Worth Her Weight In Gold

[Foxlover 815]

This was a commission I wrote a bit ago; figured folks here might enjoy it! TW// Extreme/multi-day holding, and some light yuri smut at the end! You've been notified.


~~~~~~~~~~~~


Princess Iselle’s heart pounded in her chest as she was roughly corralled down the narrow stone steps of the dingy, drafty dungeon.
As the heir to the throne of the powerful nation of Callimore, she normally didn't scare easily...but right now, she was terrified. Here she was, being led to Lord knows where by goodness knows who, intending to use her as leverage, assumedly against her father.
She replayed his warning from just that morning in her head, how he’d told her to keep clear of the river bordering the Deeplands...But she’d taken her horse to graze there anyway, figuring he was just being overprotective, and a ride along the plains was the perfect way to celebrate her 21st birthday.

So caught up was she with her excursion, she hadn’t even seen the mercenaries descend from the trees.

Before she knew it, she’d been brought before the Captain of the Yarthian Scout Guard and sentenced to this dungeon. She was dirty, hungry, and not to mention she felt an acute need to pee, having not relieved herself since before leaving the castle that morning.
Iselle took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She did her best to keep her path straight, but becoming suddenly aware of her full bladder caused her gait to be slow and stunted.

She yelped as she felt one of the guards’ shove her from behind. "Keep moving, wench…” He growled. Iselle bit her lip, her eyes flitting around the dark stone walls as she tried to comply...but just as they reached the bottom, her foot caught on the hem of her gown and she pitched forward with a yelp, landing hard on the cold, damp floor. She nearly felt a squirt escape her, but she managed to avoid an incident as she struggled upright.
One of the guard’s chuckled. “Some Princess, ain’t yeh s’posed to be all noble and dignified? Don’t look very fancy, sittin’ on yer arse, heh heh…”

“Shut up, Briard…” The other guard muttered. “Get her up, gotta keep her clean as possible…”

She yelped again as she was roughly hauled to her feet, wincing as the action acted upon her bladder. The guard plucked a torch from a nearby sconce and stepped forward, illuminating a large iron cell strewn with hay and dried streaks of...something. Iselle quickly began telling herself it wasn’t blood, even as her stomach turned at the sight of the dark crimson stains.

The guard pulled a key off his belt, unlocking the door and pulling it open with a rusty *creeeeakkk*. Iselle barely had time to squeak before she was shoved inside and the door pulled shut behind her.

“Nighty-night, Princess…” He cackled, already turning towards the stairs once more.

Iselle whirled around, hurrying up to the bars. “W-wait, I’ve...I’ve got to powder my nose! S-surely you lot have a space for a lady to relieve herself?”

The guard turned back to her, smirking and nodding at an iron chamber pot next in the corner of the cell. “Happy weeing, poppet.” He cackled, heading back up the stairs and shutting the dungeon door behind them.

The Princess blinked, turning to the fetid receptacle and wrinkling her nose. She could hardly believe they wanted her to use such a disgusting pot… but the more she looked at it, the fuller her bladder felt...her stocking-clad thighs had already started to rub against each other.

After a moment more of debate, she figured it was best to prioritize comfort over pride. Shuffling over to the pot, she lifted up her skirts and squatted over it. Her stream started a moment later, splattering wetly into the iron vessel. Iselle stood there for the duration of her pee, shutting her eyes tight and trying to ignore the acrid scent wafting up from within the grimy pot.

No sooner had she finished and moved herself off of the pot than a voice startled her.

“Careful...they don’t empty that but once a day…”

Iselle nearly jumped out of her skin as she whirled around, spying a large black mass in the corner that let her know she wasn’t alone.

She  slunk down in the corner, her eyes glued to the large shape that had begun to move, getting up...and up, and up. Iselle had to crane her neck to look at the hulking shadow now staring down at her. Fear, hot and sticky, crept up Iselle’s spine as the figure stepped into the torchlight…

To her surprise, it was a woman. A large, broad, muscular woman, but a woman nonetheless.

She was dressed rather ruggedly, in naught but a leather tunic, dark roughspun trousers and a pair of boots that may have been loose even on Iselle’s mountain of a father. Her arms were bare, rippling with muscle all the way down to the wrists that were shackled to the floor.
Her skin was the color of warm tea, a rich bronze-brown that let Iselle know she was not native to this land. Her dark teak hair was tied in a simple braid that ran down her back, and a pair of intelligent, piercing amber eyes stared down at the Princess coldly. Had Iselle not been so frightened, she would’ve thought the woman quite beautiful.

“Well?” The woman snarled, causing Iselle to start. “What’re yeh starin’ at? Never seen an Essidian before?”

Iselle still didn’t speak, confusion and fear gripping her throat. After a moment, she managed to recover enough of her faculties to respond. “P-please don’t hurt me…” She whimpered, her voice shaky and thin. “I-I-I mean you no harm…”

The woman scoffed. “Hmph, I’m sure yeh don’t.” She murmured, rolling her shoulders. With that, she moved towards the cell door, peeking out into the deserted main holding area. She stood there for long enough that Iselle began wondering if she was soft in the head.

Finally, after ten minutes of the woman staring out into space, Iselle’s curiosity overpowered her fear. “...What are you doing?” She asked.

The amazon huffed, glaring back at the girl. “My business. None of yours.”

Iselle pursed her lips, but she didn’t press the issue. A couple more moments, and a grin split the warrior woman’s face. Iselle didn’t know what was going on, but she appeared to have achieved her objective.

She brought her hands together, pressing her thumb into the base of her thumb on the other hand. She took a deep breath and jammed downward, causing the thumb to dislocate with a sickening *pop* and making Iselle flinch.

The woman grunted in discomfort, but she set to work slowly pulling her hand out of the shackle, moving the joint back into place, and repeating the process with her other hand. Within moments, the shackles were clattering uselessly to the ground as the woman rubbed her wrists.

“Blimey, those chafed…” She muttered as she strode back over to the cell doors, popping her thumbs back into their sockets as she did so.

Iselle watched, dumbfounded as the woman inexplicably freed herself from her restraints. “W-wait, what are you doing?”

The woman turned back to her with glare. “Escaping, fuck’s it look like. And unless you want me to snap your pretty little neck here and now, you’ll keep mum about it.” She hissed as she reached into her bosom and pulled out a thin bit of metal that she began working in the lock.

Iselle bit her lip, looking around the cell before back at the warrior woman. “...Take me with you!”

The woman scoffed. “Yeah, don’t think so.”

Izelle didn’t relent, wringing her hands as she strode towards the woman. “Please, I’ll do anything! I’ll-”

“I don’t want nuffin t’ do with some powdered high-born doily. I were you, I’d be grateful; they coulda stuck you in a cell with some slavering bloke who ain’t had a shag in months… the things a brute like that would do to a pretty little thing like you…” She murmured, her mouth curling up in a menacing grin before she turned back to the lock.

Iselle paled at the woman’s implications, but she still set her jaw. “I beg your pardon! I am not a doily! I’ll have you know that I-”

“Can you hunt?” The woman interrupted, still working the lock.

Iselle frowned. “Erm...no…”

“Can yeh fight?”

“Well, not really…”

“Sail?”

“No…”

“Set traps?”

“No.”

“Then it's settled. You’re dead weight, and dead weight gets left behind.” The woman murmured, grinning as the metal finally picked through the lock.

Iselle’s mind raced...this was likely her only chance to get free of this awful place, she had to keep trying. What could she offer? She had no money on her, only her dress, her family ring, her shoes, her- wait, the ring!

“W-wait!” She yelped, quickly slipping the gold band with the amethyst stone set inside. “I-I have my family’s ring! It’s yours if you take me with you!”

The amazon woman chuckled. “So yeh know how to barter. Good, wouldn’t want those fancy lessons from whatever ivory tower yeh trotted out of to go to waste.”

Iselle pursed her lips. “The ring is pure gold, and the stone’s amethyst. It’s worth a fortune, I promise…”

The woman rolled her eyes, turning back towards the Princess. “Listen, pup, it’s gonna take more than a fancy bauble to-”

Suddenly, she stopped, her eyes fixating on the small circlet. She strode over to the Princess, plucking the ring from her hand.

“...This is the crest of the Royal House of Callimore.” She muttered, looking back up at the Princess. “Where th’ hell’d you get this!?”

The girl swallowed. “M-my father, King Adais…”

The woman continued to stare at the girl. “Euna’s sloshers, yeh ain’t just some nobleman’s doe-eyed sac-seed...you’re the fuckin’ Princess…”

Iselle nodded, drawing herself up a bit. “Princess Iselle Averescu, heir apparent to the throne of Callimore, High Regent of-”

“Shut it, kid, I’m trying to think…” the woman muttered, her eyes cast towards the ground.

The Princess watched her on tenterhooks, her anxiety mounting with each passing moment.

Finally, the woman sighed, turning back to the Princess. “Yeh follow my directions exactly, without question. If’n I tell yeh to do something, you do it immediately, and if I fer one second think yer gonna get me killed, I’m leavin’ yeh behind, got it?”

Iselle couldn’t help the relieved grin that spread across her face. “Oh, thank you, thank you!” She exclaimed, rushing towards the woman with her arms outstretched, just to be stopped by a hand on her face, keeping her at length.

“And don’t fuckin’ touch me.”

“Yeff ma’am…” Iselle murmured around the hand.

~

The warrior woman swung the door out quickly, catching it before it could creak. She beckoned Iselle forward, the two of them tiptoeing across the dungeon and back over to the stairs.

Iselle couldn’t help but notice that her rescuer was incredibly light on her feet for one so large. She managed to get up the creaky stairs and through the prison door with hardly a sound, plucking another torch from the long hallway separating the dungeon from the rest of the castle.

She took a moment to listen at the door, and after surmising there was no one nearby, she turned back to Iselle. “Follow me, and move exactly how I do.”

Iselle nodded in understanding, following the woman through the door and into another narrow corridor leading into a large, dusty storeroom of sorts, littered with rope, old lanterns, rusty weapons and all other manner of junk.

The woman grabbed a rope and an old iron throwing axe before moving to the other corner and stooping over. Iselle assumed it was to get more supplies, but when the woman straightened back up, she had a wineskin full of mulled mead in her hand. She grinned, popped off the top and upended it into her mouth, drinking greedily.

Iselle watched in disbelief at the woman partaking in so cavalier an act in the midst of their escape.

“Erm...what’re you-”

She was silenced by the woman holding up a finger, still drinking.

After another second or so, she’d drained the entire skin, pulling her mouth away from it with a wet *pop*.

“Ahhh...fuckin’ hits the spot… Alright.” She murmured, stifling a burp and attaching the wineskin to her hip before pushing open the door leading out to the grounds.

The air was cool and damp, similar to the dungeon, but much fresher and cleaner. The moon was full, casting a pale silvery glow over the entire courtyard that, oddly but thankfully, appeared to be abandoned, save for a lone guard snoozing against a log near the base of the wall.

“Where is everyone?” Iselle whispered as they stole across the cobbled stone.

“Drinking their arses off at the Festus, no doubt.” The woman huffed. “They think they’re so good at breaking down their prisoners that they don’t think they need to be watched, even on nights like this.”

Iselle frowned. “Break...them down? What do you mean?”

The woman suddenly clammed up, setting her jaw. “...No more questions.” She muttered. “Follow me.”

The pair hurried to the outer wall where, true to theory, there was a spot in which the watchtower was at an angle such to render this particular section of the wall virtually invisible. The woman took the liberty of relieving the sleeping guard of his cutlass and coinpurse, smirking at Iselle’s disgruntled expression.

“We need ‘em more’n he does.” She muttered as she tied the rope to the other end of the throwing axe, spun it a few times, and lobbed it over the stone border. It caught on the other side, and after a few tugs, the woman moved back over to the wall and started pulling herself up.

The Princess’s eyes widened as she saw the amazon woman deftly scale the wall, her mouth slightly open in awe.

The woman hoisted herself over the other side before turning and looking down at Iselle. “Alright, come on up.”

The Princess wanted to protest, but she knew the longer she delayed, the more chance there was of her being caught and thrown back in that cell...or worse. Besides, she had to prove she wasn’t *completely* useless...

Swallowing, she hurried over the rope, grabbed hold, and began climbing. Halfway up, her arms began to burn, but she gritted her teeth and powered through it until she reached the top. She pulled herself over the edge and dropped down next to the woman, who was now stood with her arms crossed.

“Hmph...bout time.” She huffed. “Now, just one more thing…”

Iselle watched as the woman strode over to the wall, and to her surprise, tugged down on her trousers, revealing her bare, toned ass to the moonlight.

The Princess’s eyes widened as the woman spread her legs somewhat, angled her hips, and began pissing full force against the base of the wall, letting out a contented sigh as she did so.

Iselle merely stared, open-mouthed, as her rescuer absolutely soaked the stone base in her urine. By the force of the stream and the strong scent, she must’ve been quite full up.

After nearly 2 minutes, the woman cut off her stream, tucking herself back into her trousers. “Hmmm...there we go. Much better.”

Iselle reddened as the woman turned back around and strode past her into the night. “W-what do you think you’re doing!?”

The woman didn’t stop. “Pissing, what’s it look like?”

The Princess’s blush deepened. “B-but we’re...we’re outside! Why didn’t you just g-go in the pot in the cell?”  

At this, the woman scowled. “We can either stand here’n yap about me pissin’ habits, or we can get to freedom. I’d rather do the latter, wouldn’t you?”

The Princess opened her mouth as if to say something else, but she thought better of it. Instead, she merely nodded and hurried after the woman as they headed off into the night.

~~

They’d only been walking for twenty minutes when Iselle knew this was going to be rough going. She’d already tripped twice, torn her gown on some brambles, stumbled face-first into a branch and accidentally stepped in something rotten and foul-smelling that made her eyes sting.

“Oy…” The amazonian woman huffed, turning and glowering at Iselle. “Watch your fuckin’ step, will yeh? Thrashin’ into everything, s’wonder the whole forest can’t hear yeh.”

Iselle swallowed, hiking up her skirts as she hurried after the woman. “I-I’m trying! If you could perhaps slow down a little-”

“The moon’s gonna be settin’ soon, and if we don’t make it to the creek before it goes behind the clouds, it’ll just be us and the wolves. We keep moving.” The woman interrupted, continuing on her quick stride.

Iselle pursed her lips, but she continued hurrying after the woman, trying her best to step more carefully. “If we’re in such a hurry, I might ask why we stopped for you to have a spot of mead and...and...that thing you did on the wall…” Iselle huffed, blushing.

The woman continued her long stride, though her scowl deepened. “Yer one sheltered brat, aren’t yeh? Don’t know nuffin’ about nuffin’.”

Iselle set her jaw. “I know enough to know that drinking isn’t a priority when one is trying to escape captivity!”

The woman suddenly stopped, turning and rounding on the Princess, her eyes glaring the smaller monarch down. “Listen, I know an uppity spoiled little harridan like yerself prob’ly ain’t been in a lot of prisons, but Yarth is special. Got all sorts o’ ways of keepin’ their prize prisoners in line...prisoners like me.”

Iselle blinked. “...What do you mean?”

The woman crossed her arms. “Ever heard of a Yarthian scenthound?”

At the look of confusion on the girl’s face, the woman scoffed. “Thought not. Special breed o’ trackin’ hound...but instead of a person’s scent, they sniff out their excretions….namely, piss. More specifically, my piss.”

Iselle balked, appalled at such a crude and ridiculous notion. “They...they track your…?” She swallowed.

The woman leveled her gaze. “Yep. S’why I pissed on the wall. That should have their hounds goin’ in circles for a while, gives us extra time. ‘Sides, I needed a good slash ‘fore we got goin’.” She smirked at Iselle’s dumbfounded expression before cracking her neck. “Awright, lesson’s over, c’mon.” She muttered, turning and taking up her long stride once again.

Iselle blinked, picking up her skirts again and hurrying after the woman. “W-wait, does that mean as soon as we relieve ourselves, they’ll find us?”

“If I do, yeh. They probably didn’t bother their hounds with a scrawny little thing like you, anyone who looks at yeh could tell you wouldn’t last an hour on your own.”

Iselle wrinkled in her nose in indignation, but she didn’t bother trying to contradict the surly amazon...at least, not right now. “So how are you going to keep them from...you know...catching your scent?”

“By holding it.” The woman replied nonchalantly, pushing a large branch out of the way and stepping through the opening it made.

Iselle frowned. “Holding it? The...the whole time?”

At this, the amazon woman turned. “Yeh sound surprised.”

The Princess raised her eyebrow, curling her lip. “Well...yes! You’re talking about simply...not peeing! For...for over a day!”

The woman huffed. “When yeh been living the life I have, yeh tend to build up a certain tolerance for discomfort. Now, keep moving.”

The Princess could hardly believe it. Surely the woman couldn’t be serious about simply abstaining from relieving herself for the duration of their journey? Her bladder couldn’t be that strong...could it?”

Iselle found herself suddenly idly imagining the cavernous organ contained behind the amazon woman’s toned, bronzed abdomen, swelling with piss, unable to escape...held back by a shaking, trembling-

Iselle quickly shook her head of the intrusive thoughts, her cheeks coloring as she hurried after the woman once again.

~~~

They walked for another half hour or so, and Iselle actually managed to keep pace pretty well...or rather, she didn’t get any more gripes from her stalwart guide about bumping into things.

As the trees began to thin, a strange sound began to tickle at Iselle’s ears… a sound she soon recognized to be running water.

They broke the treeline and came upon a middling stream, carving a border between the outskirts of Yarth and the Deeplands. The moonlight reflected off the flowing waters, making them appear almost silvery as they gurgled and churned their way downstream.

The woman made her way to the bank, kneeling and uncorking her wineskin before dipping it into the river, letting it fill with water.

The Princess watched with surprise as the woman lifted the now full waterskin to her lips, drank the whole thing, and then stuck her hand back into the stream to refill it. She repeated this process a few times, having drunk maybe 3 skins full before finally filling it one last time and reattaching it to her belt.

“Hey, wait!” The Princess huffed, shuffling down to the woman. “If those dogs can find you by your...excretions, then perhaps you shouldn’t drink so much...”

The woman wiped her mouth, shooting Iselle a glare. “Come.” She muttered simply, getting to her feet and starting along the banks of the stream.

~~

They continued on for another hour, and Iselle was beginning to grow tired. Granted, the going along the banks was much faster, what with the even ground and the light of the moon to guide them, but it still felt as though they were walking towards nothing.

In order to take her mind off her sore feet, Iselle cleared her throat. “Might I at least learn the name of my sterling rescuer?”

“Nope.” The woman murmured, stepping over a rotted log that Iselle had to clamber over.

The Princess huffed. “Why not? If we’re going to be traveling together, we may as well at least be cordial-”

“The less folks know about me, pup, the better.” The woman growled. “We’re not friends, we’re not comrades, hell, we’re not even acquaintances.”

Iselle frowned. “But sure my father will want to know the name of the brave soul who-”

“Brave nuffin’. I said I’d get you out, I’ve no interest in becomin’ one o’ yer little prissy posh friends.”

Iselle huffed indignantly. “Goodness, are you always so unpleasant?”

The woman snorted. “Niceness never paid for nothin’, pup, and it don’t help you survive. When the world is mean, you gotta be mean back, savvy?”

Iselle frowned at the brusque reasoning, but she didn’t challenge it.

“...Will you at least tell me where we’re going?” She called.

At this, the woman turned again, glaring at the girl. “I told yeh t’ fuckin’ keep it down, didn’t I?”

Iselle closed her mouth, scowling… but as her gaze idled towards the stream, so did her thoughts return to the multiple skins of water the woman had downed...all without the intention to let it out once nature had run its course, apparently.

Try as she might, Iselle couldn’t stop thinking about it… Having grown up around stately duchesses and Ladies who would attend meetings and events all day without even a hope of a privy, Iselle had developed a...shall we say, fascination with women with extraordinary capacities. She’d find herself in her father’s audience chambers, watching as the court scribe dutifully copied down the proceedings of the meeting, having been there since dawn and drained the tea pot next to them thrice as they wiggled around trying to keep a lid on their own “teapot”, or seeing the Mistress of Treasury sit through long-winded reports about the state of the nation’s finances, drinking all the time to combat the summer afternoon heat... Iselle would have no idea of just how swollen and full the bladders of those women had become until she saw them afterwards, surreptitiously rubbing their stocking-clad thighs together as they fought to keep the entire day’s worth of piss held back as they were plumbed with questions or directives from her oblivious father…

Her illicit nostalgic musings were interrupted as the warrior woman suddenly stopped, causing Iselle to walk headfirst into her back.

“Watch it!” The woman hissed, turning her head round to glare at the girl. “We’ll make camp here for the night and make the bridge tomorrow.”
Iselle blinked, unsure if she’d heard the woman correctly. “W- here?” She asked incredulously.

The woman huffed again. “If’n that’s too lowborn for yer soft little arse, feel free t’ try your luck with the forest.” She muttered before starting back towards the stream again.

Iselle watched her go, looking down at the woman and then back up at the forest, now looking particularly menacing as a black mass of gnarled trees stretching all the way down the bank, containing all manner of nastiness.

Swallowing, she simply sat down on a rock and hugged her knees to her chest whilst the woman gathered firewood, shivering a bit in the cool night air.

The amazon returned a few moments later, carrying large piles of lumber on each broad shoulder and setting them down on the little patch of ground they’d cleared off next to the stream. Iselle watched the woman strike a stone against the axe she’d taken, producing sparks that set the tinder alight.

Once the fire was burning nicely, the woman took out her water skin, and once again, drained it of all its contents. Like before, Iselle could not help but imagine where all that water was going, but she knew better than to implore the woman to slow down. Perhaps she had been lying about the scenthounds...it was a rather ridiculous notion, after all; dogs who are trained to track urine? What a tale…

Or maybe, she really was planning to just hold it in, the whole time…

Iselle watched as the woman went back down to the stream to refill her skin before coming back up, dragging a rock over, and laying down with her head against it.

“Here.” She murmured, tossing the girl the skin. “Best keep hydrated, ‘specially out here.”

The girl frowned, looking down at the rather rustic-looking waterskin. After a glance back up at the woman, she uncorked it and tipped the skin back over her mouth, taking care not to touch it to her lips. The water was cool and clear, and as she drank, Iselle realized how thirsty she was. Before she knew it, she’d drained the whole thing, and when she handed it back to the woman, it was with an apologetic grimace. The woman merely huffed, snatching it back and reattaching it to her hip before crossing her burly arms. “Just go to sleep. We leave at dawn.”

~~~

Unsurprisingly, Iselle had a tough time getting to sleep. Her traveling partner was clearly accustomed to such spartan surroundings, having fallen asleep within moments, but Iselle simply could not get comfortable on the hard ground with only a stone for a pillow.

When at last she did manage to doze off, it felt like she’d closed her eyes for a mere few minutes before she found herself shaken awake, and aware of two things. One, her grumbling stomach alerted her to the fact that she hadn’t eaten since yesterday morning, and two, her bladder hadn’t been emptied since the pot last night.

“Rise n’ shine, pup, day’s awastin’. We got a lot of ground to cover, and I ain’t keen on stayin’ in this forest another night.”

Iselle sat up, rubbing one of her eyes and nursing a strange stiffness in her neck. The woman had clearly been up for a while; Iselle could see the remnants of a cooking fire, and a smattering of fish bones around the pit...and in front of her were two of what she assumed were those same fish.

“Eat up…” The woman murmured, already drinking deeply from her waterskin again. Iselle once again was forced to imagine where that liquid was going...if the woman was telling the truth about those scenthounds, she was going to have to keep it corked up, all day… goodness, she’d certainly be bursting by the time they reached the castle. Iselle felt a shiver go up her spine just thinking about it…

“Oy, Princess.” The woman huffed, interrupting the Princess’s thoughts once again. “Eat. Yeh need yer strength, I’m sure as hell not gonna be carryin’ yeh all day.”

The Princess swallowed, nodding and looking down towards the whole roasted fish on the spit. She plucked one up, biting into the side as her eyes continued to stay on her stalwart companion. The woman finished off her waterskin, and as she headed back down towards the stream to refill it, the Princess was reminded of her own full “waterskin”… best take care of it now, while they were still at camp. But where? There was virtually no protection from prying eyes near the stream, and she was not keen on simply baring her arse for anyone to see. Perhaps she could simply wait…

Just then, she heard the warrior woman’s heavy footfalls behind her, and she turned just in time to see the woman dispose of the last of their spent firewood.

“We’re leaving in four minutes… anything needs doin, do it now, cause we’re not stoppin’ till we reach the bridge.”

The Princess blinked. “I-you mean we’re simply going to walk all day?”

The woman nodded. “Pretty much…Unless yeh forgot we’ve probably got a platoon of Yarthians after us...”

Iselle huffed. “Surely you can’t be serious, we can’t just walk the whole day! We’ll need to stop to eat again, at the very least, plus these shoes are certainly not made for-”

“Yeh want to get home, don’t yeh?” The woman interrupted, glaring down at the woman. “Sooner we reach that bridge, sooner we’re out o’ range of them scumrot Yarthians, and sooner I don’t have a whiny priss ridin’ me arse.”

The Princess pursed her lips again as the woman finished cleaning up their campsite. “Hmph...fine, I am ready now.”

“Like hell yeh are. Yeh still ain’t had a mornin’ piss.”

The Princess’s nostrils flared in indignation as her cheeks lit up. “Just what do you mean by-”

“When I said we ain’t stoppin’, I mean we ain’t stoppin.” The woman huffed. “Not even when yeh start hoppin’ up an’ down, hands buried between them pretty little legs of yours cause yeh didn’t go when yeh had the chance. It’s either here, or down your leg while we’re walkin’. Your choice.”

Iselle was constantly surprised by the woman’s crassness, her utter...blatancy about such issues. But she was right… Iselle already felt a decent pressure now. There was no way she’d be able to go all day without relief, and she certainly didn’t plan on weeing on herself like a little waif…With a huff, she swept towards the trees, hoping to at least find a bush or somewhere somewhat secluded.

As she popped a squat behind a few shrubs, she wondered what her compatriot must feel, having not even relieved herself since last night on the wall...and having consumed quite a lot since then, for reasons unclear…

When Iselle re-emerged, the woman was fastening the stolen sword to her waist, her face looked a little tight...and Iselle might’ve imagined it, but she could’ve sworn she saw a little bit of a bulge forming in the woman’s abdomen.

“Finished? Good, we’re already burnin’ daylight.”

~~~

After crossing the stream and into the dappled meadow fields, Iselle took a moment to marvel at just how wild and untamed everything looked. Back in Callimore, they had a dedicated group of gardeners who maintained the plant life around the castle, keeping it trim and tidy in a manner befitting the royal house...but here, where everything was allowed to flourish, unburdened and unbridled...it was its own beauty.

Of course, the woman ahead of her didn’t seem to think so, hacking and slashing the low hanging branches out of their way as they went along without so much as a second thought. This was how they spent the entire morning, save for a few pauses where the amazonian woman would refill her waterskin at a running river or clear-looking pond.

What happened to “we’re not stoppin’”? The Princess thought sardonically, but she didn’t voice her complaints...she still wasn’t completely certain this towering woman wouldn’t snap her neck if pushed too hard.

They made camp again that evening, with the woman catching more fish and drinking more water. Iselle was more than happy to excuse herself for another wee in the woods, but when she came back, she could see a definitely bulge had formed in the woman’s navel. She really was serious about not peeing… part of Iselle looked forward to learning just *how* serious...

The next day was the same...hours of walking, and of drinking on the woman’s part...and Iselle might’ve been reading too much into it, but it looked as though her gait were getting stiffer the longer they went on.

After a little while longer, they reached their first real halt in the path. A ravine, too wide to jump and too deep to climb down.

Iselle frowned, looking up at the woman for a solution, but the woman was already rewinding the rope around the axe.

Iselle blinked. “What are you doing?”

The woman ignored the princess, continuing to wind the rope and tying it off before swinging and tossing it up to a branch, where it wrapped around and pulled tau. The woman gave it a couple tugs before turning to Iselle. “Grab hold of me.”

The Princess reddened. “I...I beg your-”

“Shut your yappin’ and grab hold of me, we ain’t got all day.” The woman huffed, taking Iselle’s arm and yanking her close. Iselle yelped as she was pulled, blushing a bit at the amazon’s hand on her waist, but before she could say anything else, the woman took a running leap with her in tow. Iselle had to stifle a scream as they swung across the ravine, now clutching the woman hard around the middle...were she any less terrified, she would’ve enjoyed feeling the hard little bump in the woman’s abdomen; over a gallon of water and not letting it out for two days, it was a wonder she wasn’t pissing her trousers. As they landed on the other side, the woman was laughing, amused by the fright on Iselle’s face.

“Heh heh…let’s keep movin’.”

~

The rest of the morning and afternoon was one long walk. Iselle had been careful to drink only enough water to keep hydrated, knowing her companion was unlikely to stop so she could tinkle. Conversely, the woman seemed to drink even more, to the point where Iselle was sure her bladder had to be bursting. And yet, outside of a stiffer walk or a slight abdominal bulge, the woman showed no outward signs of needing a wee...none that Iselle could parse through, anyways.

The woman continued hacking her way through the brush, her muscles rippling in her sweat-slicked arms. Iselle found herself staring more than she maybe should’ve, but she couldn’t help the tingle in her core every time she saw the woman’s chiseled back flexing with every swing.

Before she knew it, the trees were thinning. They emerged onto a hill that crested into an open knoll, where a little ways away stood an ornate bridgepost, connected to a bridge spanning a ravine even wider than the one they’d swung across. A splashing roar sounded in her ears...this bridge must’ve been built over a river.

Iselle approached the woman, who was already peering towards. “What’s this?”

The woman looked down, frowning. “Blimey, yeh don’t know anythin’ outside of home, do yeh. That there’s the Endsgate bridge, Princess. Border of Callimore’s just a little ways away on the other side...We should reach it by nightfall.”

Iselle felt her heart leap for joy… it hadn’t been the most horrible couple days, but the thought of home was still quite lovely.

The woman turned to her. “Settlin’ this here and now. I want gold, up front. Once yer old man pays, I let you go, and not a second before, savvy?”

Iselle swallowed, but she nodded.

The woman huffed through her nose. “Good. Now, let’s-”

“There they are!” A voice called from behind them. Iselle whirled around just in time to see horses burst through the treeline, each topped with an armored man in teal and silver...the colors of Yarth. “Stop right there!”

Iselle yelped, turning to the woman. “They’ve found us!? But I thought-”

“Shut up and run!” The woman shouted, taking off in a run down the bridge. Iselle bolted after her, running as fast as her legs would carry her.

“W-why are we doing this!” She called. “We can’t outrun them forever!”

“We don’t need to!” the woman called. “We just need to get across the bridge!”

It was coming up...the end of the bridge was getting closer, but so was the brigade behind them, Iselle could hear them closing in.

She sprinted even faster...just a little farther…

Just then, a flaming arrow sailed overhead, piercing the right bridge post and setting it on fire. Iselle screeched to halt, shielding her face from the heat of the blaze as more and more flaming arrows pierced the bridge, sending more of it up in flames. Slats felt out and into the waters below, and the rope was snapping under the heat and pressure. The bridge pitched and yawned, threatening to collapse completely. The fire crept closer, stranding them in the middle.

“W-what do we do now!?” Iselle cried. The amazon woman set her jaw, looking round before looking at Iselle. “Grab hold of me, and don’t let go.” She huffed. Iselle didn’t need telling twice, grappling the woman.

“Oy, mercenary!” one of the men called. “Give us the Princess, and your debts and transgressions against the crown of Yarth will be forgiven!”
Iselle looked up at the woman, who had clenched her jaw again as Iselle’s arms dug into her ever-filling bladder.

“Hold your breath.” She grunted.

“What? Why wouldddaaAAAAHHH!” Iselle cried as the woman leapt off the bridge, followed by a hail of arrows.

Iselle took a deep breath just before they plunged into the water, shutting her eyes tight and holding on the woman with all her might. Darkness and water swirled around her, getting in her nose, making her cough and take in even more. Her lungs screamed for air, and she felt her head getting hazy...getting...dizzy…

~~~

Iselle awoke with a start, coughing up water and gasping for breath as the woman sat beside her on the riverbank, stoking a fire. She sat up, shivering and freezing as she looked around. “W-what happened? Where are we?”

“Bout 50 leagues west of the border.” The woman muttered. “We got swept away in the current, couldn’t pull us out till we got to gentler waters.”

Iselle swallowed, still wheezing. “H-how far is that from home?”

The woman huffed. Three or four days, give or take.”

Iselle swallowed, looking around. She didn’t recognize these woods...but the woman seemed to, even if-”

Her eyes widened as they fell upon the arrow shaft sticking out of the woman’s arm. “Y-you’re hurt!” She exclaimed.

The woman grunted. “I’m fine.”

Iselle swallowed, looking at the arrow. “But...but it could become infected...We need to treat it.”

The woman looked at her. “Yeh know how to treat arrow wounds?”

Iselle nodded. “As a matter of fact I do. Part of my ‘fancy lessons from my ivory tower’.”

She reached down, grabbing the meadskin. “This is going to hurt.” She murmured before grabbing the arrow and slowly pulling it out. The woman grimaced, gritting her teeth, but she didn’t cry out.

Once the arrow was free, Iselle tore off a piece of her dress, soaked it in water and began cleaning out the wound. “So...that’s it, then…”

The woman looked up. “Eh?”

Iselle looked up at her. “Those scenthounds...you’ll pee eventually, and they’ll find us…”

The woman huffed, turning back to the fire. “I told you...I’m not gonna let them catch my scent.”

Iselle blinked. “But it’s been days-”

“-And I’m gonna hold it.” The woman said, cutting the girl off with a glare. “I got plenty of room left, I’ll drink the whole river if I wanna, savvy?”

Iselle clammed up. She’d have been delighted in the fact that she’d get to see the woman’s bladder balloon up even more if she wasn’t worried that the woman’s arrogance would get them killed. But, no need to go on being antagonistic now…

“Well...erm, thank you, for saving me from the river…” She murmured, continuing to dab at the wound.

The woman huffed. “Can’t collect a bounty on a dead princess, can I?”

Iselle pursed her lips, continuing to clean the wound. “Even so...it was very brave. And you didn’t give me over to them, either…”

The woman huffed again. “Turn you over to those two-bit lowlife scumrot pigs? I’ll take you home with me ‘fore I let them get their hands on you… No woman should have to suffer at the hands of men...yeh deserve better’n that, at least...” 

Iselle felt a small smile creep onto her lips. “And here I thought you were going to keep pretending not to be honorable. You know… you remind me of someone, back home. Ser Ashelin Waldethor, The Captain of the Callimore Guard. First woman in the position, actually... Hell of a fighter, she saved my caravan from bandits. It’s what got her the post. You could have one too, if you ever wanted… Euna knows I’d vouch for you…?”

“-Brynna.”

Iselle looked up. “Pardon?”

The woman swallowed. “M’name’s Brynna. Brynna Carth. Figure we’re bout as familiar as any two strangers can be, now...”

Iselle nodded. “Brynna...that’s a nice name. Strong and beautiful, like its owner.”

Brynna huffed. “Don’t patronize me, pup...just cause yeh may not be quite as useless annoyin’ as I thought yeh were don’t mean yeh get to talk all cute n’ soft to me…”

Iselle’s grin widened. “So you think it’s cute?”

Brynna scowled, but the truth was already out. Iselle plucked the piece of her dress drying on the fire and wrapped it around Brynna’s arm, making sure it was tight enough to stay on.

“Heh...probably the only chance I’ll have to wear silks…” She murmured, watching Iselle work.

Iselle only smiled in response. “When we get home, I’ll make sure you have enough to buy all the silks you want.” She said softly.

They slept a short while, waking early in the morning to start back up the river. With Brynna’s left arm somewhat incapacitated, she had to teach Iselle how to forage, and set small rudimentary traps. The Princess tried her best, and managed to even snare some small game, but it was very clear how dependent upon Brynna she was. This went on for a few days; Every night they’d find space along the bank to rest, and Iselle would change Brynna’s bandages. At this time, she’d see how pronounced the bulge in the woman’s abdomen was getting. Five days, and not a single drop of piss… But despite it all, the woman powered through.

Even when they were caught by a stowed brigade, and Brynna had to fight them all one handed, even taking a spear hilt to the bladder, she didn’t break. The roughlands challenged them even more, the heat getting such that they hardly left the river bank, taking time to drink when they could and (for Iselle) to pee, but Brynna kept it corked up. They’d had to scale a cliff face using the rope from before, and as Iselle wrapped her legs around Brynna’s waist, she could almost comfortably rest her legs on the curve of Brynna’s bloated bladder.

Iselle got more and more comfortable with being outdoors. She’d tore her dress in two and sewn the halves separately to make makeshift trousers, and had taken to practicing with a little hunting knife to defend and hunt, even managing to bring down a doe with it.

“Not bad, pup…” Brynna had chuckled, though the tightness on her face prevented her from laughing fully.
Iselle had gotten lax about toilet matters as well, to the point where one day she simply lifted her leg against a tree and let loose, sighing as her pee ran into the roots below. Brynna was always nearby, pointedly not looking as her bladder seemed to get even fuller at the sound of Iselle’s relief. She had to be beyond desperate by now, and Iselle could tell the pressure was getting to her every time she’d bend over or cock her hips or rub her abdomen when she thought Iselle wasn’t looking.

After over six total days of walking, they finally reached the mouth of the river.

“Not far now…” Brynna grunted, now looking nearly pregnant with pee as she soldiered on. “Border of Callimore is close.”

Iselle nodded, looking up. “It’s getting dark. Maybe we should make camp…”

Brynna shook her head. “There’s a hamlet a little ways away. An old friend of mine lives there, owes me a favor. They got a farm...we can bunk there for the night, should be safe.” the woman grunted, trying futilely to keep concealed just how full the swollen bladder between her legs really was.

Much as she wanted to focus on the woman’s bulging abdomen, the prospect of some sort of shelter, even a modest sort, immediately took over Iselle’s mind. After the days of wandering the countryside and keeping ahead of those Yarthian goons, a village didn’t sound too bad.

She followed excitedly after the woman as they continued their trek down the craggy pass, eventually coming upon a squat collection of huts and abodes encircled by a low stone wall. The bedraggled pair staggered up to it, looking right stunted; Iselle from exhaustion, and Brynna from holding back litres of pee for days longer than she’d expected to.

As they reached the farmhouse, Brynna turned to Iselle. “Stay here…” She murmured, handing her a knife. “Don’t talk t’ anyone till I come out and get you, understood?”

Iselle nodded, taking the dagger. Brynna turned and strode into the small house, leaving Iselle standing outside.
The town looked innocuous enough...small, quaint and sleepy, like any of the outlying villages in Callimore. Given that they were still in the Deeplands, she figured her name wouldn’t carry a lot of weight, but she still would much rather have been by Brynna’s side right now...for strategic purposes, of course.

A moment later, the amazon woman re-emerged, and it looked as though her swollen bladder had already gotten larger. “C’mon. Barn’s out back.”

~~

Moments later the pair were situated on a pile of straw covered in quilts...despite the ramshackle nature of the bedding, it was like a royal cotton mattress to Iselle’s exhausted body.

She looked over at Brynna lying next to her, legs pressed together as her swollen bladder stuck straight up in the air. Iselle could only think about the woman’s fight against the Yarthian mercenaries, how she dispatched them so easily… she could pee whenever she wanted, and it wouldn’t matter cause she’d be able to protect herself… but Iselle couldn’t, so she held it in…”

“Brynna…?” Iselle murmured softly.

The amazon woman turned to her, her face tight with discomfort.

Iselle swallowed. “I- thank you, for everything… Saving me from the river, a-and...and those guards…”

Brynna huffed gently. “Nng...I said I’d get you home, and I’m...nng, I’m a woman of my word, pup.” She said softly.

Iselle wrestled with her next question before curiosity overcame her. “If we’re really depending on you not relieving yourself to stay safe, why is it you drink so much?”

Brynna let out a dry laugh at that, to Iselle’s surprise. “You can thank those Yarthian bastards for that. Had their alchemists whip up some sorta draught, makes you thirstier’n a daffodil in a desert. Gotta keep well-hydrated so I don’t pass out, and another bit of insurance against us escapin’... even if we drink enough to stave off the potion’s effects, any regular person would be pissing themselves before they even got out of sight of the castle. Luckily for us, I’m not regular.” She smirked before wincing through another pang in her distended bladder. “Fuck if I wouldn’t love a good slash right now, though…”

Iselle frowned. “Are you-”

“I’m fine.” The woman huffed “I’ll fill up to me eyeballs in piss ‘fore I let them get us. They couldn’t break me in Yarth, and they won’t break me now. I’m strong...you’re strong, too, yeh just don’t know it yet.”

The Princess continued peering at Brynna for a while longer, as if wrestling with something inside herself. “...Goodnight, Brynna…” She murmured after a moment, snuggling down into the hay and closing her eyes.

After what felt like merely a moment, she was shaken awake.

“Iselle. Iselle. Wake up, fuckin’ wake up!” Brynna hissed, shaking the young Princess.

Iselle blearily opened her eyes, rubbing at them. “Huh? Wuzzat, what’s goin’ on?” She murmured sleepily.

Brynna had already gotten to her feet, cinching her effects back to her waist, now almost entirely obscured by her bulbous bladder.

Just then, the sound of hooves and clanging armor sounded in the distance, getting closer and closer...they were in the town.

Iselle bolted upright, leaping to her feet and hurrying to the door to peer through the crack. Just as she thought, the same platoon of Yarthian guards they’d encountered at the bridge was back...how had they tracked them here?

She turned back to Brynna, who had already lifted a couple slats out of the back of the barn. “Nng...come on, pup, you first…” She muttered.

Iselle did as instructed, crawling out the narrow opening and turning to help Brynna do the same. It was a bit harder for the woman, given her larger frame and egregiously engorged middle. Brynna actually groaned as the wooden slats squeezed her bladder from either side, as if doing their best to squeeze her pent up urine from her before she popped through the other side. She staggered to her feet, leaning against the barn for a moment. Iselle watched the woman slide up and down the wall, powerful thighs twisted about like sailing knots. Were they not in danger, Iselle would’ve surely taken time to enjoy the sight.

Finally, Brynna seemed to get herself under control enough so that she could start moving. “Let’s go. Now.” She hissed, hurrying away from the barn and into the grassy meadow behind it. Not even a moment later, a call rang out. “Captain! The barn!”

“Into the trees…” Brynna muttered as they approached the outskirts of the grove. “Hurry!”

The two took off into a full run as the guard bore down on the barn they’d just been sleeping in. Iselle struggled to keep up with the amazon, whose sprint was incredible even as a swollen bladder bounced up and down within her.

Try as she might, Iselle felt herself falling a bit behind. “B-Brynna!” She wheezed, every breath feeling like she were inhaling fire.

The amazon woman stopped, bending over at the hip before turning towards Iselle. She set her jaw. “Nng...Hop on.” She muttered, pointing a thumb at her back.

Iselle blinked, hardly able to believe what the woman was suggesting, but the voices behind her getting louder cleared up her hesitation. She hurried towards the woman, climbing up on her back. She hooked her legs around the front, earning a prolonged groan from Brynna as her heels dug into the taut flesh of her protruding bladder.

Still, the woman took off running, moving with a power and dexterity that was surprising given her two burdens.

Iselle merely clung to her rescuer, trying not to press her ankles into Brynna’s bladder too much… after all, the woman’s prodigious muscles were the only things keeping them from being completely vulnerable.

Finally, they reached the trees, and Brynna dove headfirst into the brush without even breaking her stride. They continued on like this for a few more minutes before Brynna began to slow down and eventually stop, letting Iselle down as her chest heaved with exertion.

Iselle swallowed, looking behind her… The voices and sounds of horsemen had stopped. They were safe.

She looked to Brynna, who had taken a moment to sit down, leaning against a tree. “H-how did they find us?”

Brynna was still breathing heavily, cradling her bladder with one hand and propping herself up with the other. “R-rat bastard...sold us out…” She huffed. Iselle tried to ignore the woman’s ample bust heaving with every breath. “We… we have to keep going.”

Iselle swallowed, nodding. She extended her hands to help the woman up, pulling with all her might to get the amazon woman to her feet.

They continued into the forest, though this time, Iselle took the lead. Brynna was exhausted from carrying them both, and her remaining strength was dedicated to keeping her pelvic sphincter locked tight...that was the one muscle she couldn’t have give way.

They walked far into the night, Iselle brandishing Brynna’s sword as they stumbled through the shadowy woods. The only times they stopped were to refill the waterskin to keep Brynna from collapsing under the effects of the potion, and then they would be off again.

After a short while, Brynna regained enough of her vitality to take the lead again, but it was still slow going. The woman’s gait was stunted, jerky, and twitching this way and that as the contents of her too-long held bladder pulsed within her, having been denied purely on the woman’s will alone…. She had to be beyond bursting, and yet she confined herself to merely a little wiggle or tensing of thighs...Iselle would’ve been hopping up and down right now if she was holding even a fraction of the pee the woman behind her was… and she was holding it in just for her…
Before she knew it, the sky began to change. First, inky black became navy blue, then steel grey before slowly becoming overrun with streaks of gold, scarlet and purple as the day began to overtake the night. As light returned to the world, Iselle got a clear look at her surroundings...these trees were mostly birch, oak and pine...a far cry from the cypress and spruce of Yarth.

They broke through the treeline just as the sun was peeking over the horizon, and in the distance they could just make out a castle. Iselle’s castle.

They’d made it back to Callimore.

She turned to Brynna with excitement. “Brynna! We’re back in Callimore!” She exclaimed.

Brynna leaned against a tree, squinting into the morning sun. A weak smile formed on her face, and she let out a bit of a chuckle. “So we are. Bout bloody time…” She muttered, causing Iselle to giggle.

Brynna pushed herself upright, taking a deep breath and starting down the narrow slope, biting back a curse as each step down was a jackknife in her seam-splitting bladder. Iselle couldn’t take her eyes off it...despite the brilliant sunrise, the bulbous aching bladder contained behind the soft squirming mons of Brynna’s was the loveliest thing she could see.

Brynna seemed to catch her staring once again, but rather than say anything, she just gave a little smirk. “C’mon, then…Castle’s awaitin’...We should make it there by nightfall”

Iselle reddened a bit, folding her hands in front of her before looking up. “We...you know, perhaps we needn’t hurry… we’re home now, the Yarthians wouldn’t dare cross our borders...there’s an inn, a little ways into the valley. We can rest there for a spell…” She murmured, her eyes still drifting to Brynna’s bulbous abdomen.

The amazon woman frowned before another spasm rocked her bladder. “Nng...inn sounds good…” She groaned, following Iselle down into the glen.

By the time they reached the little village, it seemed Brynna was reaching the end of her tether...and unsurprising, given that she’d held back a deluge of hot, steaming piss for over a week, all while taking care of the both of them with nothing but her muscles and her own determination to keep her from flooding her trousers. Whatever she was about to gush forth, Iselle knew she wanted to be there to see it.

“Come… just a little further…” She murmured softly even as Brynna staggered along behind her.

“Nn...haaa…” The woman groaned. “L-let’s just hurry...Lusione’s tists, I’m fuckin’ busting…” she breathed, sending a delightful shiver up Iselle’s spine.

The pair made it to the village just as the sun cleared the tops of the forest. Iselle quickened her stride. Brynna was clearly moments away from giving her surroundings a thorough bath, they had to be quick.

She pulled them into the nearest inn, striding past a young sweeping boy up to the counter. The innkeeper turned as she heard customers. “Morning, and welcome to my i- Princess!?” She gasped.

Iselle nodded. “I need a room, please. With a large chamber pot…”

Suddenly, she felt Brynna’s lips near her ear, her breath shaky as she whispered. “T-two…”

Iselle felt nearly faint with arousal. “Make that two large chamber pots.”

The innkeeper blinked, looking round at Brynna, her eyes widening even more. “Isn’t that… Isn’t she-”

“She is my retainer.” Iselle interrupted. “And she is under my protection. Whatever crimes or slights she is charged with, consider them pardoned. Now, the room and the pots, miss, lest things get rather...damp.”

The woman merely swallowed and nodded, gesturing to the sweeper to fetch the pots.

Moments later, the pair were in a room, and the sweeper was dragging in two large chamber pots. “These the biggest we have… Reckon they’ll-”

“Yeah, thanks kid, now get out.” Brynna huffed, shoving the boy out the door and slamming it shut before jamming a hand into her crotch, her thick thighs scissoring around her hand as she throws her head back in agony. “Fuck, fuck fuck I gotta piss…” she growls.
Iselle can hardly stand it, she’s so aroused… and there was nothing more she wanted than to watch the woman gush into those pots, but there was no way she’d be able to explain that.

“I’ll give you some privacy…” She murmured, swallowing and moving towards the door.

“You stop right there.” Brynna hissed, causing Iselle to freeze in her tracks.

The Amazon pushed herself off the door, hand still buried between her thighs. “Yeh think I’m stupid, pup?”

Iselle blinked. “Stupid? I don’t-”

“Yeh think I didn’t notice you askin’ all those questions about me bladder, starin’ at me when I drink or fidget around?” Despite the immense pain she must’ve been in, a smirk still appeared on Brynna’s sweat-slicked face. “Yeh been gettin off on thinkin’ about me holdin’ my piss this whole time, haven’t yeh.”

Iselle’s face went beet red. “I-I’m sure I don’t know what you’re-”

Brynna chuckled again. “Fuckin’ thought so. Little Miss Prim and Proper, a dirty little strumpet. Come on, then…” She muttered, already undoing her trousers.

Iselle felt as though she could hardly breathe. “Come...what?”

Brynna bit her lip. “I been aching for this piss forever. Don’t tell me yeh don’t wanna see it.”

Iselle swallowed; she’d been caught. All she could do was stand there as Brynna kicked off her trousers, straddling the pot, and after over week of drinking and denying herself the explosive relief she finally craved, Brynna let out a yell as her golden nectar sprayed forth from her tender lips, hitting the bottom of the pot with such force it was as though Euna had opened up the heavens for their rain.

Iselle was paralyzed...watching the pee rope out from between the woman’s sculpted thighs was more than she could bear, and before she knew it, she’d strode forward, pressing her lips against Brynna’s as she slid a hand against her still-pissing labia, rubbing back and forth with quick strokes.

Brynna grunted into the Princess’s mouth as her swollen bladder deflated, and her equally swollen labia felt hotter and hotter until she was bucking her hips into the Princess’s plae, dainty hand.

Suddenly, she pulled away, much to Iselle’s dismay. “Hold on…” She cut off her flow, grimacing as she moved the full pot away. No sooner had she pulled the empty one underneath her than her stream started again, and she proceeded to stick her tongue back down the Princess’s throat. She resumed humping her hand until, with an uncharacteristically girlish squeal, she climaxed all over the Princess’s fingers. Iselle was so primed and ready, as soon as she felt Brynna clench around her fingers, she shuddered through her own orgasm, her unspoiled flower gushing with her virginal juices.

The two women pulled apart, a strand of saliva still connecting their lips.

The Princess merely stared at Brynna, her breath coming in short, ragged bursts. “Wow...t-that was-”

“Yeah.” Brynna interrupted, licking her lips with a libertine grin. “Now, what’s this about bein’ your retainer?”

THE END

[Cy_The_Fox 22]

God I wanna hear more about those 2

[KnightofStars 27]

This was incredible! I loved the entire thing, especially the ending~. Ladies having to hold it for a long, long time and then finally get their relief is the BEST. And gosh, the relief (and relief) at the end was superb~. Always love seeing your stories, and I can't wait to see more. Especially if there's more to see of these two, or perhaps we could see the princess seeking out more big-bladdered ladies, perhaps in the town by the castle in disguise, or just in the castle proper; I'm sure there's a cute maid that has to hold it all day while working~.

[OmoLem 8]

That was really really good, I'd love to read more about the two of them

[Lameone24 25]

Part 2 please

[OneMoreDrop 3]

Awesome write 👀 keep it up!

[Foxlover 815]

Thank you all for the kind words! Honestly I never thought about making a sequel but my curiosity has been piqued lol, so we'll see

[DerivativeWings 1,472]

I must admit I was hoping for a bit of duo desperation at the end there, but Foxlover writing is always a good ride. Neat story! Hope you got something nice for yourself with the comm money.

[warham1995 1,258]

i agree with @KnightofStars idea of writing a story about princess Iselle seeking out more big-bladdered ladies. also nice callback to wayward magi with the princess mentioning Ser Ashelin