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The Guild Apprentice: Part 2

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Since I already know Biku's vote (because he's a fucking degenerate) This is currently at 4-2

Is there going to be a dramatic turn around?

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Guest Sayono

>"Will this take much longer?"

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Your gut instinct has you feeling that you are being led on by the Kniv. Nidley hadn’t really done much to show she was trustworthy and you have a sneaking suspicion she’s up to some hijinx by having you trespass in her Master’s private privy. You wouldn’t bite so easily. “How much longer will this take?” You ask, struggling to keep your composure and speaking through gritted teeth. “I’d very much like to be on my way.”

 

The Kniv, seemingly taken back by your cool delivery, tilts her head and raises a brow. “Hmm? That’s a strange way to ask if you can use the privy.” She flies around, giggling. “Why are you fighting this, you stupid human! Ooh, are you worried Master will smell it?” She hovers near your nose, grinning as your cheeks turn red. “Worried Master will realize you have a stinky butt too?” She titters. “ You humans are so silly, being all shy and bashful about something so natural.” Wrapping her arms and tail around her stomach, she dances, wiggling her hips and mimicking a childish potty dance. “Oh, maybe you think I’m being a deceitful little Kniv?” She boops your nose with her tail. It's not as pointy as you'd expected. It's quite soft actually.

 

Many of those answers would be right, if it were not for one simple reason. “I’m not going to welcome myself to a privy I am not welcome to use.” You had stood firm when Ayla suggested it yesterday, you’d stand firm now.

 

Nidley huffs, turns to the side and crosses her arms furiously. “You are welcome to use it, dummy!” She strikes your cheek with her tiny hand. It’s barely even a slap but the sentiment was there. “It’s my privy too! And I, as vice scholar, am allowing you - the dummy human, to use it!” Steam erupts from her ears and her pale skin starts to draw colour. “I don’t want you pooping on my Master’s floor!

 

“You never said it was yours!” You call her out. “And who said you were the Vice Scholar!”

 

“I thought it was implied, Stupid!” She slaps you again, this time using both her hands, not that it hurt anymore. Her hands were quite soft actually. “Why wouldn’t it be mine too! We Kniv’s need to tinkle and do dirty deeds just like humans!” Steam continues to shoot from her ears and she seems to be glowing the hottest of reds, like a devil.

 

The sudden shift from playful little Kniv, happily chomping on plums and wiggling her butt in your face, to angry Vice Scholar - if she really did hold that rank - is a terrifying change that starts to put some belief on the fact that maybe she isn’t just leading you on for giggles. Maybe you were being too cautious, maybe this little scamp of a Kniv did actually want you to succeed, even if it was only for her Master’s happiness.

 

Finally, she sighs and lands on your shoulder. “You’re really fighting me on this, huh?” She’s still holding the key. Her anger seems to have subsided and again there’s an impish little smile on her fat little face. “You know, I’m starting to think you enjoy this~” She giggles, bearing her stubby fangs. “Somebody told me there were some really weird humans, ones who don’t like doing the dirty deed and enjoy the feeling of a full tummy~” She points with her tail, gesturing between her own legs. “He told me it makes them feel funny in their special place. Like a tickle!”

 

“Well, I’m not one of them.” You huff, and puff, and blow Nidley away, sending the little pest flying. “I just wish to get this over with.” You cross your arms, legs and sit perfectly still, waiting for Draxus to return.

 

The Kniv gets up, having been blown into an empty cup on a nearby table. She sweeps a cobweb from her hair and flies back over to you. With a snap of her fingers, she vanishes the key. She looks annoyed, with her hands sternly on her hips and her fat little cheeks puffed out. “You’re stupid!” She blows a raspberry in your face. “Clearly your dumb-dumb human eyes need to see I’m being serious!”

 

She flies behind her Master’s study and over towards the rear wall at the back of the room, where she points toward it with her tail. You don’t see anything; she’s just pointing at a wall. Suddenly, around that small segment of wall, four small stone runes with a blue glowing center begin to appear. Nidley channels some magic into her hands, creating a glowing blue ball of energy that hovers between her palms. Around the wall, the outline of a door begins to manifest. Finally, Nidley pulls her hands apart as if ripping open a sack. A burst of energy erupts from the illusion. Then, in all its glory, is a large cast iron door. 

 

Nidley wraps her tail around the handle and pushes the door open. “Tada!” She leaps up, arms outstretched, letting you take in all of its glory. A private privy.

 

With a narrowed look of disbelief, you see it. She wasn’t leading you on, it wasn’t a cruel prank, it was really there - A toilet. The sleek porcelain bowl almost calls to you, the round seat atop it begs for a poor desperate girl to yank down her trousers and plop her bare butt down upon it. Bliss shivers through you, causing you to smile with a crooked grin. But the sight, no matter how beautiful, was too much for your poor overburdened bowels to bear. You can feel your waste squirming in your bowels, slithering lower. Again, it was descending, shifting closer to your puckered hole. 

 

The sight of the toilet was enough for you to let your guard down. Your strength evaporates like water in the sun, the last inch of it leaving your body, giving way to the large brown snake. You’re stood in the center of the study, knees bent, pigeon-toed and doubled over in pain, grasping your stomach and trying all you could to hold in the descending snake.

 

Slowly, you begin walking toward the privy, toward relief, a large quivering smile growing on your face. Finally, it was almost over.”

 

“Y-You… You’re sure it’s okay for me…”

 

“Yes, Stupid!” She yells, waving her hand in the direction of the toilet. As you take another step, and then another, drawing closer to the privy, closer to relief… Nidley speaks once again in her impishly teasing voice. “However~” There’s that smirk again, like that of a devil.

 

Suddenly, the door explodes in a thousand little pieces, just like your illusion had earlier. You watch in horror as the shards disperse, leaving behind the dull stone wall. It was gone. You were so close… and now it was all gone. If you had any strength left, you’d be fuming. You’d grab Nidley and squeeze her like a ball, but you couldn’t; you lacked the strength to be angry. Right now, all you could do was collapse to your knees, your whole body shaking violently, as you’re forced to watch the last bastion of relief shatter before you eyes.

 

“Using Master’s private privy comes with a price~” She says, slyly wagging her finger. “You’ve noticed the runes around the wall, right?”

 

“Nidley…” You hiss, a single tear running down your cheek. Was it a tear, or was it sweat? You didn’t even know.

 

“It’s all part of the lesson, Stinky Butt.” She claps her hands and hovers down beside you. “Now, the runes on the wall?”

 

With the last ounce of strength, you clench harder than you ever had. Right now, you could cut a cigar with your ring. It hurts, your stomach is cramping but you manage to keep your waste from spilling out. You were desperate to rip off a fart, but you couldn’t, fearing that if you did there would be more than wind.

 

Looking up at the runes, you realize they’re holding runes, created to allow a spell or illusion to be held in place without the need for the caster to channel longer than necessary. “They’re… holding runes…” Even your words were becoming ragged. Every single flap of your tongue was using strength that could be better used fighting the brown scourge in your bowels.

 

“Yep!” She flies over and settles down on your shoulder. You can feel the warmth of her butt as her buttcheeks sink into the fabric of her tunic. “If you want to get in, the door must be summoned and the runes will do the rest!”

 

There was a horrible sinking feeling in your gut, and it wasn’t just the log you were holding. You had a feeling you could predict what Nidley was going to say next. “So, what’s this price?” You ask, the faintest tremour of your tongue causing your stomach to contract.

 

“If you want to use it…” She hovers up in front of you, the largest, most devilish smirk adorning her tiny, fat face. “You need to make up for that terrible display earlier and…” She pauses, giving herself a moment to savour these next words. “Summon the door. Yourself!” She leaps up, arms outstretched in joy.

 

“You… Y-You can’t be serious?” You gawk wide-eyed at the wall, knowing on the other side that there was a toilet.

 

“Ooh, but I am~” Her smile is almost sadistic. “Come on, up on your feet.” She gives you a hand, for what it’s worth given her small stature, back to your feet. “I don’t want you to think I’m being mean, Shibo.” She says with a touch of sympathy. “But you won’t get better if other people help you~” She flies around your hand. “Now take the wand~” She steadies your shaking hand and grabs your fingers, wrapping them around the wand in your hand. “And think! Door. Big. Iron. Toilet. Otherside. Think your mind can focus on that and not your poop filled butt for a few seconds!” Although she is being strict, there’s a strange air of support in her voice. 

 

Here you are, back up on your feet, standing tall with your wand aimed right at the wall. All you had to do was summon the door. A simple test just like before. But a jostle from your lower tummy reminds you it won’t be easy. You’re still locked up tight, doing what you can to keep your knickers pretty and white. Any overexertion, even the faintest twitch of your butt would be more than your overburdened bowels could take. If you broke down this time, there would be no saving yourself from what was peaking between your cheeks.

 

“Come on, Shibo!” Nidley is cheering you on. “I know you can do it!”

 

What do you wish to do?

 

>Attempt to manifest the door

 

>Decline and accept you’re too weak

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Guest Sayono

>Attempt to manifest the door

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1 minute ago, DerivativeWings said:

Someone so small uses the human toilet? 

She may or may not have a miniature toilet more suited to her size located in the private bathroom.

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2 minutes ago, Callum said:

She may or may not have a miniature toilet more suited to her size located in the private bathroom.

DID YOU PAUSE JOJO FOR THIS

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14 hours ago, Callum said:

She may or may not have a miniature toilet more suited to her size located in the private bathroom.

Magical micro micturition.

I wonder if she had to wait for a tiny toilet to be installed or if the wizards just magicked it into existence for her.

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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 mental and physical, and you knew your body wouldn’t handle another burst of magical energy. At least, not with dignity. Many mages would merely fall to their knees, maybe take a breath and have a sip of juice to overcome their magical fatigue. You’d be cleaning your knickers and showering until the stink of shame ceased to exist.

 

If you succeeded, you wouldn’t have long before the waste brewing in your bowels gets acquainted with the cotton of your knickers.

 

You take a deep breath, raise the wand up to the tip of your nose and begin to conjure all the magical energy you can. The surge of energy now rushing through you makes your body feel like it’s wrapped up in rope, constricting you, making it hard to breath as it tightens. These are the kinds of issues you suffer when spellcasting under such stressful circumstances. You can only grit your teeth and push everything from the forefront of your mind. 

 

The urge to empty your bowels, the roaring fart brewing in your tummy, the peeking snake that slithered and squirmed ever closer to your yawning rear hole. It all to be pushed aside, cleansed from your mind as if you were wiping it away… almost like wiping your… No! No! You weren’t going to let it get to you. As you let you, focusing everything into the channeling the energy, your stomach begins to groan, it feels like you’re rupturing from the inside. The slithering curses your insides again. It’s peeking, rearing its muddy head between your cheeks, readying itself to embrace a soggy wet kiss with your knickers.

 

There was a yearning for relief that could be felt through your whole body, twisting your thoughts. Just ignore it! You groan, feeling an instinctive urge to just squat down and accept defeat. With the faintest ounce of power, you tighten up, tensing your backside. Your anus winces, expanding and contracting as you can only clench for brief moments of time. But it’s working! The brown snake is retreating slowly; you can feel it leaving a wet trail between your walls as it slithers away from your puckered rectum. Ignore it! You tighten your grip on the wand, take another deep breath and prepare to cast the illusion.

 

“A door.” You tell yourself, envisioning a tall wooden door. No privies, no bushes, nothing but the tall door. It was a grand old door, as if from the castle of a fable; fashioned from old wood with a small brass ring handle. You could imagine putting your hand on that handle, the cold feeling of metal, the creaking as the hinges opened. As if being spurred on by desperation, your mind is clear. You can see it - a door, simple, wooden, perfect, the answer to all your problems. It appears before you, forming from strings of the magical energy and creating an outline.

 

“A door!” Nidley repeats your words, sounding quite impressed. “Come on, Shibo!” Her desire to keep the floors clean spurs you on.

 

You can see it! You were ready! With a flick of your wand, you release the magical energy - all of it, and allow the illusion to manifest. A flash of green erupts against the wall, the small runes begin glowing a dark blue. The spell was cast. Your whole body feels limp as the energy leaves you. The resulting fatigue causes you to fall on all fours. You feel a burst of warmth from your anus; the exertion had caused you to let loose a quiet, and hopefully dry, fart.

 

With a single, shivering hand you manage to lift yourself up and squat over the floor. Your press your knees together, keeping one hand to the floor to keep balance and look toward the spell you had cast, feeling some pride amidst a sea of fear and desperation.

 

“You did it!” Nidley cheers, spiralling up into the air with her wings spread.

 

“I did it…” You repeat, smiling.

 

The strain of spellcasting had you almost immobilized. You could only squat, gasping with ragged breath, hand wrapped around your stomach and a deep fear that even an errant twitch of your nose would undo this valiant attempt to hold it in.

 

“Come on, privy’s right there!” Nidley flies under your arm and tries what she can to help you back to your feet. 

 

Suddenly, you freeze. Your eyes widen as if you’d seen hell itself. Deep below, you could feel it. Through your shaking muscles, you could a slimy warm length descending. This time you were helpless. You couldn’t do anything. Biting your lip down, you force anything left in you to delay it. “Just… hold… it!” You hiss, spilling the words through gritted teeth. 

 

It was no use, like a ship dropping anchor, it was inevitable.

 

“Shibooo!” Nidley pats your back, “get in there before you go in your pants and all OVER MY FLOOR!”

 

You grab a nearby table and lift yourself up. All that’s left is for you to stagger along the study, doubled over with your hands deep between your legs. Your breathing is ragged, you’re exhausted, but you could muster a few final steps if it meant making your drop in the toilet. No, you would make it to the toilet! Nidley flies alongside you, cheering you on like that would could do anything to overcome a weakened physical state. Though, the sentiment is appreciated. Maybe you’d name it after her.

 

Your rush into the commode, slamming the door shut behind you. It had a lock, but in a moment of tunnel vision that had you only fixed on getting your butt on the toilet, you forgot it existed. The room is quite pleasant, especially compared to the foul box you were using earlier. The air is heavy with the fragrance of fresh flowers, which comes from a little box of petunias behind the commode, and the whole room is made of finely carved stone bricks.

 

“Ha… ha…. Ha…” It was coming, a mere second from a brown kiss with cotton. You have no time to lose. The next few seconds would decide the final resting place of your waste. The feeling as your hole widens to allow the gargantuan snake to pass is a gross one. It’s warm and moist, with the consistency of wet clay pushing itself through the narrow halls of your butt.

 

The belt, it was always your damned belt, and this insufferable tunic that was far too big for you. Frustrated, you pull up your tunic so high you almost expose your breasts and hold it in place with your chin pressed against your chest. You watch yourself wrestle with your leather belt, each finger fumbling to undo the buckle. You barely have time as you rive the buckle apart, almost tearing your shorts apart just to get free. It was done, now the final and easiest part. You just needed to plop your butt down and let nature do what nature does.

 

Your shorts are barely below your buttcheeks before plopping down your bare butt over the bowl. There was no time to get them any lower. You fall back onto the seat, feeling the cold porcelain welcome your bare backside. Your tunic flutters down covering your chest and hanging just above the crack of your butt. Finally, the lovely feeling of a cold toilet seat beneath you. It was heaven, enough to make you sigh as you squirm to get comfortable.

 

Finally it was over. You can let your guard down. You close your eyes and relax, letting the contents of your bowel spill without protest.

 

A soft, quiet crackling sound fills the small space of the commode. Without even a second, everything begins to descend. Your stomach groans, and for a moment you feel it contract, but following the pain comes an intense relief that makes your whole body quiver with glee. Your butt emits a muddied squelch, your hole yawns, and from between your cheeks a large brown log begins to drop. It’s hot and moist, pushing your hole wider open as it slithers out over the waiting waters beneath. “Hmm~” You sigh, instinctively wrapping your arms around yourself in sheer bliss.

 

This long dangling length of mess was the culmination of your greedy night gorging on food, coupled with your stubbornness to hold it in until it was quite literally peeking.

 

The long chunk of waste dangles beneath you. “Hnng…” With a quiet grunt, you tense, tightening your ring and cutting loose a good length of log. It falls into the water with a might splash, and you cringe as you are met with some splashback, like wet lips puckering up against your hole. You sigh, jiggling your butt to air off the water. This is why you hated commodes that used water.

 

Thankfully, the smell of freshly picked petunias masks what you can only imagine is a ghastly aroma from the length you had produced. You relax, sit back on the privy and grunt, letting a wet fart echo in the room.

 

From beyond the commode, you hear the creak of the old wooden door that leads into the study. “Ah, Master! Back from your walk so soon?” Nidley greets Draxus with the happiest of hellos.

 

Hearing the old man's footsteps causes you to sit perfectly still. There was something discomforting about using his privy without his know-how. Even more-so now he was back from his walk. It was too late now, you could only enjoy the ride, and hope he understands your plight.

 

The old scholar mumbles, a chair scrapes across the floor. “Is Shibo still present?”

 

“She’s making butt dumplings.” You hear the Kniv snicker. “I bet she’s making enough for everybody~” She directs that bout of juvenile humour toward you.

 

Heating it being referred to in such a juvenile manner makes you cringe. You squeeze your knees together and grimace, blushing a crimson red in your cheeks. “Couldn’t of just said I was using the facilities…” You sigh.

 

“I trust she passed your trial with ease?” Draxus asks.

 

Now that was a peculiar question. “Hmm?” That’s certainly intrigued you. Had this been a ploy by both of them as a means to test your spellcasting? Only one way to find out. You shuffle forward on the seat, and put your ear to the door.

 

“Oh, hang on, Master~” Suddenly, a faint blue aura grows around the door, and you can’t hear anything beyond it. 

 

“Crafty little…” A silence spell. She’d enchanted the door - your door - with a silence spell. “Hmmph!” You huff, crossing your arms and pretending you were not bothered by just how smart Nidley could be.

 

At least you had a little time to think. You squirm and make yourself comfortable, letting your butt settle into the seat as a smaller rock of waste splashes into the toilet. Had it been Nidley’s idea from the start? Had she created a trial that only the most competent of Spellcasters could accomplish? It was not uncommon to put novice mages under stress to properly test their abilities. It was no different from sword fighting, or any manner of combat: Once you’d shown you were capable of performing under the most extreme of conditions then anything would be a cakewalk.

 

But this… you certainly would’ve liked more grace. Being locked in a room, being stuck in a freezing fjord, you’d have welcomed literally anything over having your own desperation used against you. There was nothing for it now. It’s happened, and you hope you at least showed enough dignity to be worthy of being a Spellcaster’s apprentice. And you especially hope that such trials, if this what had just transpired was some kind of absurd trial, were done. Good heavens, the idea of using a girls most desperate moments as a test. It sounded like something out of an acquired lewd fiction. Not that you would know.

 

The last of your waste passes, a final nugget plops into the water beneath and you finish off the whole ordeal with a muddy fart that empties the last of your bowels. “Haa~” You sigh, rubbing your legs together happily. The feeling of an empty stomach is one you’d missed. You felt like you could think again. If it weren’t for the nature of the room you were using, you’d take a deep breath and enjoy the fresh air. Instead, you’d settle for a moment to savour the relief. You sit quietly, hands resting around your knees, and just enjoy the silence.

 

After a moment of quiet savouring, you open your eyes and start fumbling around for something to wipe with.

 

To your shock, there’s no paper. Not a single sheet. With a pinch of shame, you know you’re going to have to ask Nidley. There were alternatives, but there was no need to explore them. “Nidley…” You squeak, sounding like a shameful child. “There’s, uh… ahem, there’s no paper.”

 

Poof! Suddenly, from a puff of black smoke, the Kniv emerges, sitting at the edge of the sink. “Here you go!” She’s holding a roll of privy paper and happily offers you it.

 

“N-Nidley!?” You yell, the sight of the Kniv sitting there catching you by surprise. This was not what you were expecting, or wanted! You’d expected her to hand you a few sheets under the door, not just appear beside you like you were casually relaxing in a chair. The shock of such an unwelcome invasion causes you to yank up your shorts in a desperate bid to cover your immodesties. You squirm and shuffle, cheeks burning to the lowest depths of hells, covering up all you could from Nidley’s wide gawking eyes.

 

“What?” She giggles. “You needed paper, right?” She crosses her legs and leans forward. Reluctantly, you snatch the paper from her hands, shooting her an unamused glare. Not that it bothers her. Having your pants down really took the power from you. She merely smirks. “Normally, we’d just manifest paper. Nothing cleans you quite like magical energy. Guess you can’t do that yet, huh?” She sticks her tongue out playfully.

 

The Kniv was widely overstaying her welcome. “C-Can I have some privacy?” You hiss, scrunching the paper between your fingers.

 

“But I have to tinkle too!” She hops up to her feet and dances around, hands and tail between her legs as she shuffles from foot to foot. Beside her, a tiny illusion of a glass and a jug of lemonade manifests. The jug slowly fills an already full glass. “I can’t hold it as valiantly as you! I gotta go now!” Her white cheeks grow red as she squirms from side to side, tail bouncing with every movement.

 

What do you wish to say?

 

> “Fine. Make it quick.”

 

> "Get out!"

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