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Walking corpes? I also made a char and play (somebody needs to heal :P) with linkx and infi and was amazed how many people are one on the fleet most of the times. Because on my "home" server (where I have all my chars :< ) on EU it's maybe 50+ on a good day... T.T

 

What I mean to say is that Ebon Hawk has more roleplayers at downtime hours than BC has at peak. We have 80+ in the middle of the night, 300+ during peak. We have to have 3 separate instances of fleet sometimes.

 

Then again, I don't mean to bash your server. BC is my old server and I feel obligated to warn people how much it sucked. I always hated how rare the roleplay was, and how the cantina roleplay was basically 90% people trying to ERP.

 

Not that I'm not going to ERP with you guys... I mean... how rare is it that you meet someone who will ERP our fetish?

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Hello, everybody. My name is Attica. Clearly, that isn't my real name, but that's what I would like to be known as. I've been a long time lurker, first time poster. I understand that perhaps this post

Wow this is so good

Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, but I understand. I hope you won't be gone forever, though! I'll (probably) still be around if you want to collaborate down the road.

What I mean to say is that Ebon Hawk has more roleplayers at downtime hours than BC has at peak. We have 80+ in the middle of the night, 300+ during peak. We have to have 3 separate instances of fleet sometimes.

 

Then again, I don't mean to bash your server. BC is my old server and I feel obligated to warn people how much it sucked. I always hated how rare the roleplay was, and how the cantina roleplay was basically 90% people trying to ERP.

No worries, I probably would bash my server myself if I didn't have all my "stuff/progress" there... (man I wish legacy would be account wide).

 

Not that I'm not going to ERP with you guys... I mean... how rare is it that you meet someone who will ERP our fetish?

Never did any (E)RP but I guess not a lot ;)

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  • 3 months later...
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Hello everybody. I'm sorry that it's taken me so long to post another story in this thread. I've been very distracted lately. I recently quit playing SWTOR, so it's hard for me to want to write star wars fiction. I started playing WoW again, though, so, I think I will put my star wars story, The Subjugation of Arcadia Banes, on the backburner, and start writing another chapter of The Death God's Pet. I've been eager to see this story go a little further. This next chapter will contain just a little omo content, but I mostly want to write it to advance the story, and to also get a little shock value. Without further ado, here goes nothing.

 

 

The Death God's Pet

Chapter 3

 

 

Sunlight streamed in through the windows of Excella's luxurious bedroom, massive stained glass windows painted with figures of the 

draenei herself, as well as the mansion's previous baroness. Colorful lights danced across the room, but luckily were blocked by the thinly veiled curtain around the giant four poster bed that Excella, and now her newest pet, Ella, slept in. Ella awoke from the faint light, finding herself alone in the warm, lush sheets, sitting halfway upright and looking around. Through the thinly veiled curtain she could see the figure of her mistress- she pulled the cord which drew the curtain back, and smiled happily at her lover. 

"Good morning," the human with the tawny hair called to her mistress. Excella looked over at her for just a moment, before turning her 

attention back to the full length mirror she stood in front of. Ella realized the pale, white haired alien was completely naked, and her cheeks turned pinkish with a blush. "Good morning, pet," The draenei replied in that authoritative tone of voice she always had. "I trust you slept well." Behind her, a mousy, nervous little blonde human was taking her measurements, not even looking at Ella as she was focused on her task. The brown haired human frowned. "Who is that?" She asked.

"This is my serving girl, one of many. Yet she hasn't been fully broken yet," Excella said with a smirk, looking over her shoulder at the girl before

putting her hands down, finished with her measurements. She pulled the body length mirror open to reveal her armoire behind it, flicking through the various dresses and gowns she had hanging in it. "I do not trust her, unlike my other servants. She's too new." The blonde looked ashamed of herself, hanging her head just slightly. She was dressed in a typical black and white maid's outfit, with thick white leggings and little black heels. She gave a courteous bow to the human still naked in her bed, and said nothing, having not yet been addressed. "She has not yet earned the honor of being called by name, but she insists her name is Seliyne. Ingratiate yourself to my pet, Seliyne," The bossy draenei ordered, still sifting through her

dresser to find the perfect outfit.

The blonde, thin little serving girl with her hair done up in a neat little ponytail immediately got on her hands and knees, giving an absurdly 

subservient bow to Ella, her nose just millimeters from the ground. Ella blushed at the attention she was receiving. "I-It is my pleasure, to be allowed the honor of introducing myself to Mistresses lover," She said nervously, as if she were terrified of Excella. Ella felt a little discomforted by the over-the-top bowing and scraping. "Y-you can stand," Ella said as she tugged the blankets around her chest. "It's... it's a pleasure to meet you too."

"You needn't bother being too nice to this one," Excella said as she picked out her dress, an elegant white dress with flowery purple patterns 

embroidered into it, laying it across a nearby chair as she picked out her lingerie to wear underneath of it. "I have my suspicions that she's with SI:7. That she's a worm, a little spy in my midst- an insect I am all too happy to squash," Excella said, punctuating her sentence by putting her hoof on the back of the bowing girl's head, forcing her face against the carpet. "I will find you out, little girl, and if I am displeased with the truth, you will suffer. Horribly." Seliyne swallowed and a bead of sweat ran down her forehead, and she quivered and meekly replied, "I-I will do my best to please you, mistress."

Excella found this amusing. She laughed, and removed her hoof.

"You will, will you? Would you humiliate yourself? Stand up. Bend yourself over and present your backside to my pet," Excella ordered, 

stepping into a pair of tight fitting, lacy black panties, with a hole cut in the back for her tail. Seliyne blushed furiously, but she was a good servant. She did not protest. She turned and bent over, and her black maid skirt stiff enough that when she bent, she showed off her bottom. Considering what a wiry little thing she was, she had a pleasant figure, and a pleasing, round backside. Ella blushed at the sight of it, but she did not look away. To have so much power, that she could order this girl to do literally anything... she felt herself grow hot again already, even after the deviance of last night.

"Would you like to see her humiliate herself, pet?" The pale draenei asked Ella, who was biting her lower lip, already craving to touch and 

ravish this poor girl, who existed only to serve her and her mistresses every whim. She had an idea of what the draenei meant... and she was aroused by the concept, very aroused. She meekly nodded. "I... I would like to see," She replied, to which Excella smiled with approval. "Good girl. You heard her, servant. She wants to see you humiliated. Empty your bladder, this instant."

Seliyne didn't protest, but she wasn't pleased by the look on her face. She closed her eyes and bit her lip, giving a little shudder, her hands 

placed on her knees for support, she gave an adorable little gasp- "O-ooh..." as she complied with the demand. Ella's eyes went wide as she saw the inside of the girl's thick white leggings start to go dark, rivulets starting to run down the back of her thighs. She was shamelessly wetting herself, all because of her demands. Ella went red in the face at the realization of how much authority and power she had, even though she was just Excella's pet. She couldn't help but start to stroke the inside of her thighs, as she watched all those rivulets join together into a glistening dark patch running down both of the blonde maid's thighs. Seliyne gasped and started to breathe heavily as she felt the slightest pleasure from what she was being forced to do. "A-ahh... I... I needed to go... anyway..."

The tawny haired human watched and touched herself. It fascinated her. Excella had slowly been turning her onto this fetish, but she didn't 

realize what pleased the draenei so much about it until now. That she had the power to control this blonde wenches very bodily functions... it was so -lewd-, so raunchy, so unacceptable and wrong, and that was what she loved about it. The gentle sound of a steady -Hhhssshhhh- filled the room as the woman relieved herself, her thighs quivering, biting her lip and shutting her eyes, the wetness starting to creep past her knees, down the back of her legs, dripping off her heels and puddling on the royal purple carpet beneath her feet. There was a tidemark running up her beautiful plump bottom, and Ella was transfixed.

"Are you about done?" The draenei baroness said with a sigh, tugging her dress over her body, running her hands down it to smooth out any 

wrinkles. The nervous maid swallowed and nodded obediently. "I-I'm finished..." "Good," Excella replied sharply, coming over and smacking her on the bottom. "You filthy bitch. Clean yourself up, and dress my pet. She must be prepared for breakfast this morning," She said as she trotted across the room to the door, her hooves clicking on the carpet. "W-what are we having?" Ella asked, glad to momentarily distract herself from the sheer eroticism of the act she had just witnessed.

Excella looked over her shoulder as she reached the door, and grinned smugly. "Whatever you desire, my love," She said, as she left the room,

the massive double doors slamming shut behind her.

 

 

 

~~~~

 

That's all I can manage for now. I'll do more very soon, I promise

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  • 3 weeks later...
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Hello everybody, I'm sorry it's once again been so long. I've been getting a bit too lazy, not wanting to write... too many changes in my life right now for that. Fortunately for those of you that enjoy my stories, I'm being... *blush* ordered... to work on another installment for you. I got back into The Old Republic, on my old server, so I believe that I have enough inspiration to put in another chapter of The Subjugation of Arcadia Banes. The torture scene in the next one is probably going to be a little cringe worthy...

 

The Subjugation of Arcadia Banes

Part IV

 

      Days began to blend into one, and slowly the victim's mind was changing. Mizori Maqis was good at what she did- there was more to this torture than just obtaining information. Her master had given her a very specific command- to break her. Cruelty came naturally to the intelligence agent- After all, she had learned it was true, all people are scum. Living on the streets of Nar Shaddaa, the people there were scum. Working in the lower levels of Imperial Intelligence, alongside other aliens, non force-sensitives- they were scum. They were all scum because none of them could be trusted- betrayal lurked around every corner, and in the darkness of the empire deep down all people were drenched with sin. But it wasn't because they were so cruel to her that she hated them- no, she hated them because they always failed. They came short of achieving the true clarity of mind that a Sith Lord could obtain. Like her master... washing up in her refresher, she trembled at the thought of him. Her hand wandered down between her thighs. She touched herself. She wished that it was his fingers instead of hers.

     A sith made no excuses for the way that they acted- for the things that they did. They genuinely enjoyed the blood that flowed, the pain that was inflicted, and the domination that ensued- not like those pretenders on the street, who justified what they stole or who they killed based off their own need. They're greedy, greedy greedy greedy- All of them! Everyone but the Sith, her masters, so generous they were as to share suffering with the whole galaxy. So Mizori caused suffering, because it was what they willed, and the empire became stronger for it, because it was what they willed, and she always came back successful- because it was what they willed. Mizori would break this wretched slave into pieces, and bring her to Darth Infinitus a woman just barely able to comprehend her inevitable fate- The first thing she would destroy is her heart...

     Oh, but it felt good to have a slave like her. The twi'lek's shower shut off, after a standard five minutes- she only had enough water for the both of them to wash five minutes a day, once a day. Her vessel was luxurious, but it was small, and held little in the way of resources, and intentionally stranded in secrecy so far away from the hyperspace lanes and the refill stations what resources she could carry were precious. Mizori wrapped herself in a towel and came out of her bathroom. Down the hall a bit, to where she saw her- her slave, still in her favorite pink nightie and silky tight pants that were stained from her repeated accidents. Her slave had gotten into her liquor cabinet. But Mizori wasn't upset- she smiled at the sight of her.

     She sat on the floor, her legs tucked underneath of her, the bottle half-empty clutched in her hand, staring at the holo, which was playing the same flick that she had watched three times already, and she looked to be the most pathetic, miserable thing. She had halfway attempted to do her own makeup, but she was forgetting how to do the things she did every single day without her mistress around, and it was a mess, mascara dripping down her cheeks from the crying. Mizori came over and knelt down, onto her knees, taking Mist and pulling her into her arms. "There, there," She cooed with mock sympathy, starting to pet her lekku as she put her head against her chest. "What's wrong this time, my pet? All you ever do is cry. And have accidents," She said, grinning viciously while the dark blue alien couldn't see her face.

     Mist gladly went limp into her arms. This was her mistress, her world and her everything- just being alone in the shower without her for five minutes was almost too much. "Y-you were gone, and I..." She sniffled a little bit. "I thought you left... because you aren't happy... because I won't tell you..." She said, talking in circles, and Mizori frowned. "Well pet, all you need to do is tell me what I need to know. I know almost everything. Your name, your birthplace, your family, even your blood type. Where your base of operations is, who your underworld contacts are, who your contacts within the empire are..." She cooed. "All you need to do is tell me what you were working on before I captured you. What kind of weapon could you possibly have to challenge the Dark Council?" 

     But Mist only shook her head. She wouldn't tell. "I can't tell you, mistress." She said, and that made Mizori angry. She threw Mist to the ground and stood up, kicking her in the side roughly. "Why NOT!?" She yelled at her. "It's the only thing left, and you won't give it up! Hypnosis, SLV, control commands, you won't tell me the last thing that I need to know!" She started to pace around and fume, and the deep blue twi'lek just laid miserable and weak on the floor. "What have you done to yourself? How, how is it that you are able to resist! Oh, but I don't even care right now," She cursed her, dragging her up and onto her knees. She took something off the nearby desk- a leash and collar- and fit it around Mist's neck, dragging her like an animal. "Crawl!" She yelled at her. And she did.

     She had the poor woman crawl over to a vent. Then she took restraints, and hooked them into the force-suppressing bracelets that Mist always wore- and then she attached them to the grate, in a position so that she had to stay on her knees with her legs spread. "I've gotten myself aroused," She said with a smirk down at the other alien just like her. She pulled the knot out of her towel and let it drape on the floor, revealing her fully nude in the other twi'lek's presence. She stepped over to her, spread her legs just enough and yanked hard on the leash, forcing Mist's face between her thighs. "Do something about it," She ordered her. But the order wasn't really necessary- the vapid, already mostly broken twi'lek happily began to lick and suckle, running her luscious lips all over the paler blue alien's hairless nethers. "Mmm..." She said with a sigh as she started to grind herself against the girl's face. "So obedient. You use your mouth well. You must have been such a -whore- before I captured you. But now you aren't a whore anymore-"

     Mizori pulled her away just a second, forcing her to look up at her, into her eyes, and she reached down, and gently placed her fingers on Mist's neck, stroking upwards, and she told her, "You're a ~toilet~." Mist stiffened up and her eyes widened- it was a mental command. Her lap and her bottom started to feel warm. She looked down and she could see her bright pink pants turning dark and sticking to her legs as her urine gushed into her pants, a noisy ~Hssssshhh~ without any hesitation. She smiled at the sight of it. "I'm wetting myself again Mistress," She said as her golden puddle formed around her ankles and soaked her bottom in this forced kneel she was in. She moaned. "Ahh... it's so warm, Mistress. It feels so good."

     "Of course you are," Mizori said back to her with an amused sneer. "That's all you ever do. You're a toilet, just like I said. Head back, girl. I'm going to use you." Mist obediently raised her chin and put her head back, and closed her eyes. Mizori spread her labia apart with two fingers, and her own head rolled back as she gave a sigh of relief, and began to urinate on the other alien's chest, soaking her bra and her nightie through, occasionally getting her spray up on the woman's mouth. It dripped down her silky, skanky top, making it stick to her belly, dripping and soaking into the woman's already wet crotch, dripping off her butt and adding to the pool around feet. 

     Mizori smirked as she saw how happily her slave took it. "There. All done," She said. She picked her towel back up and wiped herself with it, and then draped it over Mist's face. "I'm going to go set up our special room now," She said to Mist with a smile. "Today is the day- I can feel it. You will finally tell me what it is I wish to know. And if I come back to find you soiled, I'm going to punish you much harder." 

     And so as Mizori left down the hall, Mist gave a happy smile as the back of her pants started to tent, and fill, and fill... because after all, what other pleasure did she have left in life but pain?

Edited by Attica (see edit history)
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  • 4 weeks later...

Wonderful stories! Well done, Attica!

It's a perfect idea to use characters from computer games and good movies in  stories about wetting fetish and omorashi !!!!!!

Because we are all curious about the scene in which these characters  pee and wet their pants.

I believe most of us have once imagined our favorite character (especially female character) peeing in pants.

So I like your stories and I hope you won't give up. Keep writing, Attica. I am your  faithful reader!

 

 

 

 

 

Edited by aaaaaaaaaaa (see edit history)
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  • 2 years later...

I'm quite sorry to necromantically resurrect a clearly very dead thread. 

I haven't written or posted anything here in, oh, it feels like a whole two years, maybe more. Things have been very- well, my personal life is none of anybody's business. 

But the long and short of it is that I have felt no impulse to do any writing, especially of this sort- what creative juices I had were being spent roleplaying in various games, on discord, and other websites. 

But just for tonight, I have been thinking about something all day... and I think I must write it here. I am going to get to work on it right away. 

Now, for anyone who is new to this thread, I hope you perhaps enjoy reading some of my older submissions- please forgive any kind of syntax or logic errors, as I typically do not proof read these, and often write them drunk. 

I should have the new work done well before the end of tonight. It will unfortunately not be a continuation of either of my stories in here thus far- though, I should really wrap up The Subjugation of Arcadia Banes, that one has a real thriller of an ending. 

But tonight, I'm going to write the first chapter of a series I hope to have the creative juices to continue, titled, Biography of a Toilet Whore

Please be warned that I will be including some graphic content in this story, and some of you may find it displeasing, upsetting of the humours, as you will. There will also be soiling/scat. 

 

Anyway- Here I go.

Edited by Attica (see edit history)
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Biography of a Toilet Whore

Part I

 

          You want to know about me?
          I'm not sure I understand. Why would you ever want to know about who I am? I am worthless, good for nothing, a degenerate. Nobody needs to know who I am, and I assure you, nobody cares. I am good for only one thing; pleasing you. Isn't that what you want? I can see the tent in your pants. Please, let me satisfy that. Here, unzip, I will get on my knees, and empty my bladder into my pants, I know how much it pleases you when I wet myself while I suck your cock. 
          You insist? Well, I- if it is what you desire, I will not say no. I can not say no. Whatever you desire, whatever pleases you, down to the smallest detail- I must obey. Why? Well, because it is... it is what I am, what I was created for. To obey. Never to think on my own, never to even consider giving orders to someone else, or disobeying an order I am given. A- ah... you see? I am so pathetic, I am losing control already. See, I've wet myself again- yes, that little splotch right across my lap. Well, if you insist I talk to you, as I said, I must obey, but- but let me touch you, let me stroke you off as I do. I cannot resist, you see, I hunger so, for it. 
          When did I start using my clothes as my toilet? Well, you see, I never- I never started using a regular toilet. Yes, I have never sat down and relieved myself in an outhouse or anything. I have wet and soiled my pants every day, since the day I was born. At first, when I was young, you know- it was of necessity. I simply did not know any better. I was never properly potty trained, like most people are. Whether it was out of negligence or cruelty at first, I cannot say- but I can assure you, later in my life, it became out of cruelty. Not much longer out of that, it became out of pleasure. Nothing pleases me more... nothing. No wine to slake my thirst, no decadent dish to satisfy my hunger- no, I, I cannot be satisfied by anything other than wetting myself and messing my pants. Though, the sex- and of course, the abuse that comes naturally with it- that is part of the hunger, the craving, that I will never satisfy. 
          Why wasn't I potty trained? Well, you see, my mother hated me. Perhaps, I am not sure, if she hated me at first. She may have simply disregarded me, as a thing, an annoyance. I never knew my father. He was powerful, or so I hear. A demon master. Yes, he laid with one of his conquests- a succubus. I am half a demon. No- no, don't worry- I have no interest in consuming your soul, I am still half human, after all. My father, yes, he... he was never really there. I saw him once or twice, when I was very little- perhaps still only two or three. I can remember, back that far. I remember almost everything. Demons, you see, their minds are- are more streamlined than a regular human. Perhaps that has to do with the mutations. I cannot tell you much. As I was half human, my succubus of a mother wanted little to do with me. 
          Out of obligation, she saw that I did not die in my youth. Perhaps she truly loved my father- yes, even a succubus is capable of love. Or perhaps the bond was too deep. She and him, they- forged a soul bond. It takes a powerful, powerful warlock indeed to forge a soul bond with something as nymphomaniac and untrustworthy as a succubus. Of course, she did not even attempt retaining fidelity. I mean, she was a succubus, after all. He was gone for such long times, he only came back every now and again- perhaps to check on me, though every time he saw me, I could see growing disappointment in his eyes. At such a young age, however, I could not possibly understand that look- only that it made me feel worthless. 
          That was the beginning of it all, really. That feeling of worthlessness- as I grew, I came to... worship it. It made me feel in a way I cannot describe to an average human. It made me feel... whole. To be worthless, to be scum, to be abused. My mother, she abused me often, yes. I think she resented me- many a consort was chased away once they saw the half-breed monstrosity that I was. The way that she abused me, it started to grow into a sort of addiction. I fed off it- literally, in the same way that a succubus feeds off lust. 
          You don't know how that works? Oh, of course- I forget, not all people are well versed in various aspects of demons. Well, succubi feed, in the same way that you and I would eat or drink water, by absorbing the emotion of lust within an individual. They *must* have sex- they must please their partners. It is the only way for them to stay alive. Of course, there are some lines a succubi won't cross- though there are few. They are of course, overwhelmingly selfish- so anything that puts them in danger or harms them is out of the question. 
          Yes, that does mean exactly that- there are no submissive succubi. They may SEEM submissive, in order to draw out your lust. A succubus innately knows what your deepest, darkest fetish is, and uses it against you. Even I can weakly sense it, though for you, it's easy- you like to see me piss and shit myself. That works out perfectly for us, after all... I love to have accidents. 
          As I was saying, though. Succubi all love BDSM. However, they will do whatever pleases their partner, other than submit to them. All succubi are sadists, you see- there are no masochistic succubi. Except, perhaps I... but that is because I am a degenerate, a mistake. A half breed. 
          My mother eventually turned me into a sort of slave. I did the work around the house- which was, to be frank, pointless. It was only to entertain mother. We lived in the Nether, see- where forms and reality are constantly changing shape, where nothing is solid and set in stone. There was no need for me to clean the house- we could just transform it into a clean home. But mother didn't- she enjoyed seeing me work. It wasn't until I was about, oh, eleven, that she started to realize the pleasure in forcing me to go to the bathroom on myself. It always made her furious, at first- she would whip me, beat me, scream at me- "Succubi do not excrete waste! Succubi do not eat food! We eat men and women's desires- and you will NEVER be like us! You wretched, pissy brat!" 
          That was her favorite line. She started to force me to wear belts with locks, so even if I wanted to, I could not take off my pants- I had no choice but to wet myself. For some reason, though, I never resented this- I accepted it as a part of life, and as I went through puberty, messing my pants, being whipped, burned, and abused- I came to love it. It really does feed me, just like lust feeds a succubus. Though- I still have to eat, and all that. If I didn't eat, how would I soil myself?
          My appearance- what? You want me to describe my appearance aloud? Are you- taking this all down? How can you write like that while I'm pumping your cock? I admire your determination. Are you writing a story about me? Well, that's okay. I do not mind the entire world knowing what I am. The humiliation I would endure, the looks I would get walking down the street- mmnnh, I am frothing between the legs just thinking about it. Very well. 
          I am a human girl, though my skin is a colorful shade pinker than most of us. Tiny little bumps under my forehead are covered by my long, shimmering red hair- yes, I take very good care of my hair, and my body. There is an exquisite pleasure in urinating on a woman who is beautiful, isn't there? I know I am worthless, but I also know I am beautiful. All succubi are, even half breeds. My eyes are a soft purple, the color of lilacs- father, see, he had blue eyes, and demons, they always have red. Considering again what I am, genetically, I am pleasing to the eye and the touch. My breasts are full and plump, complete with petite, pink nipples. Oh, I would say I am a four stone cup- enough to fill your hand, and then some. Yes- oh, yes, just like that. I do enjoy it with you grope me. Please, continue. 
          My backside is much the same way. It fills out my pants, which really highlights the way they look when I soil them. Yes, I always dress in red- it matches my hair, the collar bone length hair, which doesn't quite cover my breasts- I keep them trimmed, so that when I am naked, nothing accidentally covers my tits. I love this color of scarlet- it really shows, the wet, glistening patches, when I wet- and the seat of these pants are forever stained, no matter how much I wash them. 
          Anyway, I- oh. Ohh, I- oh, forgive me. It feels like I am wetting myself again. No, I- unnhh, I do not ever get tired of it, even though I do it every day. I can do it, mmhhh, I can do it in various ways, that- oh, it's so hot- oh, that keep it interesting. Like- oh, light, I am really drenching myself this time- can you hear that? That ppsssshhhh, I love that sound. I am completely, helplessly pissing myself. It feels exquisite... sitting in this wooden chair, I can feel the hot wetness pool around my bottom, hear it drip and splatter all over the floor. Ah, ahhh, I- master, I am- unnnhh, p-peeing... myself. 
          It seems like its over. I think that your cock is going to burst if I don't do something about it. I'm sorry, I know you weren't nearly done, but I- I simply had to wet myself, I can't hold my bladder, after all. Oh, yes please- I would love that. I have had many partners, of course, you know that- but none of them bend me over their laps and spank me just right, like you do. I could cum just from you spanking me. 
          Oh, not yet, you say? Oh, of course- I'll get down on my knees. Please, I beg of you- urinate on my chest, on my mouth. I want it. I need it... I am nothing, but a filthy... wretched... toilet whore.

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Biography of a Toilet Whore

Part II

 

          Oh, that felt incredible. I orgasmed at least three times. You, you are special- even if you do not hit and abuse me in the way I desire, even if you are not excessively cruel- I so enjoy being fucked by you. It's okay, don't worry. I'm a half breed, so I am infertile- you can't get me pregnant. That's okay- I enjoy the feeling of your semen coating my inner thighs, drying on my groin. It'll wash into my panties if just- ahhh, piss myself, like that. No, it's okay, I'm going to keep wearing these pants awhile- if you can stand the smell. 
          What am I saying? Of course you can. You've told me again and again how you enjoy the smell of my pissed pants. No, you don't have to worry about rashes or anything- I can just dispel those away. See, when I was eventually ejected from my household, I joined up with a convent of priestesses. I don't know why, perhaps I thought- maybe I could be cleansed, cured of my disgusting, corrupted desires. It did not work- it only further enhanced them. It was the beginning of something new for me. Despite my constant wettings, I had never actually wet the bed. That was when I came to the convent. I was very quickly given a reputation as a pantswetter. Priestesses, young ones especially- they can be terribly cruel girls. Perhaps it's all that duty and worship, and not getting any cock in them, but they can be truly terrible. 
          Sometime in my second week there, I awoke with my wrists tied to the bedposts. They said that I should just stay in bed, get more rest. Of course, they were teasing me- they were waiting until I got desperate. I still sometimes remember that day. The thought of it makes me moist. I had been trying my best to seem normal. I squirmed, I writhed- pinching my thighs together, I begged them, "Please, please let me go!" I even cried. I remember the looks of cruelty on their faces as they watched me cry. I- unnhh, master, may I pleasure myself while I tell this story? 
          Thank you. Ohh... what was I saying... I remember the utter desperation, the pain in my abdomen. I cried and I cried, and eventually, I lost muscle control. I can still hear the hiss of my pee, gushing into my nightgown. The warmth of it flooding under my bottom. They were -delighted-, because I cried more pathetically than ever. A daring girl pushed her hand between my legs, so that I would pee all over the top sheet too- the wetness obvious to anyone who looked at me. They pointed, jeered, and laughed- and then, someone got a particularly nasty idea. She climbed on top of my bed, spread her nightgown apart, and started to pee right on me, on the top sheet over my abdomen. Then another girl decided to do it, and another- eventually six girls pissed on me, in total, and I was totally soaking, from my knees to my breasts- in my own urine, and in others. 
          The most delightful thing is, after that, they left me there. I missed the morning bell, missed the morning shower- missed breakfast, left alone, in my piss stinking twin bed, all by myself- unable to even touch myself. My nethers were flaming, the entire time. After the first hour, I wet the bed again- after the second, I shit in my nightgown. The erotic pleasure was overwhelming. I came, even without touching myself- I writhed and I bounced, and the mess in my skirts went all over my bottom and the back of my thighs. 
          Five hours later I was discovered by the matron, and without even being able to clean myself up, I was stripped naked, tied to a pole outside- yes, every girl could see me naked, with my own excrement smeared over my backside- and whipped for twenty minutes straight. I came from that, too. 
          The pleasure of my accidents never really hit me until I was about eleven, and still under the care of my mother. That was when she realized the sort of pleasure she got out of torturing me, and forcing me to mess myself. No, don't worry- demons age differently, you see. A real succubus is a fully grown woman by the age of seven. Me, at the age of eleven, that was probably about age nineteen, to a human. My breasts and my hips were nearly fully developed, and mother found a new way to satisfy her hunger- by fucking me. 
          I can honestly say that my own mother was possibly one of the best sexual partners I ever had. Of course she was- she was a succubus. My own twisted desires for abuse and wetting fueled her, fueled her natural, instinctual sadism. I think at that time, that was the closest I ever had to an actual loving relationship with her. She had sex with me once a day, which is honestly showing restraint, for a succubus. You see, they fuck multiple times a day. Day in and day out, for hours at a time, cock, tongue, and pussy was touching mother's nethers in one way or another. Humans, demons, elves, animals even- one time she actually laid with Lord Ba'al Zəbûb himself. The way that monstrosity could come! I was cleaning it off the walls for three days. 
          The greatest session I had with her? Well... I was quite full to bursting, and she must have sensed it- she chained me up against a wall, with my wrists above my head. She tore off my top, my breasts free and exposed to her- and first, she iced them. Traced ice across my nipples, and threatened to kill me if I peed. Then, the candle wax was next- it burned, it burned so much, after the contrast of the ice. I must admit, I wet myself a little from that- from the pain. Yes, even as a half demon, I have wet my pants in fear before. 
          But what came next was utterly magical. Succubi are very in tune to other people's bodies, you see, no matter what species they are- they can affect whatever they like, however they like. She demanded that I hold it, and then, she made it impossible. She weakened my bowel and bladder muscles. I remember it like it was yesterday- panting, sweating like a pig, my face hot and red, my tits stiffer than steel nails. Trembling from head to toe, pinching and squeezing my thighs, rubbing them up and down against each other, clenching my bottom. I kept having to alternate control, from my urethra to my rectum- I couldn't focus on both. My- 'load', for lack of a better word, was pushing out of me, so I went to focus control on holding it- and I completely wet myself. 
          It was incredible. There is nothing as pleasurable as literally having no control- no choice in the matter, wetting yourself completely, utterly, helplessly. It gushed under my asscheeks, forming dozens of hot, glistening rivulets down the back of my thighs- mother shook her head, her black, thin hair swaying, clucking her tongue as she watched me, her tail flitting back and forth, calling me pathetic. I sobbed and begged just a little, and tried to hold my bladder- that was when the bowels went. 
          I could feel the slight resistance of my mess tenting in my panties- everything sort of came to a stop then. I sweated, shuddered- my succubi mother came close, bit my lower lip, kissed me, pinched my nipple- she whispered in my ear, "You will never have control,"- and then it all went. Any sentiment of control I had left, was gone. 

          I gushed urine into my pants like a waterfall, I forcefully soiled myself, oh, the sounds, master- the squelching, the crackling and popping, the tent in my pants bulged and then mushed down into a mound, and I shit, and shit, and shit my pants, I had no idea I could even hold that much. I moaned, no- screamed, with pleasure, as it happened. I was never messier than I was that day. She let me down, and spanked me viciously- spread and mushed my mess all over. It covered me from hip to hip, down the back of my thighs to my knees, up the small of my back, and she stripped me then, and started to jam her tail into me- my face was forced into my own puddle of urine. 
          That was when he came home. For the first time in an entire year, he came home. My father- he saw it all, he saw what horrible, depraved thing my own demonic mother was doing to me. I lost my family, after that- I was set free with nowhere to go. 
          Why? Well... because he killed her, right on the spot.

32 minutes ago, Melificentfan said:

That wad fantastic I'm glad to see you back 

Thank you!

Edited by Attica (see edit history)
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I mistakenly believed that I was a big girl, and was pouty and bratty about it. But in the end, I was proven totally wrong, and my mommy, who insisted I needed diapers, was right- because I completely wet myself before getting to the toilet, even though I had nearly completed the challenge I had been given. As part of my punishment, after an extensive thrashing with a coat hanger, mommy insists I write her a 500 word essay on why I was wrong.

 

A Pissy Toddler Girl's Confession

 

     I am a dirty, wet little girl, and I have wet my pants just as is to be expected from a toddler like myself. I had a task set before me to complete a certain number of game quests, and I nearly made it, but as I finished, as I stood up to walk to the bathroom, I made it three steps, and started to pee in my pants. My thighs quivered, my legs trembled, and I forced my thighs together, but it was not good enough. I lost bladder control, and gushed piss all over my pants. Pathetic little girl that I am, I would have soiled myself too, if I had needed to go. 

     I am a little toddler girl who believes herself to be a grown woman, and I wet and soil my pants. I need diapers. I was too proud, too pouty and naughty to think that I needed diapers, but I proved my mommy right when I wet my pants. My mommy ordered me to clean up my own mess, while still wearing my sopping panties. After my mess was cleaned, I was properly punished. Mommy had me bend over on my hands and knees, and whipped me twenty five times across the bottom with a wire coat hanger- thirteen on one cheek and twelve on the other- one whipping for each year of my supposed age. 

     Despite being 25 years of age, I have the bladder and bowel control of a two year old. I am a shameful embarrassment to myself and anyone who associates with me, and I would be better suited being dressed in diapers, put in a onesie, and left in a crib with a bottle and a bib. As I sit here and write this, I am still wearing my panties, wet and clammy as they are, and they are clinging to me uncomfortably. If I were to get a rash from this, I would sorely deserve it, for I should be wearing puffy white diapers filled with baby powder. 

     As soon as my punishment and my essay are complete, I am going to order myself a package of adult diapers for grown women. I will order whatever pair mommy orders me to, whether they be discreet, puffy and white, or patterned with princesses and unicorns. I am too incontinent to make this decision for myself. I am very lucky to be cared after like this, and be disciplined in the way that I deserve. I am told that if I am to wet myself or poop my panties again without getting the diapers I so clearly need, my thrashing will be twice as bad, and will continue to get worse for every accident that I have. 

     I urinate on average of eight to ten times a day, because my bladder is very small, and I have little self control. If I were forced to hold it, I am sure even a five year old could go longer without peeing than I could. I am so very pathetic, and the only reason I am not sitting here, writing this in a pair of shit-filled panties is because I already went earlier today. 

     I am very sorry for my bratty transgression, and it will never happen again, for I have learned my lesson with my attitude. However, I likely have not learned how to hold it, and fully expect glistening, hot wet pants clinging to my legs again in the future- maybe even so soon as tomorrow.

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