala remained still, as Zoe and Nakia watched silently. ‘5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Release!’. Kamala Khan did release… another enormous and loud fart, enlarging her butt so much that she became unstable in the chair and tipped over, the sudden shock waking her up in a panic, as Zoe and Nakia moved to help her up. ‘Ugh… what happened?’. Michaela slapped her head to her forehead. ‘I can’t get the hypnotic triggers out!’ she said frustratedly. ‘Becky’s are too deep. We need more time to figure out an answer’. ‘But we don’t have more time!’ said Kamala desperately. ‘She could call at any moment!’. ‘I know!’. Michaela thought hard about what to do. They needed time but the moment Becky called, Kamala would end up back in a trance. She would give them away… unless… ‘Kamala, get back in that chair, quickly! I have an idea that will buy us more time!’. ‘What do you mean?’. ‘We need to figure out how to undo the hypnotic programming. I can’t do that without testing it on others first and to do that, you can’t tell Becky what we’ve learned’. ‘Well, how are you going to stop me?’ asked Kamala impatiently, scared Becky might call at any moment. ‘We need to hide your memories’. Zoe and Nakia looked at each other, confused. Kamala was for a moment but then she realised. ‘You want to…’. ‘Put you back in a trance and hide away your memories of learning this, yeah. If you can’t remember it, you can’t tell Becky’ explained Michaela. Kamala sat silent for a few seconds. ‘Mike’ she whispered, sounding afraid. ‘I don’t want to do this. I don’t want her to control me’. Michaela walked over and hugged Kamala, holding the trembling hero. ‘I know… but if you don’t, I can’t see another way to stop her. Can you?’ asked Michaela. Kamala thought about it for a few moments, then shook her head. ‘Alright. Let’s do it’. THE NEXT DAY ‘Alright, we only have a few hours until we re-awaken Kamala and we need to practice with this guys, come on!’ said Michaela firmly, as Nakia and Zoe prepared for another practice run. Michaela’s plan for Kamala had worked. She had successfully programmed Kamala to hide away the memories of the past several hours, replacing them with false-memories of reviewing the video-feeds for Becky, while implanting a trigger word: ‘Bravery’, that would restore her memories; though only when spoken by Michaela, or Zoe and Nakia as a backup in case an emergency happened. Now, they were practicing to see what they could understand of the hypnosis on their own. The results so far had not been promising. Since they knew that Becky had been sloppy with Zoe and Nakia, they decided that trying to deprogram one of them as practice for Kamala would be a good first step. Unfortunately, while Michaela had made them obey some basic commands, she needed to get them into a deep trance if she was going to have any hope of achieving the same thing with Kamala. Since it was a hot day, Michaela had stripped down to a dark red vest top and thin blue jeans, while Nakia wore a green sleeveless shirt and dark red jeans, with Zoe wearing a white crop top and black jeans. All three were sweating from the heat and nerves as they prepared for things to get serious. ‘Okay… who wants to go first?’. Zoe looked towards Nakia and saw that her friend looked uncomfortable. Though she would never admit it, Zoe had a major crush on Nakia and ironically, Nakia felt exactly the same way towards Zoe. Wanting to put her more at ease; as well as wanting to impress her, Zoe stepped forwards. ‘I’ll do it’. ‘Okay, let’s do this’. Michaela began to swing the pocket watch; a more detailed golden one she had brought from her home, as Nakia dimmed the lights. Feeling herself becoming more and more drowsy, Zoe was soon under the hypnotic trance and Michaela considered what kind of scenario she could make her run through as a test. Meanwhile, though Nakia was blushing as she realised it, the sight of Zoe in a hypnotic state turned her on. The way she stood there; motionless, completely at their mercy, it made naughty thoughts run through her head. She felt her nipples harden as she imagined walking over to Zoe, rubbing their bodies together, kissing her, sliding her hands through her soft hair and over her body, inside those tight trousers and sliding her fingers deep into Zoe’s- ‘-Nakia, any ideas?’. ‘Huh? Oh, yeah… ugh… let’s make her a gassy pop singer. Let’s see what happens’. ‘Um… okay’ said Michaela, slightly weirded out by the suggestion but going with it anyway. ‘Zoe, as I countdown from 5, you will awaken as a famous pop singer. You are giving a live performance to an audience of thousands of fans, yet you badly have to fart and won’t be able to stop. Everytime you do… you’ll be immensely embarrassed but keep performing anyway’. Nakia stared into Zoe’s eyes; her own full of arousal, as she looked over her friend in this intimate state of vulnerability. ‘5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Awaken!’. ‘Hi everyone!’ said Zoe, in a voice far higher and enthusiastic than her normal tone. ‘I am literally so excited to be here, let’s get the music going!’. Nakia and Michaela stared at each other incredulously; before beginning to laugh uncontrollably, as Zoe broke into song: I heard you're feeling nothing's going right
Why don't you let me stop by?
The clock is ticking, running out of time
So we should party, all night So cover your eyes, I have a surprise As Nakia and Michaela began to calm down, a loud fart ripped from out of Zoe’s backside; causing the young woman to blush Scarlett red and clutch her bum, yet she didn’t stop singing, even as the smell of morning Nutella toast and orange juice came out through her butt as a putrid, eye-watering smell. 
I hope you got a healthy appetite
If you wanna dance, if you want it all
You know that I'm the girl that you should call Another loud fart ripped from Zoe’s bum, causing her to dance desperately on the spot; as she held her anus, with neither Nakia or Michaela sure if this was hypnotised or real desperation. Nevertheless, she continued singing and began pointing towards Nakia. Girl, when you're with me
I'll give you a taste
Make it like your birthday everyday
I know you like it sweet
So you can have your cake
Give you something good to celebrate Nakia blushed redder than a tomato, as Michaela smiled smugly at them. ‘The lyric is boy, not girl’ whispered Nakia. ‘Yep’ confirmed Michaela. ‘That must just be her’. ‘Shut up’ said Nakia, though she was breathing heavily now, which only got more rapid as Zoe approached her and began shaking her body inches from Nakia, her boobs shaking loosely in the spacious crop top. So make a wish
I'll make it like your birthday everyday
I'll be your gift
Give you something good to celebrate Pop your confetti
Pop your Pérignon
So hot and heavy, 'til dawn
I got you spinning
Like a disco ball
 Nakia’s legs were shaking with excitement as she stared towards Zoe, her eyes fluttering between her friend’s breasts and face, their lips only inches from each other, as Zoe sung. ‘Zoe… awaken!’ said Michaela. Nakia was immensely disappointed as Zoe awoke and; realising how close she was, recoiled back several ft. ‘Damn girl, what did you hypnotise me to do, be a lesbian?!’ joked Zoe, blushing at how close she and Nakia had been. ‘Nope’ said Michaela smugly. ‘Just to fart and sing’. There was a tense, sexual silence in the room for several seconds. ‘Alright Nakia… you’re up!’ said Michaela. Nakia went under the hypnosis even faster than Zoe did, her head slumped forwards; asleep and standing, as Zoe admired her crush in this state. She had to admit, it felt intimate, exposing and hot, though the next command from Michaela made the feelings even stronger. ‘Nakia… fart!’. A loud, vicious smelling gas blew from Nakia’s bum as Zoe’s eyes widened, somehow finding the sight of this incredibly arousing. Even the smell didn’t disturb her as much as she thought it should and she could feel her light blue panties underneath her jeans beginning to get damp, as she bit her lip in pleasure. ‘Again!’. Zoe had to supress a moan as Nakia let out another putrid fart, with Zoe’s panties going from damp to thoroughly wet, as she clamped her legs together, hugely enjoying the sight of Nakia so submissive, yet dirty; filthy, and depraved. She’d never felt so turned on by something so unorthodox. She wasn’t sure if she could handle Michaela giving the command again without losing control of herself in a way she wasn’t quite ready for. ‘Wait, Michaela-’ she began but it was too late. ‘Awaken!’. To her relief; yet also disappointment, Nakia’s eyes fluttered open and her normal conscious returned. Both Nakia and Zoe stared at each other for a long while, both aroused by the experience, as Michaela looked on, amused. ‘You two look happy’ she said suggestively. Both girls became defensive. ‘It’s just the programming!’. ‘Yeah, whatever that sick fuck Becky’s done to us, she’s messed with our heads’. ‘Absolutely!’. ‘Totally’. ‘Yep!’ ‘Yep!’. Michaela raised one eyebrow. ‘Uh-huh. Well anyway, that’s a start. Let’s see what else I can figure out’. For the next few hours, Michaela worked tirelessly to test the hypnotic effects on both women and see what she could undo, restrict, replace or limit, with some promising results. She found that she could restrict Zoe’s chances of wetting herself by making her senses more heightened as she grew desperate, while removing some of the psychological barriers preventing her from using public and private toilets sooner. For Nakia, she was able to trigger constipation in her whenever she was about to shit her pants, giving the young woman a few extra minutes to find a toilet while she was backed up. At which point, Michaela had placed a new trigger that wiped the old conditioning from her mind; relative to this condition, allowing her to shit in peace. Unfortunately, the results were still limited. To get even that, Zoe had made her way through three pairs of Kamala’s stretchy trousers, wetting herself twice by mistake and once while waiting for new hypnotic triggers to be implemented by Michaela. Nakia had suffered similar accidents, four pairs of trousers covered in the young woman’s shit and was not keen to suffer anymore with further experimentation. Michaela sighed. It wasn’t enough to de-program Zoe and Nakia; let alone Kamala. ‘We need to re-awaken her. We can’t make Kamala wait any longer, it’s not fair to her. We have to find a way to apprehend Betty, despite the hypnosis’. ‘How?’ asked Nakia. ‘Well, we can turn her to our side now, I’m sure of it. I could put her in a trance that makes her fight for us’ said Michaela hopefully. ‘Yeah but without removing Becky’s triggers, she’ll just get Kamala back on her side. You’ll both speak gobbledegook at her for ages, then just pull at her mind in an endless loop and that doesn’t do us any good either’ insisted Zoe. The three girls looked sullen for a while, until Michaela suddenly sat up, a brain wave hitting her. ‘Zoe, what did you just say? Repeat it!’. ‘Uh, you’ll pull at her mind in an endless loop?’. ‘No, no, before that!’. ‘You’ll speak gobbledegook at her for ages!’. Michaela leapt to her feet, ecstatic. ‘That’s it!’. THREE HOURS LATER ‘Bravery!’. Kamala gasped in horror, her memories flooding back to her, as Michaela held her still. ‘Kamala, it’s okay, we’re here, we’re here, it’s alright! We think we’ve got it!’ ‘You can get rid of the programming?!’ said Kamala excitedly. ‘Well… no’. ‘Then how exactly have you ‘Got it’ said Kamala sarcastically. ‘We need to test a theory and if it works, we might just bring her down’. ‘What’s that?’. ‘We need to hypnotise you again’. ‘… Okay’ said Kamala reluctantly. ‘To be a chicken’. ‘What?’. ‘Just trust me. Please?’. Kamala; baffled by the suggestion, was still desperate for anything that would let her escape Becky’s hypnotic control and so, she trusted her friend. ‘Okay… let’s try it’. Within a few minutes, Michaela had put Kamala into a deep trance, standing frozen and slumped forwards, as Michaela relayed the instructions. ‘Kamala, as I count down from five, you’ll begin to feel more like a chicken with every passing second. When I say ‘Transform’, you will become a chicken upon hearing that word and will behave and act like one in every way. Human language will no longer make sense to you and you will only snap out of your trance if you hear one of us three do this whistle’. Michaela let out a low pitch whistle sound. ‘During this state, no human language will make sense to you from anybody; you will be completely unable to understand it. No human language will make sense to you, you will be completely unable to understand it. Now then, let’s begin’. ‘5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Transform!’. Kamala felt herself instantly disappear and suddenly, she felt as free and worriless as a bird, her thoughts reduced to simple meanings and desires, as she looked around herself for food. ‘Food, I want food, food, corn, corn, must find corn, hmmmm, where’s the corn?’ thought Kamala, smiling as she clucked about. Her friends saw Kamala instantly began acting like a chicken, pecking her bed with her mouth, as she began flapping her arms at Zoe and Nakia, who moved out of her way; dismayed at their friend’s behaviour. Michaela grabbed the laptop and began playing an audio file, where Becky’s voice could be heard: ‘Kamala… burp!’. The words had no effect on Kamala. Grinning, Michaela gave the whistle and Kamala stopped chewing on her blanket, spitting out the silk and looking extremely annoyed. ‘Well… how did that help?’ asked Kamala, annoyed. Michaela pressed the laptop button again. ‘Kamala… burp!’. Kamala let out a rousingly loud burp, grimacing in disgust afterwards, though Nakia, Zoe and Michaela looked delighted. ‘What?’ asked Kamala, confused. ‘Kamala, Becky wasn’t just lazy… she was stupid! She just gave us the tools for her downfall!’. Kamala slowly began to grin as they explained it and; ready for a fight, grabbed her Ms. Marvel costume. Lockdown was going to pay. ONE HOUR LATER Becky was sitting in an office chair, laughing at the videos Kamala had provided when suddenly, there was a loud banging at the door. Turning instantly, the door was blown off its hinges a second later and Kamala; fully costumed, stormed inside with Zoe, Nakia and Michaela close behind her. ‘Becky, it’s over!’ shouted Kamala. Becky smiled, walking from her office towards the four. ‘Aww, look at the would-be-heroes’ said Becky patronisingly. ‘I guess you had the sense to figure something out but not enough to think of this. Kamala… obey!’. Kamala’s whole body suddenly went from a fight-stance to a passive one in the blink of an eye, as she slowly walked over to stand beside Becky. ‘You didn’t think of that, did you little heroes?’. Michaela smiled. ‘Actually, we did… Kamala, transform!’. Suddenly, Kamala began clucking and pecking at and around Becky’s feet, as the villainess looked at her incredulously, before shoving her onto her back. ‘Is that supposed to be funny?’ said Becky, laughing in dismay. ‘You’ve made her a passive chicken with a counter command?! You idiots! I have an override command that can blot out yours!’. ‘Kamala… supreme!’. Kamala did not respond, happily pecking at her shoes, as Becky gasped in dismay. ‘Kamala… supreme! Supreme! Supreme! Obey me!’. ‘She can’t’ explained Zoe. ‘She can’t understand human language. Becky looked at them fearfully. ‘That means she can’t understand your commands. It’s over!’ ordered Michaela. Becky drew a pistol from her waistband, pointing it towards Michaela. ‘Like hell it is!’. Before she could fire, an arrow knocked the weapon out of her hands; causing Becky to yelp in surprise. ‘Don’t bother trying to shout commands at Kate either’ said Nakia, cracking her knuckles. ‘She’s got headphones in. She won’t hear you’. Becky stared at them fearfully, as the three girls ran forward and before she could respond, simultaneously leapt forward. ‘This is for our friend!’. The three ‘would-be-heroes’ punched Becky in the stomach simultaneously, making her scream in immense pain, as she was badly winded, collapsing to the ground on her knees. As she struggled to breath, Lockdown felt a warm sensation spreading through her panties and down into her trousers, as she tried to scream in rage. ‘No…’ she gasped. ‘I… can’t… hold it!’. Rebecca St. Jude, Becky, Lockdown, the hypnotist, the aspiring super-villainess, the bitch… began to completely wet herself, soaking her tight, waist high blue jeans, a thick wet-patch expanding across them as she let out an enormous fart, which; moments later, turned out to be the prelude to her shitting her pants as well. Becky tried to moan in pain and horror but still had too little breath, as thick, crusty shit poured into her jeans and formed a horrendous smell around her. ‘God Becky, that reeks, what have you been eating here?’ asked Michaela, laughing. ‘I… I’m not like you people… I don’t have accidents… I’m not a baby… I’m…’. ‘… Live to the whole world!’ said Zoe enthusiastically. ‘That secret camera you gave Kamala in the scarf sure is nifty! The broadcasting range is incredible!’. Becky managed to gasp in horror as she realised Nakia was wearing that exact scarf and; in the distance, she could hear the sound of police vehicles and S.H.I.E.L.D. approaching. Unable to comprehend her defeat and shame, Becky passed out, her face slamming hard against the floor, as the three girls winced in pain. ‘Ouch!’ said Michaela, before whistling to restore Kamala, who blinked back into consciousness and; seeing a collapsed Becky, smiled. ‘It’s over’ said Michaela, smiling. A FEW MINUTES LATER Kamala, Zoe, Nakia, and Michaela walked out of the building as Lockdown was led away; bruised and handcuffed, by several angry heroines, escorting her personally to The Raft. As they watched her be taken away, Kamala looked sad, as the others looked at her; confused. ‘You okay?’ asked Nakia. ‘I… I don’t know’ answered Kamala honestly. ‘We stopped her but only after weeks of all this happening. If I didn’t mess up in the first place, none of this would have happened’. ‘Kamala, you can’t blame yourself!’ protested Michaela. ‘Without you being brave enough to risk going back in there, this could have gone on for months; even years’. ‘I know but still… you all suffered as much as I did. I feel like I could have done more’ said Kamala sadly. ‘Spoken like a true hero’. The four women looked up, to see Captain Marvel floating down in-front of them. ‘C-Carol, I-I mean, Captain!’ saluted Kamala, before putting her hand down; realizing how weird that looked. ‘I know what you said about not using your moniker, I swear, we didn’t go in wearing your colours and we only went in to stop Lockdown. I swear, I’ll never do that aga-’. Kamala was interrupted from her babbling by Carol pulling her into a tight hug, as Kamala and the others gasped in shock. ‘Is this a dream?’ asked Kamala, disbelievingly. ‘This better not be another hypnotic illusion’. ‘I think we’ve all had enough of those’ said Carol smiling, as their hug broke apart. ‘Kamala, I am so sorry. When I saw you abandon those people on the bridge, I didn’t even stop to think that you might have been going through things I couldn’t see and I threw my crap onto you. You know the hypnosis impacted me and I was a jerk. I judged you in the moment, not for everything else I’ve seen you do, not for the kind of stuff you did today. You took on a supervillain while under severe mental stress; without backup, because I left you high and dry’. Captain Marvel knelt down before Kamala, who was staring at Carol with tears in her eyes. ‘Kamala, you were a true hero today. All of you were. As far as I’m concerned, you can all use the moniker anytime you want. Today, you showed me what it means to live up to that; even when no one believes in you. Kamala, today… you were more worthy of the name Captain Marvel than I was. I hope; if you still want it, that you wear the Ms. Marvel name with distinction. There’s no one who deserves it more than you today. Not even me’. Tears rolled down Kamala’s face freely as she threw herself around Carol, sobbing with happiness, as the older hero held her affectionately. The others joined the hug and they held each other close, as Captain Marvel and the four young women celebrated the victory, a moment of joy and peace, after a long period of darkness. ‘Come on, let’s get you four something to eat… there’s a lot of people who want to thank you!’. EPILOGUE Kamala Khan’s blacklisting from all superhero organizations was immediately lifted after the exposure of Rebecca St. Jude’s hypnosis schemes. Following glowing recommendations from Captain Marvel and a dozen other heroes, Ms. Marvel was inducted into the Avengers and became one of their most acclaimed new heroes. She appeared; in a limited capacity, on a number of talk shows and news station interviews to further expose Lockdown’s lies, restoring the credibility of dozens of female heroes across the world. Two years later; due to her experiences at the hands of ‘Lockdown’, Kamala Khan was successfully able to resist the effects of an interstellar psychic entity and led the Avengers counter-attack against it, saving the earth from a world-ending invasion. In time, her fame and popularity grew to rival some of the most iconic superhero members of the Avengers, leading to increased tolerance towards ethnic minorities globally; something Kamala took immense pride in. Captain Marvel’s issues were eliminated by Charles Xavier, wiping the hypnotic triggers from her subconscious. Afterward, she spent several months on earth, regularly fighting alongside Kamala Khan, leading to both becoming close friends. One day; many years later, Kamala would ask Carol Danvers to be the godmother to her firstborn child, a request she gladly accepted. Michaela, Nakia, and Zoe all experienced a brief period of global fame after their discovery of the ‘Lockdown Hypno-Crisis’. During this time, they were rewarded danger-money settlements by the Avengers, compensating each of them $200,000 for their actions in stopping Rebecca St. Jude. Nakia and Zoe decided to go on a year-long holiday to Europe, during which time, they began a romantic relationship. Since returning to the United States, they have been living together in a shared apartment. Zoe does amateur modelling; though occasionally volunteers at a local homeless shelter, while Nakia started her own charity: TeenChange, an organization which became a powerful force in helping to tackle Cyberbullying, Domestic Abuse, and Addiction in the under 20’s age bracket. Michaela was offered a private position working as a criminal investigator for Jennifer Walters AKA She-Hulk. Taking the offer, Michaela has helped uncover more than a dozen criminal operations and later played a part in the arrest and imprisonment of Wilson Fisk, leading to her briefly becoming a target; causing her to leave the mainland United States for six months. Upon returning, she continued her work and remains there to this day. Rebecca St. Jude AKA Lockdown was taken to court and found guilty of numerous crimes, including robbery, arson, gross bodily harm, multiple counts of attempted murder, and a dozen counts of enhanced coercion, and was sentenced to thirty-eight years in ‘The Raft’. Unfortunately; due to a breakout by Dr. Octopus several months later, Lockdown was able to also evade imprisonment and is now on the run. Due to her advanced hypnotic skill, she is currently being hunted by highly trained, anti-telepath & hypnosis agents, working on behalf of the FBI. Her location remains unknown. Jennifer Walters; among many other Marvel heroines, was cleared from most of the public humiliation after the truth of the hypnosis scandal came out. To her eternal annoyance, her client still chose to pursue justice through Nelson, Murdock & Page, a fact which still annoys her to no end. Janet Van Dyne was greatly relieved to learn that it was not old age causing her body to so dramatically fail in many instances. Even so, the events left Janet troubled; worried that she had so easily been convinced to fear her own husband’s rebuke. After several weeks of heated arguments, the two went to a private marriage counsellor and; despite teething issues, such as Hank Pym shrinking the therapist’s office during one meeting in annoyance, the two have been making steady emotional progress. Kate Bishop received no glory for her role in exposing the hypnosis crisis, which was just how she preferred it. Two months afterward, she and Clint Barton; the original Hawkeye, were sent on a mission by S.H.I.E.L.D. to assassinate the legendary assassin: Taskmaster. The results of this mission remain classified. Gwen Stacy AKA Spiderwoman has been working to better control her new powers and has begun a; very long distance, relationship with Miles Morales. She can only stay in his universe for a few hours at a time but it is increasing with training and it is her hope that; one day, there will be no limit. Research into her cells may also crack the secret to permanently unlocking travel throughout the multiverse. Once Lockdown was arrested, Carol Danvers took the four young heroes to a diner, where dozens of female superheroes had gathered, to express their immense gratitude. During this, the heroes decided that; not wanting to allow Lockdown to permanently ruin something which was meant to only be used for light fun, they would have a hypnosis show in the diner. Michaela; having been the one able to do some basic deprogramming, was the one called upon to do it and the heroes had an excellent time, as the young heroes willingly subjected themselves to hypnosis, this time as it should be: From their own free will. THE DINER – POST CREDIT SCENE 😉 Kamala, Zoe, Nakia and Gwen Stacy stood on stage, waiting nervously, as Michaela walked on; now wearing a magician’s cape, leant to her by an actual sorceress, which all of them thought was pretty damn awesome. They’d asked Kate Bishop if she’d wanted to take part and her response of throwing a drink in their faces had seemed conclusive enough as to an answer. As such, Kate watched from the crowd; laughing, as the four women stepped forward. ‘Heroes of the world! Watch as I now turn these four women into chickens but not through the power of shapeshifting! Merely, the power of persuasion!’ said Michaela dramatically. Swinging a gold-chain pocket watch in front of the four women, she snapped her fingers and the lights were dimmed; causing each of the four members on stage to only be able to concentrate on what was immediately in-front of them, exposing them quicker to the effects of hypnosis. Slowly, all four women began to sway on their feet: Kamala first; as the most heavily programmed beforehand, therefore the most at risk. Zoe went second, closely followed by Nakia. Gwen fought it for a little while longer but slowly, the slow ticking, the intense lights and the soothing calm of Michaela’s voice sent her straight into hypnotic sleep. ‘Now, I shall need help from you, my loving audience!’ said Michaela, flourishing her cape; as the other heroines laughed. ‘We shall all count down from ten and as we do, you four will feel our voices echoing in every part of your mind. As we count down from 10-1, you will feel less human and more like chickens with each passing second. You will forget social protocol, you will forget yourselves and become only chickens, until I say and the audience say the word, Excelsior! Now, let us begin the countdown. The superheroes all chanted in unison: ’10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Chickens!’. Instantly, Kamala, Nakia, Gwen and Zoe and began to cluck, peck the floor and flap their wings on stage, making strange clucking and ‘Cuckoo!’ noises, as the other heroines burst out with laughter. Kamala pecked at Nakia’s shoes as if eating corn, while Zoe and Nakia flapped their wings at each other; trying to intimidate the other into moving out of their path. Gwen’s were particularly hilarious, her spider-abilities combining with the hypnosis to cause her to start walking in chicken form up the wall; clucking as she went. Fairly soon, she was walking on the ceiling upside, sticking to the wall with her spider abilities, yet flapping her arms and pecking as if a chicken, while the heroes below laughed and prepared to catch her if she fell. ‘Alright everyone! All together now, it’s time to restore them. 3… 2… 1…’. ‘Excelsior!’. Kamala stopped pecking at her shoes and leaned up in dismay, before blushing at her own actions, while Nakia and Zoe stopped head-butting each other and flapping their arms for dominance. Gwen fell from the ceiling but her spider-human reflexes allowed her to land perfectly and she did a bow after her recovery landing, while all of them received applause. ‘Thank you very much everyone!’ said Michaela, giving a bow to the audience, as the other girls did with her. ‘Thank you and goodnight!’. THE END
  8. sliplover

    SKOT-08

    1,699 downloads

    SKOT-08 as a single file, from rayheng05's thread.
    Free
  9. After the celebratory party they had after locating the Scepter. Bruce Banner, Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, Black Widow, Hawkeye, War Machine, and Maria Hill were having some quiet time, joking around, having fun, and trying to lift Thor's Hammer. After a while, a beat up robotic soldier of the Iron Legion came limping in, rambling about how they're all puppets on strings. Then the robot, who identified himself as Ultron (An AI designed to save the world when the Avengers weren't around, created by Tony Stark and Bruce Banner.), sent in the rest of the beat up and tattered Iron Legion to see what the Avengers were made of. Tony summoned his suit, Thor picked up his hammer, Captain America grabbed his shield, and Hawkeye equipped his bow and arrow, and to battle they went. Thor was whacking the baddies with his hammer, Cap was throwing his shield, Hawkeye was firing his arrows, and Maria Hill was shooting her gun, which was basically useless against these machines. Maria Hill kept shooting, but one of the robots kept advancing, she tried to contain her fear, to control it. She felt this sudden urge to pee, a spasm in her bladder. She kept shooting and shooting, but the robot wouldn't go down. Her need to pee worsened, it wasn't getting any better with the fear she was feeling. The robot was now only a few feet in front of her. Hill gave up, her dam broke, and hot urine filled her panties, streaming and trickling down her leg. Hissing could be heard, but only by her, for the battle was too loud for the others to hear it. A puddle was increasing in size around her. The robot was now in her face, Hill was backing up, now stepping out of the puddle. This is it. She thought, This is how I die. But the robot stepped in the puddle of pee and electrocuted and fell to the ground. Coping that she was given another chance, Hill took the time to examine the damage done to her panties. She was wearing a red dress. There was a small wet patch, but nothing she couldn't hide from her teammates. The battle was done, the robots were defeated. "Well that was dramatic." Ultron said. Iron Man destroyed the current body that Ultron was in. But Ultron was everywhere, Ultron is not dead for good. Tony sniffed. "What's that smell?" He asked, "It smells like urine. Did somebody lose control? Don't worry, I always lose control. My suit has a filtration system. You can drink it by now." Hill was turning red real fast, and everybody noticed. "Was it you?" Cap asked. Embarrassed, Hill nodded her head. "It's okay." Cap said sympathetically. "We all have our days... right guys?" Cap turned to the rest of the team and gave them a look. "Oh... yeah, of course." They all said in unison. "Thanks, guys." She said, walking away. "I'm gonna go change." And she did just that. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This was my first omo-story... I hope you guys enjoyed. Chapter 2 is coming soon, so don't worry. Please leave your honest opinions... thank you.
  10. I started watching The Boys, the new Amazon series adapting a rather brutal comic that I remember reading quite a bit of back when I had more time to read comics. In the series, it depicts a world where superheroes are real, extremely powerful, and a part of the social/celebrity world. That is to say, heroes may have the power to save people, but a lot of what they do is for the sake of their public image, merchandising, and helping their own bottom line. Anyone who has a stomach for some gore, and likes deconstructions of the superhero genre (which isn't exactly uncommon these days) would probably do well to give it a try. Either way, I watched a few episodes today to get some inspiration. I'm a fan of stories with people who have some powers or another. I have a short series about monsterboys, and one set in a rather Urban Fantasy setting inspired by World/Chronicle of Darkness. I like those types of stories, where unexpected physiology, or powers, or situations can lead to lewdness. I don't think it is any surprise that most Urban Fantasy tends to have baked in romance elements. Monstergirls/boys are just great, and deep down a lot of people want to see them get it on. I'm not going to fight that, since I'm also one of those people. Back to superheroes, there are a lot of ways I could see taking a superhero story. The range of powers that a superhero can have may as well be infinite. For omorashi though? there are a few that instantly came to mind. A common quirk of speedsters in comic books is that their 'metabolism' is dialed to 11. Having the Flash eating at all times, or needing snack breaks to keep up the nutrients to maintain their powers. The assumption of course is that all of that extra energy is burned off while they are doing their heroics. Plus, you know, in a comic no one has to stop for a whizz unless it is a quick one panel joke (I'm sure there are exceptions that people could point out to me). It makes me think about how I heard from someone that though they stay hydrated, Nascar drivers don't need piss breaks because their cars are so hot that their body dries out. I think that is BS, but I don't know enough to refute it (nor care enough about Nascar to look it up). But we do know that normal people who are super active don't tend to burn through so much that they don't have... accidents. Marathon runners are a little famous for their accidents, and if you just google a few marathon blogs they will give you long talks about how great it feels to piss yourself during the run. No really, it is mind-blowing. Worse happens too, a few 'brown showers', if you will. When you are that deep into a run, and get that 'runner's high' that shocks your body with fight or flight style adrenaline, I have to imagine that your body does the natural thing and tries to void any excess weight and worries. That means that your wee goes bye bye. So maybe a speedster's body can burn through all that water, but other supers that need to consume a lot, maybe not. In the popular series, Invincible, there is a female character who has to eat a ton because her body burns the calories for her abilities (or some other pseudo-science). There was the realization that because of how much she eats, she goes to the bathroom a ton. While exciting for me, I'm sure it was mostly played as a joke or for the squick factor. Later she decided to stop using her powers, and it lead to a ton of weight gain. I'm sure Robert Kirkman has no secret fetishes he is trying to hide. Point is, here is an example of a non-speedster character that has 'metabolism and burning energy' as a part of their power set, and therefore could find themselves in a potty emergency just based on that alone. Another good one is Momo from Boku no Hero Academia, whose powers burn the 'lipids' or fatty acids in her body. So because of that, if she hasn't taken in enough food, she will exhaust herself, and faint when trying to use her powers. Of course, Momo is fetish bait enough (and also underaged, so no more talk about her for now). Of course, there doesn't need to be an excuse to get a hero into a potty emergency. As long as they don't have some kind of super sphincters, they will always be in danger of human biological urges. It was more me brainstorming possibilities to make a problem recursive. That is a problem with me, I can't really make a story in a series with chapters if logically a character wouldn't find themselves in a situation over and over. If I pissed myself, I would be using the bathroom every five minutes for the next year, just to avoid it ever happening again. I know that, because I've lived it. But more important than why a superhero would be in a potty emergency is what the audience gains from it. I'm a huge fan of the humiliation factor in omorashi, in fact I would say that it is key in why I like it (I can write a fair bit about the merging fetishes that create what we consider the 'omorashi' fetish. It would be a bunch of me BSing, but I could still write a lot about it). It doesn't need to be in front of a bunch of people, anyone even, but if the character isn't humiliated by the incident then there isn't much point for me. Since my primary audience is always myself first, that means that humiliation of the hero needs to be key. Which brings me to 'Don't meddle with my daughter', aka Uchi no Musume ni Te o Dasu na! An ecchi comic about a superheroine called 8th wonder who quit the business because she had a child. The series was a treasure trove of humiliation stories (though none of them Omo), and the key factor was that in the real world, just being a superhero doesn't mean that you aren't going to end up in degrading situations. Every.single.fight that 8th wonder gets into, someone manages to burn away her costume, fondle her, or worse. On top of that, she happens to have a super powered sex drive (because she is an amazon like Wonder Woman) that requires her to have HEAVY DUTY sex toys to satisfy herself. The book was fun, and you should give it a read if you just want something light and funny in the same vein as Boku no Hero Academia. I love the idea of a superheroine who by virtue of her abilities, or just because she is always called to action at bad moments, ends up in desperate situations quite often. I'm less a fan of the idea of big drag out monster fights where she is pissing herself in the middle (I'm not too big on fear wetting. It is a sometimes food), but using The Boys as inspiration, it is entirely possible that it is less the big fights and crime fighting that leads to her wetting herself, and more the social life around it. Maybe she mostly ends up having accidents in front of her fellow heroes, people she is saving, or during public events. Maybe it starts to tarnish her image, but she knows that she can't help it, and gets talked to about how that is just one of the 'sacrifices she must make for the greater good'. It still isn't the best excuse, as I'm sure there is some anti-diuretic that could solve her issue in one story. Still, it is something to start thinking about, and could be interesting for a future story. A few thoughts as I stop writing this: If you like public accidents, there are a lot of pictures of female weight lifters pissing themselves. I'm surprised The Boys is as quality as it is, I should give Amazon video more chances. Maybe a series of stories with different related heroines would also work, handcraft a superpiss-verse.
  11. Kara was incredible at what she did. As Supergirl, she could lift planes with just her two hands, fly anywhere she wanted, save people day after day and so on and so forth - and all the while maintain a somewhat normal life, except not really. All that power aside - Kara Danvers was kind of ticklish. That's how she would put it, when she had to admit it at least, especially at a time like this. "Lena! Stop!" Kara yelled out as Lena tickled her sides just a little. As much as she didn't want anybody to know, she had a kind of another secret life. Every now and then, she'd invite Lena Luthor over to her cozy little apartment and submit to her. Something about Lena's natural dominance made Kara want to do anything Lena said. "You're just really cute when you squirm in that new suit," Lena smiled a little bit evil. "I told you, I'm just kind of ticklish!" Kara rolled her eyes. "Kind of? I really think you're more than kind of ticklish," Lena replied, tickling her sides more. Kara jolted up, trying to resist hitting Lena so hard she put her in the stratosphere. "Okay! Fine, more than kind of," Kara broke down. "How much more?" Lena said, wiggling her fingers in front of Kara. "Okay, Lena, really ticklish," Kara said, looking down a bit in embarrassment. "Like.. laugh and punch me off the planet ticklish, or pee your pants ticklish?" Lena said teasingly. Kara looked back almost visibly offended for a minute, only because of how hard it hit home. Flashbacks of the one time Alex had tickled Kara at the wrong time ran through her head. "Definitely punching you off the planet ticklish," Kara teased back. Lena loved seeing Kara Danvers in this position, sitting next to her on the couch with that tight uniform, willing to do anything she said. She also liked that Kara had a little bit of attitude every now and then. "So you've never been tickled so bad you peed your pants?" Lena laughed a bit, doubt in her voice. She was just meaning to tease, but part of her was also kind of curious. Kara focused ahead on the TV, they were originally trying to watch a movie. "Uhhh, I-I don't think so," Kara stuttered a bit. "You're a terrible liar, Supergirl," Lena said, her right arm wrapped around Kara's side, dragging her fingers over her side. Kara blushed a bit, trying to think of a quick way to change the topic. "I don't think you're getting out of this question," Lena said watching Kara look puzzled for a few seconds. "Fine, maybe like.. once," Kara replied under her breath, her cheeks getting a bit redder. Lena smiled at her, then looked forward to the TV screen. Kara bought it for a second, thinking the whole tickling conversation might be finally over until Lena dug her fingers into Kara's sides at full force. Kara burst out laughing, trying her hardest to contain herself. "I hate you so much right now!" The flustered Kryptonian said to Lena, a little frustrated but more embarrassed. "Why? Do you need to pee or something?" Lena teased. Kara looked down for a second, her cheeks now pretty red. "Use your words, Kara." "Well, yes, but I -" Kara got cut off. "I think you should hold it." Lena said. Kara looked at her, trying not to show too much frustration on her face, she couldn't give Lena that satisfaction yet. Kara knew Lena had a wetting kink, Lena told her she'd done it with a few of her partners, but Kara had never tried. "Okay, I'll try," Kara said, still red in the face. Immediately after saying that, she felt Lena tracing her fingers over her side again. She hated it but loved it at the same time. Lena admired Kara, her long blonde hair, how she managed to look so regal in her Supergirl outfit, even this new one with the tight pants. She loved it when Kara would submit to her, call her mistress, beg or anything. Lena just loved being in control. Kara took this time to regain her composure. She really had to pee, and she really didn't want to admit it. To pee her pants in her uniform? She'd probably be the first superhero to do that. Probably not a good look. Suddenly, the TV turned off, she looked over to see Lena with the remote in her hand as she took her other arm out from behind Kara. Lena tossed it to the side, and got on Supergirl's lap. Kara could feel Lena's tight denim jeans rubbing against her outfit. Lena looked down at Kara, putting her hand on her face and softly pulling her in to kiss her. In the tender moment, Lena used the element of surprise to give Kara a little tickle attack. "Lena! Mistress, please," Kara begged, quickly pulling away from the kiss and giving her the puppy-dog eyes that always made Lena's heart melt. Lena stopped for a second, but kept going. It took all of Kara's raw strength to not flail her arms and hurt Lena, and with that she suddenly lost control of her bladder - but only for a split second. "L-Lena! Please, I leaked!" Kara said out loud, not even realizing what she had just admitted. Lena looked down at her again, Kara's back against the couch and face full of the cutest nervous expression she'd ever seen. She looked down further, and realized Kara had actually leaked a bit in her pants. A small baseball sized wet spot that was a dark, wet navy blue surrounded her crotch area of the deep blue pants. Lena gasped mockingly, putting her hand to her mouth. "Did Supergirl just pee her pants?" Lena said teasingly. Kara was squirming desperately underneath her, she couldn't even find the words to reply, but she had to say something. "Please, Lena? I see the bathroom just literally over there!" Kara said in a fury, pointing to her apartment bathroom. Lena had that evil expression on her face again. "No, I definitely want to see you pee your pants, Kara. Or should I say Supergirl." Kara blushed hard. She couldn't just.. obey, could she? To be continued. -- So this was a little something I wrote up pretty quick, I think it's kind of cute. If ya'll like it, I'll do a continuation! Might throw some other characters in there.
  12. Preface: I want to get better at writing so I want all of your constructive criticism, even if it's something minor like a comma in the wrong place, or annoying formatting. Be as harsh as you want. I'm pretty bad at proof reading. “Alright people! Ladies, gentlemen, and anyone i’ve missed,” screams a small, messy looking pasty man in John Lennon glasses into a radio mike, patched together with duct tape and sticks. “I don’t care whether you’re listening from your radio, your tv, your computer or your fucking smart fridge. This is old mate Tug Boat,” He sits in his messy studio surrounded by the budget versions of every piece of radio equipment, on his three year old $50 dollar office chair. “We don’t have the mic quality of the big stations, but Sheela and I have all the big hits, and that was Spirit of Radio by Rush.” His co host, Torres Strait woman, with an amazing hairdo barely held back by her headset cut in, from the other side of the clunky FM equipment on an old desk propped up by calculus textbooks. “And this is ya girl Sheels, and we have a very special guest for you tonight on Mystic 106.6,” She said, casting her eyes past the old studio equipment, and past the slowly degrading posters from prog rock concerts from the 80s, from before she, or Tug Boat, were even alive, to their guest. “Would you like to introduce yourself? Or should we take the honour” She said. The guest nodded, with a smile, “I kinda want to hear what you guys will say.” she said, sitting on the old ottoman the hosts dragged in from the foyer for her. Sheels and Tug Boat chucked, and shot each other nasty glances. “Oh man!” Tug began, “Sitting with us now is the woman of power, the booby brain lady,” Sheels and the guest chuckled nervously, “Member of The Victory Vixens, caster of Goddamn MIND BULLETS, the telekinetic titties, Miss Danger!” “Thank you for that, strange, strange introduction Tug, I don’t know whether to laugh or be offended.” Miss Danger said. “I should not be surprised though, I listened to your interview with Minister Geel, and the one with Dominique… the one with that rep from the Sex Party, and every other time you’ve embarassed yourself, ” she trailed off. “I love a guest who does their research!” Sheels said. “So, before we really get into it, are there any topics you don’t want us to delve into? And are there any things you want to bring up before we…” “Plug those depths!” Tug Boat cut in. “bring the conversation down to the sewers! Pretend to do investigative journalism,” “So,” Sheels said, “um. Start the conversation I was going to say.” “Sorry,” Tug Said, “I just got excited, I have so many questions, so many things I badly want to cover, and we don’t have that much time with you, do we?” Miss Danger took a deep breath leaned in to the mic, like she was the announcer in Chicago. “I guess, for all your listeners who live under rocks. I’m a super powered individual with telekinetic and psychic powers, I’m a core member of The Victory Vixens. I normally fight to protect the people of New Sydney, and do all I can to help Australia, and sometimes the greater world” “Did you practice that beforehand? Do you have that written down.” Tug asked. “I need it for like, school and workplace tours, and all the generic PR stuff I end up doing” “Wait, wait wait,” Sheels said, gesticulating frantically, trying not to laugh. Tug started laughing. “In your costume?” Sheels continued. “Like, at schools, in your costume? At schools? The Costume you’re wearing now?” Tug muted his mic and threw his head back laughing. It was a futile effort though, as the other mics in the studio picked it up. Sheels leaned in to her mic, put on a serious face, and calmly said. “For those listening at home, Tug just died, like, really dead. Like, I need you to stand facing the sunrise and play last post, died... He’ll be back in five, he needs to calm down.” She shot a sideways glance at Miss Danger, and let out a deep and windy sigh, “Yeah people, just like when we had The Legendary Hobo on.” She rolled her eyes. Miss, now seeing this strange radio dynamic play out in person suddenly put a few of the puzzle pieces. Tug clumsily stood up and stumbled out the recording studio knocking equipment and wires, as he shoved his fist in his mouth to stop the noise. He slammed the door behind him. “So I guess we start with the costume, then, Sheels.” Miss Danger said, nervously as she, more so than any of the other core Vixens, is a controversial figure, not for any material reason, or so Miss Danger thinks, it’s purely the pearl clutching wine mums, priests of this and that, who can’t handle seeing a bit of skin here and there… and there…. And there.... Tug’s laugh in the distance managed to overpower the sound proofing, and still picked up on the un-muted mics. Through the studio window Miss Danger saw a few tears appear at the edges of Tug’s eyes. “Now, because this is radio, and some people, who live under rocks, or in the past, or in other dimensions, or in their own world, or whatever the fuck else.... Or may be literally dead, may not have seen your costume, I’m gonna try my best to describe it.” Miss Danger smiled, “definitely better than Tug trying to. I think we both know what he’d spend his time talking about.” gesturing towards her chest. Tug still stood outside the studio, hand jammed in mouth, convulsing with laughter and going red. “Well,” Sheels said nervously. “They are like… right there.” A few seconds of awkward pause hung in the air. “Anyway, for those out in radio land, Miss Danger is in her costume right now, and if you haven’t seen it before, it’s like a white, one piece swimsuit. But it’s backless, sideless, with a neckline that goes almost all… all the way down. It’s got some arm bands, some epaulettes and a cute Hussar cape. So, Miss Danger. It’s a very extreme costume, compared to the rest of The Vixens, especially compared to Misha’s body armour and heavy shields.” “Well,” Miss Danger began, “Misha can’t fly or use psychic shielding. I need something lightweight to be able to fly properly, and if I have a psychic shield…” Miss Danger trailed off, and then paused and furrowed her brow for a moment.” casting her eyes around the studio, thinking about how truthful she wanted to be, she knows that anything she says on radio here will be listened to by possibly tens of listeners, maybe even dozens, to say nothing of on demand listening later down the line. What she says here, may indeed impact public perception of her, and may in fact reflect on The Victory Vixens on the whole. “Honey, you ok over there?” Sheels said, brows furrowing. “Yeah, I just had to do a big think for a moment.” Miss Danger said with a sharp smile, returning with a renewed confidence and vigor. “Honestly, the main reason, and in the spirit of you and Tug’s Show, I’m going to be blunt, and right to the point, and reach my arm right in to the sewer. (and by the way, I have a more conservative version of the costume when I’m at schools.) is I want to look, and feel sexy,” Tug burst back into the room and powered over to his decrepit mic and chair. “And girl, it fucking works.” “look good to feel good, healthy body begets healthy mind,” Miss continued “Aww,” Sheels sighed, “ and I thought we were going to have a civil discussion about something for once.” she sent a wry look at Tug. “That’s our bitch queen of the radio waves, being her normal self.” Tug responded. “Thanks Tug, really value your input.” Sheels winked. “Now I realised we didn’t do the proper intro. This show’s already off the rails, everything is already a nightmare, As often happens when Tug talks to normal humans. Are there any topics you don’t want us to talk about?” Miss Danger sat back on the old ottoman. “Look, I’m a long time listener, I know the kinds of things you bring up. I know the ACCC has issues with you. So let me say this. I’m not gonna talk political opinion, and I’m not gonna talk about that sort of stuff, but I’ll happily talk about the time I pooped myself on a date, the time I got trapped in Ouze, and other faux pas, also, how I came up with my costume.” she conceded: “ since we’re already on that topic.” Tug’s smile spread from ear to ear, and was threatening to leave his face entirely. “Oh, this is going to be perfect. This is exactly what I was after,” Miss wasn’t looking, but she was pretty sure that the degenerate radio host was standing to attention in his ancient cargo shorts. “Oh! That’s another reason why I chose this costume.” Miss Danger said, gesturing to her crotch. Sheels clicked a few buttons on her laptop and signalled something to Tug. Tug nodded. Tug started giggling like a bigger than normal idiot, adjusting his glasses “easy access for a cheeky post fight fuck?” “Mate, do I need to send you to the naughty corner?” Sheels said, angrily, sending the glare of the century in his direction, he just responded with a bit of a laugh. “Well, as a human being, I sometimes gotta pee. Sometimes I gotta pee real bad. Sometimes in a lull in a mission I gotta find a quiet rooftop and pop a super squat. I have the easiest costume in The Vixens to pee in.” “Fairo, girl.” Sheels said. “Those moments can be tough for us girls.” Tug leaned in to his mic, the smile still there, looking more sinister if anything. The women shot glances at each other, Miss; questioning, Sheels; apologetic. Tug began, “Do you, or any of The Vixens, ever like,” the smile went from sinister to curious. Legitimate concern flashed across Sheels’ face. Tug Finished, “not make it?” Concern changed to fear, Sheels butted in. “That’s right listeners, quality Mystic 106.6 content right here, talking about adult women having pee emergencies, and we’ll be right back after our guest’s first song. Wanna set this up hun?” “An old favourite from before I became powered, an old boyfriend got me on to; Steve Miller Band’s Fly Like an Eagle.” Sheels mashed enter and leaned back in her chair letting out a deep and meaningful sigh. “Fuck me. This is why we got a superhero on the show, to talk about whether she makes it to the toilet on time.” Miss Danger got a wry smile across her face. “I mean, this is cutting edge journalism.” “Fucking fuck me, for fuck’s sake” Sheels said, Miss Danger had no idea one of her favourite radio hosts had such a potty mouth. Sheels sank deeper into the budget office chair. Soon it’d be threatening to swallow her whole, like an Officeworks Kraken. “I mean, Have you heard of any other journalists who have talked about this topic?” Miss Danger said, “you two are the lead on this topic, breaking new journalistic ground.” “Ain’t it fucking exciting Queen Sheila?” Tug broke in, “we have an exclusive with booby brain lady about the normal lives of our great heroes. Humanising, and closing the gap between us and them. Showing the world how our inspirations are just like us, and suffer the same indignities as us, that there’s more to our heroes than costumes and otherworldly powers.” “Oh god I’m trapped in a room with two of them.” Sheels sank deeper into the Officeworks Kraken. “But, I guess that is a good point. Or maybe I’m just going insane. Booby…. Sorry, he’s rubbing off on me, Miss Danger, are you ok with this topic?” “Entirely. I knew what I was getting into when I came on this show. Do I have some stories for you. I appreciate your concern though, hun. Also, I think it’s a shame that the one time your boy Tug said something smart it was off air.” The three shared a good laugh. Sheels seemed to regain some life and win the fight against the Officeworks Kraken. “Ok people, we’re back on in thirty seconds. I’ll introduce the story, Tug asks the question again,” She glared at him, “more sensibly this time, and then it’s all on you Miss Danger.” her compatriots of the radio room both nodded. As the last few bars of the Steve Miller song faded out, Sheels mimed a five second countdown on her fingers. “Welcome back to Mystic, listeners to our tell all talk with Miss Danger. Sorry for the abrupt song break but Tug and I needed to confer with Miss Danger privately. Anyway, where we left off was a question from our esteemed Tug Boat, wanna set this up?” Tug ran his fingers through his hair, adjusted his glasses, made a big dramatic show of clearing his throat, and began. “Something I’ve always thought about, and I’m sure a number of our listeners think about as well, is ‘do our heroes ever have to deal with normal human shit?’ do you ever get parking tickets, burn your steaks, suffer breakups, or have embarrassing moments, like, say, pee-pee moments.” Sheels shot a shocked glance at Tug. Miss Danger started with a bit of a chuckle, as a nervous flutter entered her stomach, and she felt something lower down as well. “I’m here to tell your listeners that, yes on all counts, I’ve had bad break ups, got parking tickets, burned my food, and tying it back to before the song, peed my pants.” she began again, with nervous laughter. “In fact, that last one happens to me a lot more than it should, for a woman of my age. Like, I risk it whenever I laugh, get too drunk, and a few other situations. In fact, the stresses of the superhero life make it happen more than it used to.” Tug looked enthralled. “In fact, let me tell you the story from my first mission with the Vixens, and first mission in the costume. This wasn’t long after my powers had awakened, about two years back I would have been about 23. It was the battle of Sydney. Dominique, the lady with supernatural accuracy and I had been assigned to run defence on the harbour area while the main team drew the enemy force away from the city. Dominique sat perched on the Opera House, keeping an eye for any more of these aquatic bastards to turn up, I spent most of my time flying around the streets and the park area. Dommie and I idly chatted about a bunch of things, from Vixen life, to how our friends were doing, to my costume and her lack of costume.” Miss stuttered, “not to say she was nude, to say that she just wore normal ADF combat gear, as she was sort of our military attache. Anyway, so I flew over to Pinchgut Island, that little island in the harbour with the old timey fort turned pizza joint on it, and there was one of the bastards hiding. I notified Dommie, in fact, I think my exact words were, ‘we got an armoured fucker in the historic site hun!’ He was a big one, covered in rocks, chunks of boat, and coral. He’d been there for a while, as he was no longer dripping. I got his attention by telekenetic-ing a few chairs at him. He didn’t like that, and being a newbie, I didn’t notice his armament. He shot back. With some kind of thrown together shitcannon. Rapidly. Most shots bounced off the shield. One got me in the arm. I got flustered and worried, and I flew to hide on the other side of the building, the one on the Opera House side. I think my thought process was something like fuckfuckfuckfuck, i’m gonna die, i’m gonna die, fuckfuckfuckfuck.” Sheels said, “a fair enough feeling.” “ When I came back to my senses I heard a pitter-patter on the ground, I looked around to see where it was coming from, and then I looked down, and I saw it. The crotch of my costume was going bright yellow, a stream of fear was gushing from it, and a puddle of shame was forming around my feet. I glanced over to the opera house to see if Dommy had noticed my humiliation. If she did, she didn’t say anything. This was the worst day of my life, first mission with The Vixens and i’ve already showed them I’m a little pissy pants.” Miss Danger chuckled. “I wanted to wait at least until the post mission celebration to show them that.” Tug and Sheela laughed. “But I didn’t know this at the time, but it was about to get a whole, whole lot worse. While I was too focussed on peeing myself, the armoured bastard closed around the corner and opened fire again. This time the loud crack of firing shook me to my core, I flew away, fear still dripping from my yellowed crotch, and running down my thighs. I landed on the roof. Dommie kindly, and calmly asked me to try and make a hole in the armour, as she now had the beast in sight. By this point I was a real sight. Face bright red, tears in my eyes, pee stained costume, pee stained legs, and about to cry. But I mustered my last strength, and fueled by fear, I went airborne again, flew towards the big fucker, screaming in a combination of fear, rage, and humiliation. Using my left hand I grabbed for the fucker’s gun, and with the right, I tried to rip his helmet off. This must have looked funny to an outsider, I was a good ten meters away using telekinesis for both of these things. It took most of this second wind, but I got the helmet off, and the second I did, two bullets went into his head. Perfect. Dead centre. He fell over listless, dead. I felt a huge wave of relief, the worst experience of my life was over. I floated to the ground, still bright red, still on the verge of full on bawling. I landed, but my legs weren’t going to take my weight. I collapsed. There was a squish when I landed.” “You don’t mean?” Sheels said, emphatically. Tug just laughed. He looked like he was loving life right now. “A jolt of fear ran up my spine as I found the energy to stand again. Then I smelt it. Shaking and quaking, I felt the back of my costume. There it was, between my ass-cheeks, a big, solid, pile of evidence that I’m a terrified little mouse with telekinetic powers. My worst day got even worse. At that point, I just gave up, went in to foetal position on the ground and gave in to the fear. I began bawling my eyes out, made my costume even more yellow and brown. I must have passed out or something, because the next thing I remember is the rest of The Vixens helping me to my feet, and back to our base on Goat Island. So, listeners, remember, no matter how bad your first day on a new job was, mine was worse. “Thank you so much for sharing that story with us honey,” Sheels said, “That must have been hard to do. How did the rest of The Vixens take it?” “They were mostly really supportive, a few of them even shared their own similar stories. Though,” Miss Danger said with an embarrassed chuckle, “not one of them was as bad as mine. Not one of them involved crying your eyes out in a stew of piss AND shit.” She left a pause for comedic effect. “It was one or the other.” Sheels and Tug forced down laughter. “So let that be a lesson to all of you. Even superheroes cry, even superheroes feel fear, even superheroes sometimes even shit their costume. This is when I learned something about superheroes that makes so much sense when you think about it. All of The Vixens have like, five spares of their costume. Some are even kept in the team jet. You know, in case of damage... Or poop.” “Alright listeners,” Tug said, “we’ll be back after these short messages from our sponsors, feel free to call in on our number or text us questions for Miss Danger,”
  13. A superhero who gets stronger the fuller her bladder (and possibly Bowles) are, reaching Superman levels when she's about to loose it, she would most likely have a yellow and brown costume and a punny iterative name involving Omorashi terms like holding and pee. possible superhero name: "Golden Rain" she would have a mentor who was a hero during the Golden age with the power to both shrink and turn into water allowing him to act as the "urine" in her bladder, of course her bladder would still fight hard to get him out as it would regular urine. He would have a massive omorashi fetish that he kept a secret from everyone but his daughter until he met our hero and he would not join her in the field due to his age. As mentioned above he would have a daughter who knows about his fetish and incidentally has the same fetish and enjoys holding her pee and is very good at it too and trains our hero's bladder with her dad. VILLAINS: Incontinence Man: Based off this sketch a scientist who has a major fetish for incontinent women who has developed a gas that can remove their potty training temporarily and hopes to enhance his formula to render them that way permanently then nuke the whole world with it. also has a spaceship shaped like a diaper that i have sketched myself here. The wings and cockpit woul curve downward a bit but im not good enough to draw that also rocket lanchers under the wings. would have a harley quinn-esque side kick in a sexy nurse outfit who goes along with his plans because she believes women will get much more done if they don't have to worry about going to the bathroom anymore, due to heavy exposure to his gas is permanently incontinent herself, she also carries needles filled with a stronger liquid form of the gas that she uses as throwing knifes. APPEARANCE: a lanky frame, spiky brown Hair, goggles, a yellow lab coat, brown pants, brown gloves, black boots, and a gun belt with stuff like diapers, baby powder, and bombs containing his gas on it The Holder: a man who kidnaps women, super and normal, and takes them to the bathroomless city inside of his invisible space ship near the edge of the milky way and forces them to hold it of face punishment. also, has a rivalry with incontinence man due to there motives being the exact opposite of each other APPEARANCE: a bulky frame like Hulk or Juggernaut, a yellow trench coat with the sleeves torn off, brown tights, a gimp mask he never takes off, a gag ball he uses as a necklace, chains wrapped around his arms I'd also suggest a electricity based villain like Electro, a ice based villain like Mr.Freeze, a Illusion based villain like Mysterio, and a fear based villain like Scarecrow as those are all things that could have a drastic effect on holding abilities. So what do you think? If you want to use if for something i would enjoy credit.
  14. Hello omoking here I would like to ask which superhero you would like to see in diapers.
  15. With the prevalence of superhero movies these days, I'm kinda surprised I've not seen anyone doing superhero wetting videos (if you know of any let me know). So if someone with the resources were to make the, what would be your favourite hero to see wet and in what situation? Personally I'd love to see Jessica Jones or Wonder Woman (as portrayed recently) as I could imagine them both being pretty pragmatic about it. Maybe JJ on a stake out in an awkward position, gets increasingly desperate before realising its ruining her concentration and just letting go.
  16. Valin rode her bike down the sidewalk on her way to college. She was 23 and pursuing a doctorate in heart surgery. It was a tough field, but someone had to do it. Her world was a much different place from ours. As everyone knows there are multiple dimensions, some having monsters and myths, heroes and legends, others, like ours, bearing little traces of what could have but wasn't. Of course Valin didn't know about the differences of dimensions. She was a very well rounded skeptic of such things, and was quite content in that way of thinking. Or so she thought. On that day, everything was going to change. "I'm not going to make it," Valin thought to herself as she rode quickly down the hill. Valin had woken up and done her daily regimen, the holy trio, running, swimming, and a little bit of martial arts to spice up the day. After that it was into the shower, hopping out for a bite to eat and two cups of green tea with a little sugar and honey. After that she hit the bathroom, threw on her shoes, and went out to greet the world. However, today hadn't gone quite so... smoothly to say the least. She woke up at her regular time of six am precisely and threw on her workout shorts and sports bra, packed her backpack with the essential odds and ends for her workout, and started jogging to the pool. However a building had fallen across the road during a recent showdown between the mighty Gamma Girl and her nemesis, Fusion. It rocked the city and killed several people. Valin wished that she had that kind of power, to stand up for the little people and fight evil alongside other heroes and heroines. "I have the skill," Valin thought as she ran, "I just need the power to be able to stand up to them. Any half rate super villain could just kill me in a second, with ice, fire, interdimensional kitten lasers..." She turned left at the wreck and continued on, adding about 10 minutes onto her route. She arrived at the pool, noticed it was empty, as usual, and headed into the locker room to get changed into her bathing suit. She slid off her sports bra displaying a slate gray bra which she unclipped before putting on her bikini top. She then slid off her shorts, revealing matching bottoms. She then headed out, dove in, and started swimming. The water was a little chilly, but she coped. She prided herself on being tougher than others who would have been left shivering on the poolside. She had a pretty attractive figure, not enough to truly stand out from the crowd, but not so that someone wouldn't notice her. After about 40 minutes of swimming she hopped out and dried off. She then returned to the lockers and headed to the dojo they had a few doors down. She quickly did some kickboxing and sparring with a few people who were there before work, before starting on her way back to her apartment. She quickly biked her way back. She had realized as she was walking out, that due to her detour around the building she was running late. She picked up the pace and arrived back fairly quickly. She ran up to her room, threw her clothes all over the place and ran into the shower. Thankfully, the water in the complex was preheated, meaning that it was just the way she liked it, nice and toasty. After lathering up, she quickly rinsed the soap off her body and turned off the water. She dried off and ran her hands through her hair. It was about a foot long and was the shade of an almond. After giving it a quick brushing session she threw on her clothes and ran downstairs to snag a bite to eat. She quickly burned some toast and ate it as she brewed her tea. If she didn't get her tea then she might fall asleep during class and miss things, jeopardizing her degree work. She gulped them down, still scalding hot, but tolerably sweet. While drinking she looked at the clock and saw that she was ten minutes late getting out the door. She quickly considered it, and decided to skip the bathroom in hopes of arriving on time. "I'm not going to make it," Valin thought as she rode down that hill. She realized she was going too fast. And then the car slammed into her. She felt as if time slowed, and she flew through the air, her bent up biking sliding to across the ground before banging into a wall. Valin kept flying however, and hit the cement hard in a nearby alleyway. The last thing she saw before blacking out was the shadows slowly closing in around her.
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