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Chapter I: The Brown Scourge   It had been a whole day, and finally, the moment you were dreading had finally come. You stare at the object, taking it in with an unexplainable, irrational fe

With the wand in hand, you were prepared to cast another spell. You would do it, you would use whatever strength was left within you to manifest the door. It would take all of your strength, both ment

“Of course I did, it’s never dull with you two.” Memories of fishing last night are still fresh in your mind, especially Yuka’s bare backside, soft, small and perfectly round.   “Aw, you’re

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“Fine…” You huff, defeated by a creature that couldn’t even speak. “Enjoy the show.” You avert your gaze from the leering cat and wonder how on earth you let this happen. You couldn’t even blow your nose in the company of another living thing let alone do… this.

 

The cat responds by stretching out on your lap, digging its nails into your pudgy thighs and raising its backside in the air. To celebrate its victory the cat starts kissing your arm, rubbing its head up and down your sleeve. He’s a cute little fella, with his fluffy cheeks brushing and down your arm, gently purring as pushes himself against you.

 

“You’re a friendly little guy, aren’t you.” You reach out to give the cat a gentle pet on his head.

 

As you tickle the cats head with the most delicate touch of your hand, you are suddenly struck by static. A light jolt fizzes through your body like a thousand tiny prickles. You retract your hand quickly, still feeling a buzz of electricity rushing through your fingers. Then, everything starts to go weird. There’s a strange taste on the tip of your tongue that you can’t really describe in either feeling or taste. It was like… static? Lightning? Blue? Blue was the best way to describe it, you’re not sure how, but it definitely tasted blue.

 

“I extend a greeting to you, Apprentice Kenshiko.” A man's voice, aged but noble, booms in your ears, echoing off the walls of the small stall.

 

“Hey!” Believing the man was prying in the stall, you pull up your shorts, covering your knees. “D-Do you…” He’s nowhere to be seen, “m-mind?” It was merely a voice projecting itself through unknown means.

 

“I trust this message has reached you. Hopefully you are not otherwise preoccupied.” That line makes you look down at your bare thighs and shorts draped around your legs and chuckle awkwardly. “It is imperative that you come visit me in my study in the Northwest wing of the fort. If you would be so kind as to follow Nibble, he will gladly lead you to me. I look forward to meeting you in person.”

 

The man goes quiet, the faint buzzing that is fizzing around in your head vanishes and everything, seemingly, returns to normal.

 

Unable to comprehend anything that just happened, you gawk wide-eyed at the cat. It simply sits by your feet once again, purring and staring back at you. It spoke to you. You heard it clear as day. A cat just spoke to you. Did the cat speak? Was this finally the moment you were going crazy?

 

Slowly, with jittering hands, you tap against the privy wall. “Ledly, did you just hear that?”

 

“Hear what?”

 

“You didn’t just hear any of that?”

 

There’s a flick of a page. “Nope, but it must’ve been a good ‘un if you’re asking me about it.” She giggles, her laughter causing her to break wind.

 

Looking back down at the cat, which seems to be named Nibble if the message was to be believed, you notice he hasn’t moved. He’s sat, motionless, watching you squirm on the privy. You’re certain you can see him smiling, taking some strange pleasure in seeing a girl with her knickers dangling around her ankles.

 

“So… your name is Nibble, huh?” You ask the feline, expecting an answer after that bizarre moment.

 

The cat chirps happily, which you can only assume means yes in catspeak.

 

“And your master, whoever he is, wishes to speak with me?” You point at yourself, letting the cat know for sure that you’re Apprentice Kenshiko.

 

The cat chirps and struts over to the door. It glances back at you and rolls its eyes at the door, hinting that it wishes you to follow it. So the cat had given you a message, but right now you were in no position to be following strange, Privy-lurking cats through the Guild. But who are you kidding, you were as clogged up as the rear of a virgin whore. And surely these summons had to be important. Why else would somebody send a messenger… cat? Especially at a time like this.

 

What do you wish to say?

 

> “Alright, let’s go see your master.” (Belt up and follow the cat)

 

> “Can I have a moment to, you know, finish up?” (Finish in the privy before leaving)

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“Alright, let’s go see your master.” You answer the cat. It was time to belt up, pucker up, and get this bizarre business out of the way. You didn’t like going about unrelieved, even now you were feeling the gargantuan weight in your gut shifting with every squirm. Hopefully, the privies would be empty when you came back and you could offload in peace.

 

You reach over to the small box beside the privy and flip open the lid. Inside is a roll of paper. There was no need to do this, but better safe than sorry, especially after that one toot that felt particularly muddy. Tearing off a piece of privy paper, you stand up, bending over and hovering your bare butt over the privy and wipe. Nothing, not even a smidgen of mud. You’re not surprised. The best you’d managed through all this was a fart, and even then it took an unexpected encounter with a strange cat for that to manifest from your butt.

 

You chuck the privy paper between your legs, into the hole. As you stand up, you feel a great discomfort. Something hard pushes against your gut, slithering in your stomach. The cramps make you grimace, but you force yourself to endure it. You bend over to pull up your shorts. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice the cat leering. You look up, huff and make a spinning motion with your finger, gesturing for the cat to look away until your bottoms are up.

 

“Hopefully this won’t take us too long.” You sigh, pulling up your bottoms and buttoning them. The quicker this was done, the quicker you could return for round two.

 

The bolt clicks and you swing open the privy door. Nibble rushes out and quickly jumps up atop one of the porcelain sinks, his emerald eyes gazing down at the silver faucets. “I’m d-done, Ledley.” You tell her, knowing full well you were far from done. “I’ve got somewhere to be.” You shuffle over to the sink, hand over your stomach to comfort the impatient roars of your gut, and start running the water. 

 

“Oh, bollocks.” Ledley curses. She taps against her stall door. “Hey, Shibo, is there any pot roll in your stall? I need to wipe and I’m all out.”

 

What do you wish to say?

 

> “Sure, let me get you some.”

 

> “Sorry, I just used the last of it.”

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“Sorry, I just used the last of it.” You tell her as you stroll back to the sink and begin washing your hands.

 

“Toss…” Ledley hisses. You hear the flicking of papers and an aggressive tear of the books pages. “Better not cut my arse.” You hear her hiss again. “Oh hey, Shibo?” She calls out from the stall, sounding in somewhat higher spirit than she did dabbing paper against her arse. “Since you’re an Apprentice you’re probably looking for something to do, right?”

 

You rub some soap on your hands and let them rest under the warm water. “What do you mean?” You look over your shoulder and ask her as if she’s stood right there.

 

“Well, you’ll be wanting to prove yourself, right?” You hear the tear of more paper.

 

“I… suppose?” You don’t quite grasp what she means, but you’re intrigued. Had you not proven yourself by becoming an Apprentice? 

 

The stall door unclicks and Ledley emerges buckling up her belt. She pats her stomach and grins, relishing a good drop at the privy. It must’ve been a good one for her to be smiling. Her long brown hair covers her eyes and her sleeves are rolled up. The book she was carrying seems to be missing a few pages. She walks over to the sink, puts the book down beside her and washes her hands.

 

“One of the commanders is gathering some of the new blood in the training halls later, you should come along if you have the time.” You both finish washing your hands. Ledley wipes off the water against her trousers. “He’s looking for the few Apprentices who aren’t utterly shite for training. Me and Yuka will be there.” She rams a fist into her hand with a menacing grin. “We’re going to be putting the new blood through their paces.”

 

Ledley walks you out. It takes all your mental and physical strength to conceal that you were still burdened by your bowels. You move stiffly, almost dragging your feet while all your willpower is keeping your butthole puckered. 

 

“Well that was fun. Reminds me of the army, shitting with somebody else beside me.” She pats your shoulder, much to your embarrassment. You’d like to be thought of as more than a shitting partner. You weren’t even a good one. “Remember, training halls.” She repeats herself as she disappears into the common room.

 

Here you are, alone once more. But you’re quickly reminded that you were not really alone as you feel a light furry face brushing up against your face. The cat walks in front of you and sits down. It’s grinning. “This better not take long…” You groan, holding off a fearful push from your load. It tightens your stomach and quickly lets go. “Lead the way.” You trudge along, ignoring the searing cramps twisting your gut furiously. Just a little while, you could hold it.

 

Nibble rushes ahead of you, though he never strays too far off. He leads you through the common room, past a group of Guildhands who are boasting of their previous venture and out in the corridors. They pay you no mind, which was great, since you must’ve looked two steps from falling down in a heap; hunched over with your hand pressing into your stomach. You walk along the halls to the Northeast wing, hobbling with a hand on your stomach and a grimace contorting your face. Every step hurt, every small force against your body subjected you to the horrible feeling of the load in your belly. Every step was a curse for all that gorging you’d done last night.

 

The worst comes just a minute later; your stomach starts to gurgle and the cramps begin to intensify. “Uuu…” You whimper, straightening yourself up and forcing all your strength into holding back the storm. All it takes is one misplaced step. Prrbbt. You stop dead in your tracks, eyes wide with horror. The noise slips through, rumbling your cheeks and breaking in the air with an immodest squeak. As relieving as it felt, it was nothing compared to the shame. You groan, ignore what the fart you had just done and keep going, following Nibble.

 

It’s hard, the urges get worse, every step is another call to break wind. It’s like a vent overflowing with steam. Your body was doing all it could to relieve the growing pressure in your gut. Your stomach gurgles and your anus starts twitching. You bite down on your lip as hard as you can, hiding the cramps behind the feeling of your teeth pushing down against your lip. It doesn’t work. You start swaying your butt side-to-side, resembling a potty dance in the hopes of working off the urge.

 

Finally… it’s too much. With a whimper, you grind to a halt when you’re finally alone in a corridor. You sit down on the windowsill, wriggling to push your butt firmly against the stone. It tickles. 

 

Nibble hops up onto the window you’re leaning against and rubs his face against you. You look down at him and he looks ahead, urging you to keep going.

 

“Just give me a second. To catch my breath.” You lie.

 

The cat hisses, clearly displeased with your answer.

 

“You get to have a moment to compose yourself if I ever disturb you while you’re in your litter tray.” You pout. “Just a second, is all.” I really need to fart… I feel like I’m going to explode. You squirm, and squirm, and squirm, wiggling your butt and whimpering like a helpless child. You really wanted to do it; just lean forward, give yourself a firm push and vent the steam so to speak. 

 

A few apprentices walk past the corridor and that’s when you knew you couldn’t just do it here. Imagine if somebody walked past, or even worse, managed to smell the cursed air you would produce. It’s then you do notice a small chamber across from you; a little stone room with a few paintings and a staircase. Suddenly, you feel a beaming smile growing. Surely, there’d be no crime if you were to trot off in there, maybe look at a few pictures and if you were to accidentally break wind? Well… a girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.

 

What do you wish to do?

 

>Go into the alcove and break wind

 

>Hold it, pucker up, and keep going

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As another wave rushes over you, sending a shiver through your entire body, you decide now would be as good a time as any to go take a quick gander in the alcove. You can feel the blood rushing to your cheeks. Now, would be a fair time to “examine” the paintings and you’d rather not put much thought into what happens after. Anything you might do as you’re admiring the artwork is merely an accident.

 

Standing up from the windowsill, you let loose a small burp from your backside. “Eep~” You squeak, throwing your hands behind your back like you were covering up your butt. “N-Nibble.” You address the cat, believing deep down it could understand. “I’m just… going to step away for a moment. Please stay here.”

 

The cat chirps and then tilts its head. It looks like it’s thinking for a moment and then protests your decision with a fierce hiss.

 

“What?” You hiss back. “I’ll be a moment. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.” With those somewhat cursed words uttered, you slowly walk along and vanish into the alcove. “I can’t believe I’m reduced to doing this…”

 

The alcove is small and made of stone, on the four walls are four pictures of men you don’t know. You can only assume they are men famous within the guild. In their pictures they are dressed in the finest garments, giving you the feeling that they were of a high rank. You look up at them, admiring them and feel a pang of guilt for what was swirling near your butt.

 

As you admire one of the pictures, you turn to your side, facing your butt to the corner and with a small push of force, you let break wind. The valve has been turned and all that pressure you were holding was finally going to be unleashed. Brrppt! A loud, high-pitched croak erupts from your butt, rumbling your cheeks as it escapes. You feel the twitches of your anus as it passes; the ripples could be felt tickling your hole as you let loose the vile sounding symphony of your butt.

 

It’s a corker, loud enough to pierce the very heavens. The relief is overwhelming; the pressure in your stomach abates with every second of blissful release. The pleasure causes you to stand up straight, reaching up on the tip of your toes and the sensation rushes through your body. You grin and lean forward, raising your butt into the air. “Ahh~” You sigh and press your hands together, lips quivering.

 

Five seconds. Five whole seconds your backside spent conducting a rather… ripe symphony. You top off your toot with a squeak and suddenly you feel much better. It’s like a great weight has been lifted from your gut and with that thought you immediately pat the back of your shorts to make sure no mud had been slung into your knickers. It was a dry one, though it had felt wet.

 

“M-Much b-better.” You sigh, cheeks burning. Sweet, smelly relief. Thank the heavens nobody was here to hear. Then, you look up at the four paintings of the men and guilt plagues you. “I’m s-sorry.” You apologize, feeling it necessary to excuse your behaviour. You would very much like to avoid being haunted because you farted in the presence of a painting. It sounded silly but better safe than sorry.

 

The air is… not pleasant. There was no need to think too hard about what smell tainted the air around you. You sweep your blouse, brush your hair and acting like nothing happened, you prepare to step back out into the alcove. 

 

You’re met with a surprise… Nibble sitting on the stairs, looking at you with a smirk. “H-Hey, I said to w-wait in the hall.” You yell, waving a finger angrily. “A girl needed some alone time!”

 

His response is to sniff the air, and, much to your dismay, gag upon catching a whiff of what was lingering. Upon being cursed by the stench of your butt, he scampers back into the corridor, back toward fresh air.

 

“Stupid cat.” You curse. Feeling much better, you pat your belly, relishing the somewhat faint relief you had been given from that expelling and decide to continue on. “Why did I even decide to do this?” You monologue, trying to piece together just how you’d managed to let a cat get you up off the privy. “I feel like I’m going to shit myself…”

 

The cat can’t answer. He kisses your leg and trots off down the corridor, stopping in the doorway to make sure you’re still following. You are, though now you were pouting about it.

 

Your long journey through the Fort finally ends when you arrive in an old antechamber occupied by a lonesome iron door. It’s eerie. It’s as if nobody has been here for a while; The walls are dusty, the rafters harbor cobwebs and undesirable bugs that watch you from the safety of the shadows, the scones are rusted and hanging from their hinges, some filled with old wax and ash. This was where the cat was to lead you?

 

The cat kisses your leg and trots up to the iron door, where it hops up and starts scratching at it. You realize that’s your cue to open it and do exactly that. The door opens with a creak and reveals to you a large stone room.

 

Nibble rushes in and you follow him. The old iron door slams shut. You find yourself in a study, a spacious study that almost resembles a classroom. Being here reminds you of the old studies back when you were at the Academy. The air is heavy with dust, the shutters are bolted over the windows, letting only the faintest sunlight in, and you can smell the old mouldy books gathering on the bookshelf.

 

Ahead of you, standing over a table, is a tall man with long silver hair. He’s dressed in a long flowing black coat with wraps covering his arms. By his side is a small ornate wand crafted from dark wood. He doesn’t seem to care for yours and Nibbles entrance, he’s too busy reading.

 

You take a few steps forward, past a few old benches. Nibbles rushes on ahead, and suddenly he vanishes into a plume of black smoke. The smoke rises and fills the room. What is left behind is not a cat, but rather a small, naked girl roughly the size of your hand and with a small black pointed tail. An Imp. She’s an Imp, hovering over the ground, her black hair flutters from the flapping of her wings. “I did your bidding, Master.” The little imp says to the elderly gentleman. She flies over and lands upon his shoulder. Like a shy child, she tugs at his collar. “Can I have my reward now?”

 

Watching the small imp fly over to her master, you feel something inside you break. You stand frozen, your jaw agape as a feeling you can only describe as shame begins to fill you. She w-wasn’t a cat… i-it was an imp? S-She saw… on the privy… and heard that… in the Alcove.

 

“Did you keep a low profile, like I told you?” An aged voice asks.

 

“Yep! I went as Nibble, just like you told me too!” She looks back at you with a smug smirk and giggles. “I was going to be a rat and shoot up the privy hole.” Her giggles become laughter and she flutters over to her master once more. “Reward please, Master!”

 

With a disgruntled ramble, the old man hunched over the study reaches for a small sack. He sticks his hand inside and pulls out a purple plum which he happily gives to the imp.

 

“Yay! Plums! Plums! Plums! Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!” She squeals in delight, latches onto the plum given to her by her master and sits down on the table. She begins happily chomping on the purple fruit, her small devilish tail sweeping from side to side in glee.

 

The man turns and faces you, sizing you up with dark squinting eyes. “Forgive her - she’s a Kniv, highly mischievous in nature.” He furrows his brow and concern arises on his face. “A-Are you okay? You’re looking a touch snowy?”

 

Realizing the twist that you had been following an Imp, a sentient creature that completely understand every shameful thing you had been doing, you slap yourself out of the shock. “Haa… there’s no need to worry about me! I’m fine.” I’m about to shit myself… but I’m fine.  “And no need to worry about Nidley.” You laugh awkwardly. “I figured that out the moment I met her.” You mutter under your breath.

 

“At least I don’t have a stinky butt.” Nidley hears you perfectly, looking up from her plums and pouting like a child. She taunts you, slapping her backside and wiggling it in a poor attempt to mock you. “Stinky butt, stinky butt, stinky butt!”

 

“Nidley! Hush!” The old man raises his finger to the little Kniv hovering by his shoulder. “You’re ruining my concentration.”

 

“Sorry, master.” The Kniv bows and returns to her meal of plum. “She does have a stinky butt though!” She giggles. “You should’ve smelled the one she let rip on the way here! It smelled like battered pudding!”

 

You clench your fist and right now you’ve never felt a stronger urge to twat a small creature square in the face.

 

“A pleasure to meet you face to face, Ms. Kenshiko.” He grins, though it is not the warmest grin. “I am Syndir Draxus, a Scholar here at Fort Victoria. Lucina, the vice-Guildmaster was kind enough to send your name to me.” He takes a few steps forward, proud, composed and without struggle despite his aged figure.  “I trust Nidley did not find you at an inopportune time?”

 

“Well, actually…” The Kniv glances over her shoulder and snickers menacingly before turning to her master and sitting on his shoulder. She leans forward and starts whispering into his ear.

 

After a few silent words are spoken between them, Draxus sighs heavily. He lowers his shoulders, slams the book closed and whispers back to Nidley.

 

“Hey!” The Kniv hops from his shoulder, glaring as if she is greatly offended by something Draxus had said. “You told me to find Shibo Kenshiko as soon as possible! It’s not my fault if I found her emptying her stinky butt in the privy.”

 

“Nidley!” Draxus strikes her with a flick of his finger, swatting her away like a fly. “You will show some manners when we have a visitor.” He shakes his head in disgust. “Now, back to what I was saying: I was informed that you are a learner of Manifest magic, is this correct?”

 

“It is.” You nod. “I haven’t practiced in quite some time, I must admit.” Acting composed is difficult when you’re trying your hardest to keep in a log. You’re impressed you’re holding on this long, though under this composed charade was a girl struggling to hold back her mess. You could feel your strength waning, and with that, your anus quivering, giving way for a brief moment to the scourge in your bowels.

 

“That is not a problem for me.” Draxus waves his hand in the air. “The few Apprentices I have taught in the way of Manifest magic were all novices once. Why, one of my Apprentices is now a royal Guildhand.” He smiles, his eyes looking up as if he is reminiscing. “Anyhow, our Guildmaster has wished for me to extend an offer to undertake your apprenticeship with me, learning the very magic you wish to master. Does that interest you, Ms. Kenshiko?”

 

It certainly did, though you were a little suspicious. Why the man could not simply leave you a letter and instead decided for this elaborate little courier and vague messages was beyond your understanding. Perhaps he simply had a flair for the dramatic? “I… Yes.” You’re unsure how to reply. “You can teach me how to properly use Manifest magic?”

 

“Not just teach you it, I can teach you how to master it. How to harness the arcane!” He clenches his fist with purpose. “When I am done teaching you what I know, you will be able to create anything, the very world we inhabit shall become a canvas!” He booms, growing into his words.

 

“Then, yes. Certainly.” You nod, a faint smile gleaming on your lips.

 

"Excellent." Draxus puts his hands together with joy. "However, before we begin, I require a trial. A formality, to allow me to gain some insight into your knowledge of magic."

 

"Trial?"

 

"Yes, I will require you to create a simple illusion."

 

Hearing that, Nidley shoots up from her meal. “M-Master, can I speak with you for a moment, please?” The Kniv leaps up onto his shoulder and pulls at his collar.

 

As they vanish back toward the study to chat, you are left to stand and take in the old study you found yourself in. Your stomach was still hurting, but thankfully you felt like you still had some control for now. That fart had definitely vented the pipes so to speak, but it didn’t fix your problem. It merely delayed it. Even now, you could still feel a hard head trying its best to poke between your cheeks. Every attempt was met with your resistance; you’d clench your fists and pucker up until it retreated, protesting with a vile cramp. It was working, but you were beginning to feel weak. I hope this doesn’t take too long. I really need to get back to the privy.

 

The old magus returns from whispering with Nidley. You notice in his hands he's carrying a small bottle of something. “Here drink this - it’s a numbing agent. Highly strong. I believe they use this on Bortski boars to subdue them.” Draxus slaps the bottle of tonic in your hands.

 

The liquid inside is as black as tar, and twice as thick. You shake the bottle, watching the contents stick to the glass. You look up at the old Scholar, brow furrowed. “You expect me to drink such a mixture?”

 

He looks over his shoulder, glaring. “You wish to learn the magic of manifesting, correct? First I must see what you are capable of. A single twitch, an urge to sneeze, even the smallest urge to urinate, they are all too distracting, they cause hassle for every novice summoner.” He pauses for breath and looks down at his book. “I must see what you are capable of without even the most minor of urges on your mind.”

 

As you are staring down, Nidley, in a cloud of black smoke, appears on the bottle, sitting down with her legs crossed. With plum juice running down her chin she looks up at you, picks a piece of plum from her fangs and stares into your eyes. “I’d consider drinking it~” She says with a teasing tone. “You humans are feeble spellcasters, especially when you have full tummies.” She wraps her arms around her stomach and does a mocking potty dance in your face. “If you overexert yourself doing Master’s trial, you might end up with a pie in your pants.” She giggles. “How embarrassing would that be, huh?”

 

Staring down at the black tar like tonic, you can’t help but feel the annoying little Kniv had a point. If you were to perform a simple test of magic, you’d need a clear mind and right now your mind was anything but clear. All you could think of was dumping this weight in your gut. However, there was no telling what this stuff would do, the side-effects could be horrible, you could even void your bowels right here and now… 

 

What do you wish to do?

 

>Chug the potion (Shibo will be unable to feel anything for a short time)

 

>Decline the potion and perform the trial

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As you watch the inky concoction slither down the glass bottle, you decide that perhaps it’s best you don’t drink it. “I’ll be fine without.” You tell Nidley. The tonic had the consistency of tar and the aroma of rotten arse. “I shan’t have no trouble casting a simple illusion.” There was no telling what kind of havoc such a foul formula would play on your bowels. A simple sip may be enough to tip the odds in favour of the scourge in your gut.

 

Nidley looks down at the tonic you’ve rejected. “Ooh, you’re a brave one.” The Kniv smirks. She flies past you and suddenly you feel two small hand dangerously close to your butt. “Nope! No mud yet!” She calls up. It feels like she’s padding your butt cheeks and in protest you leap forward. “But your butt really stinks!”

 

“Get off me!” You try to fan her away like the annoying little fart she is.

 

She flies in front of you and hops down on the table. “You’re either really brave or really dumb!” Her tail flicks out from behind her and wraps itself around the bottle of tonic. “Sure you don’t want just a taste?” She proposes, rubbing the bottle.

 

You hate to admit it to yourself, but being free from such torment - the constant pressure pushing against your rectum, the quivering of your butthole, to take a swig of a potion and have those horrid pains disappear if only for a short while made your lips curl with pleasure. “N-No!” You shake the thoughts from your head, cross your arms and stand by your decision not to gulp down an arse-smelling tonic that looks like what you imagined you’d be leaving in the privy once all this was over.

 

“Okay~” Nidley shrugs her shoulders. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you if something happens~” She prods your belly with her tail. “How are you feeling? Ooh! Tell me on a scale of one to ten!”

 

Nine, it was easily a nine. Even as Nidley taunts you now, the brown snake attempts another assault on your anus, pushing against your hole. “That’s none of your business!” You huff. “I’m fine!” You try to hide your discomfort as you pucker up and push back the peaking turtles head. Another inch and it would be kissing the cloth of your knickers.

 

Draxus looks up from his study and immediately his attention is on the bottle of tonic sitting on his desk. “Hmm, you do not require the potion?” He coughs. “Nidley had suggested it given the nature of this, ahem, situation.”

 

“There’s no need to worry, Master!” Nidley flies over to his shoulder and props herself down by the collar of his coat. “Shibo’s assured me she’ll be fine!” She peers over and winks at you.

 

You scoff. “There is no need to worry, Scholar Draxus.” You address him and ignore Nidley completely. “I can assure you…” A cramp hinders your speech; it’s like being kicked in the gut by an unseen force. “...that there will be no issues.” The urge t o fart and relieve some pressure was growing again too. What you wouldn’t give right now to find a nice quiet corner and let rip. The thought is enough to send a blissful shudder down your spine.

 

“Very well.” The Scholar takes the potion and slips it back into his pocket. He looks somewhat disappointed as he reaches into another pocket and produces a simple wooden wand. He hands the wand to you and takes a seat on a stool beside his study. Nidley flies over and sits on his shoulder, crosses her legs and prepares to watch with her Master as the Apprentice before them gives a demonstration of her magical abilities.

 

All eyes are on you right now; Draxus glares, watching intently as you stand still and look at the catalyst you’ve been handed. Thankfully, the stage fright that was now engulfing you had halted any urges to shit that you were feeling. It was as if your body realized that now, this very moment, one where you held a wand in your hands, was not the moment you would be filling your knickers.

 

“Whenever your ready!” Nidley calls out, trying to spur you on. Whether she was being encouraging or a nuisance was left to your own judgement.

 

With a sigh, you raise the wand to your face, holding it upwards, and take up the stance you had been taught. You turn your body sideways, keeping your feet planted and turn your head. Now, you needed something to focus on. Something simple. You look around, scanning for something to stare at. You find something - a small iron ball resting atop a small pedestal. That would do. You just needed to focus all your attention into that. Taking a deep breath, you slowly raise your arm and extend it outward. Your focus does not shift from the iron ball.

 

Still not a sound. From anybody. The air was still and it was so quiet you could hear the wind. The tension was unnerving, being watched, examined closely, every single movement you made being graded and assessed by Scholar Draxus. Even worse, as you extend the wand forward, you are reminded of more pressing matters in the worst manner. A loud gluttonous groan emanates from your stomach, like the low moan of a terrifying creature. “Don’t think about it.” You whisper. A horrid spasm curses your backside and once again the snake presses against your hole, the shock causes you to grip the wand tightly and bite your lip.

 

“Something the matter, Shibo?” Nidley asks you in a smug manner. She was enjoying this, every second of it.

 

“Nidley!” Draxus hushes her.

 

You struggled with the casting. As you hold the wand up, keeping your attention on the iron ball, you feel your skin beginning to prickle. A flood of energy swirls through your arms and gathers at the tips of your finger, emitting a low green glow. You can feel the energy pulsating in your hands. It’s been a while since you’ve felt this sensation. Now came the difficult part; you needed to shape and form that into something using your mind. A mental image that you would bring to life with the energy you had channeled. Draxus wanted you to manifest your utmost desire, and you try to do that. Privy! Toilet! Commode! Lavatory! Somewhere I can end this! Your thoughts are a flood of desperation seeking relief from the brown scourge.

 

The thoughts are so pleasant, so blissful, so desirable that it was impossible to focus your mind on anything else. As the cramps intensify and the gross feeling of something moist slithering closer to your rectum, all you can envision is you, seated on a nice wooden privy, and letting the air crackle as you expel, letting everything descend from your bowels. It makes your lips quiver, it makes you grasp the wand tighter and grin. Oh, the thought of sweet of relief is enough to make you consider just doing it here, just soiling yourself to feel the sheer bliss that would come with emptying your bowels.

 

Right now, given the current situation, your one desire was off the menu. Maybe I should’ve just downed that potion. You regret it now, had you known it would be like this you would’ve done it. A nice garden, some rose bushes, I’ll just envision those. You imagine verdant green bushes sitting beneath a blue sky. Small, ruby red roses are growing from them, blooming in the sunlight. It’s working! Those rose bushes in your head looked perfect, unsuspecting. They were the perfect… No! No! No! You’re not thinking like that! You’re not letting it happen!

 

It’s impossible. Just thinking of those rose bushes sends your mind into a depraved state of indecency that would make the devil blush. You can only envision yourself behind those bushes, squatting down, shorts around your ankles and fertilizing the grass with a big, dumb grin on your face. Gah! No! No! No! Stop it! You yell in your head, trying, and struggling to erase the image from your mind. 

 

Holding the magical energy was beginning to take its toll. You were taking too long. Your whole body begins to feel weak, there’s a ringing in your ears, and you feel your legs wobble. But it got worse, all this energy took a toll on your ability to hold. You could feel your muscles waning, losing strength, and with that you feel something descend. Again, something pudgy and moist rears its muddy head, the feeling as your anus widens to allow it to peak out haunts you as your eyes widen with horror. It doesn’t stop coming… the snake keeps coming, slithering out from between your cheeks. Your powerless to stop it. It’s hot, sliding past your cheeks and growing in length.

 

I. Can’t. Hold. It. You had to cast the spell. At this point, as your mess slowly emerges from your rear, you settle on manifesting the rose bushes. It had to be done. For the sake of protecting your knickers it had to be done. Roses, leaves, bush. You quickly piece those components together mentally and release the magical energy. It’s done! The spell is cast and the illusion is formed.

 

Strength returns quickly to your body, but the shock causes you to fall to your knees. Gritting your teeth, and clenching your fists tightly, you tense up and with all your strength, literally every ounce you could muster, you pucker up as hard as you could, clenching so fiercely that your ring could cut iron. You push the snake back, forcing it to retreat for a final time. Your stomach groans, and the agony almost overwhelms you… but you succeed. You were a mere moment from messing yourself, but you were able to recover. 

 

It was difficult… very difficult. That must’ve been the closest you came to soiling yourself since you had the squirts from a bad jug of milk. Concentrating all that magical energy left you feeling weak. Your strength was almost spent after such a long struggle that felt like it had dragged on for eternity. How you were even able to hold on was a miracle. During that trial you could the snake descending as you had no strength to clench your quivering muscles and your mess was left uncontested, free to wiggle and squirm until it uncoiled into your shorts.

 

Even now, you could feel a very small wet patch on the back of your knickers, and you fear this may not have been a clean victory.

 

You stand back up, still feeling some weakness in your trembling legs. With a proud sigh, completely eluding from how close you came to browning your knickers, you sweep back your hair with your wand-casting hand and smile. “So how did I do?” You look to your Scholar.

 

Draxus is completely silent, clearly he is stunned in amazement.

 

“Gahahahahahahaha!” The Kniv erupts into laughter, her cackles echoing through the study. “Ahahahahaha!”

 

Fuming, you turn and point the wand threateningly at Nidley. “What’s so funny?” You yell, waving the wand at her nose.

 

“He asked you to create the object you desire most!” She rolls onto her back, clutching her sides and sways left and right in a spasm of laughter.

 

“And that’s exactly…” You turn to look at the manifestation of your innermost desires, made up of a web of thin green lines of magical energy. “What… I… Did.” A curved bowl, complete with a box and chain hanging behind it stands before you. Your cheeks feel warm and suddenly so does your whole face as the blood rushes to it. 

 

You pray this is all a horrible nightmare. A toilet. You’d manifested a toilet.

 

Draxus has yet to speak, which makes you worry. He sits motionless in his seat, adjusting his spectacles as if he cannot believe the manifestation in front of him. “It is… certainly a stable illusion.

 

And a mere moment after he gives you the vaguest of compliments, the illusion shatters under its own power like a million fragments of glass. You watch in dismay as the last embers of magical energy flicker and fade, leaving nothing behind.

 

The only thing you can do after such a display of failure is stand completely still and try to keep your dignity. But even that was impossible; Instead of standing proud with your back straight and a forward stare, you’re controlled by the whims of your bowels and they demand you stand with your legs pressed together. Your attempts to keep a composed face are destroyed as you can only twist and wince with the labours of puckering up. It was useless. You weren’t a calm, composed mage. You were a girl on the verge of shitting herself… and it was showing.

 

Nidley reacts before Draxus can, hovering over to you and resting beside your ear. “Good job, Shibo!” You feel the fluttering of her wings against your back. “And no mess in your pants!” Nidley celebrates your unsoiled knickers with a big, cheerful grin and a thumbs up. “Although…” She flies closer and lands on your shoulder, smirking. “I can smell something~” She boops your nose.

 

You can smell it too, and the reek does not warrant a description. Had you been so focused on spellcasting that you’d let one small fart escape? Or was it worse than you imagined. You’d felt something warm and wet and you begin to fear that perhaps… you had let a smudge escape.

 

“If you will excuse me,” Draxus stands up, rolling up his sleeves, “I think I require a short walk, just to assess a few things.” He adjusts his spectacles. “Nidley, do take care of Ms. Kenshiko in my absence.”

 

“Aye Aye, Master!” The Kniv salutes him.

 

Once Draxus leaves, there’s only one thing left to do; fall back into a seat, sit with your legs pressed together and pray this is done in the next five minutes. Unable to hold it any longer, you let loose the fart you’d been holding it. “Ha~” You sigh, relishing the relief as your tummy settles. Was there even a point to hiding it from Nidley? She knew, and she was going to tease you regardless.

 

“Master has a private privy, you know~” The smug little Kniv informs you. Looking up from the shame of your own two feet, you see Nidley hovering above you, teasing you with a roll of privy paper. “It’s a nice one too, like the ones the royal ladies use!” She smiles.

 

This was a tease, you knew it was. “Why do I need to know that?” You ask her bitterly.

 

“Well~” The Kniv sits on your shoulder, squeaking her squishy butt cheeks against you. “I don’t think Master would object if you were to use it~”

 

“And why should I believe you?”

 

“Because Master sees something in you.” For once, she sounds serious. She jumps up and hovers in front of your face. “But Master won’t see it if you weigh your panties down with poop!” She bats your nose like you’re the idiot. “And if you poop yourself, I have to sit and smell it all day! And I’ve had enough of your stinky butt!” She wafts the air around her mockingly. She snaps her fingers, causing a cloud of dark air to manifest around her. Once it clears a key appears in her hands. “So… anything you’d like to say?” She smirks.

 

Was this the moment you trusted that she was not teasing you?

 

What do you wish to say?

 

> “Would you mind pointing me to his privy?” (Accept)

 

> “Will this take much longer?” (Decline)

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