Jump to content
Existing user? Sign In

Sign In



Sign Up

Marvel/MCU Stories


Recommended Posts

An Introduction To My Game

Hello all, I am NothingLeft. As a silent member of the omorashi community for a long while, I felt that I should give something back in my own way. Be the change I want to see, in a manner of speaking. I have over eighty prompts I will work on and post here as they finish. But, if there's a certain character, situation, piece of dialogue or wetting catalyst, please write them in the comments (as well as if you'd like credit for it).

I should preface; These take place in the universe of Earth- 382 022, a branch of the MCU Multiverse. An anomaly, this universe- among others- gave the Avengers a victory over Thanos. But it came with costs- different than the ones in Earth- 199 999. The life of Captain Marvel and Iron Man's right arm- as well as some new characters and character power changes. 

Now, the Avengers are at peace, and with their new team members, the only disturbances they have to deal with is the occasional gang boss. Discoveries are made with their new freedoms.

Before I get to the point, I must say a few things, a small list I have to get off my chest;

  • I will not be writing non-consensual (unless it's role-play, in which case fair game)/pedophillac content.
  • I will not be writing messing or farting content.
  • I will not be writing diaper or pull-up content.
  • I will not be writing for specific ships except my own. Any suggested characters will be applied to my personal headcanons.
  • I will not be writing literal age regression- Little space, hypnosis/mind control, role-play, et cetera are fair game).
  • I will not be writing for the Marvel TV shows (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Jessica Jones, Daredevil, et cetera), films only.
  • I will not be writing male omorashi.
  • There are some characters that have not appeared in the MCU (such as Angel Dust from Deadpool) or some of my own ideas (my own Emma Frost spin

I want to clarify; All of these will be wettings. Not desperation, not 'barely made it' or anything of that sort. With all that said, if any of this appeals to the senses, feel free to come to my side of the fences!

Also, a completed character list. Feel free to request any of these characters, and perhaps let me know if you think there's someone I missed!

  • Pepper Stark/Rescue
  • Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow 
  • Sif/Lady Sif
  • Peggy Carter/Agent Carter
  • Maria Hill/Agent Hill
  • Gamora
  • Nebula
  • Hope Van Dyne/The Wasp
  • Ava Starr/Ghost
  • Wanda Maximoff/The Scarlet Witch
  • Mantis, Brunnhilde/Valkyrie
  • Shuri, Okoye
  • Mary Jane Watson
  • Janet Van Dyne/The Retro-Wasp
  • Jane Foster
  • Betty Ross/Red She-Hulk
  • Laura Kinney/Wolverine X-23
  • Emma Frost/White Queen
  • Hela
  • Christina Catastrophie/Angel Dust
  • Vanessa Carysle/Copycat
Link to comment
  • 3 weeks later...
  • Replies 82
  • Created
  • Last Reply

Top Posters In This Topic

Top Posters In This Topic

Popular Posts

Wanda Maximoff    Wanda's Room It wasn't on purpose, Wanda knew that much. She had been toying around with her magic a bit too carelessly when a hex she had been ricocheting betwee

Mary Jane Watson   Ontario Highway Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Gwen Stacy- Ned’s girlfriend of a few months- and Mary Jane Watson were seated comfortably in Ned’s new van he had purchased

Pepper   Stark Laboratory, November 2024 Tony was typing quickly on a small keyboard laid within a table, running diagnostics on his two most recent suits, the Mark XC and the Mark XCI-

Wanda Maximoff 

 

Wanda's Room

It wasn't on purpose, Wanda knew that much.

She had been toying around with her magic a bit too carelessly when a hex she had been ricocheting between her hands suddenly hit her palm at an odd angle and entered her arm. Just before it had, the dull- almost unnoticeable- pang of having to pee struck her. The barely-felt sensation made her hand falter. Her body had no reaction, as usually her spells had no effect on her unless she intended them to. 

But this one had an effect. 

It took a few seconds of no feeling- in which Wanda generated another orb between her fingers- when suddenly her nonexistent need was increased a thousandfold, bringing her to her current state. 

She was doubled over on her bed, her knees and the balls of her feet pressed against the mattress as her hands squished themselves into her crotch, hoping to stem the intense desperation to go that now wracked through her body. She used her black skirt like a buffer, though it had little effect when a warm splurt escaped with a whimper of denial.

The door to her room was luckily shut, so no one walking by would be giving her weird looks or make fun of her, thankfully. This was the most intense need to go she had ever felt, and the pain pressing against her stomach was getting almost too much to bear. She whimpered and bit her lip in need when- of course- there were three gentle knocks on her metal door. Through her pain, Wanda managed to speak through her teeth, her bladder ready to fail at the most subtle of movements.

"Vizh?" Her voice was far too high for normal, and she sounded unusually angry. Vision phased his head through the door in concern, and upon seeing his girlfriend, quickly allowed himself in and threw a plate on her desk.

"Wanda? What happened?" He had left not three minutes ago to fix a sandwich for her when her stomach growled quite loudly- said sandwich was resting on the white plate on her desk nearby- and now he came back to this? What did he miss? What was even happening?

Wanda could barely formulate a sentence as her body shivered atop her bed, "Magic. I… Can't." Vision nodded hurriedly, using his database of Wanda's actions as well as references from the internet to deduce her current problem. A small search into human female bodily cues brought up a concept that made him a small bit… aroused- which gave Vision another set of mixed feelings.

Wanda was on the brink of wetting herself.

The nearest washroom was on the floor above and across the Tower from the stairs, and Vision quickly outed that as a viable option, as clearly Wanda wouldn't make it and he- while he somewhat wanted to see her wet herself, however embarrassing it was to admit-  he wouldn't ever subject her to that kind of embarrassment in front of her teammates- either the looks and mocks she'd attract making her way there, or failing to make it, or both. That limited her to the room they currently were within, and Vision began working quickly to find the best option for her. There were no usable containers for her to use, as her room was neat and tidy. He spoke quietly as his plan formed, as to not alert any others lurking outside her door of Wanda's issue.

"Wanda, I fear you may need to relieve yourself within this room." He stated quietly. 

Had both of Wanda's hands not been crushed against her crotch in desperation she would have slapped him. She looked at him as if to say, 'You think?' but only managed a pained groan as another roll of pressure settled into her bladder. Vision parted from her side and onto the carpeted floor. Luckily, unlike most of her teammates, Wanda hadn't tried to reinforce her carpet into the walls, leaving it easy to pull up and away from said wall.

An idea settled.

Wanda's bed was positioned in a corner of her room, the door positioned in the opposite. Beside her bed and along the same wall as the door was a corner desk and a dark-coloured dresser. The only other corner of the square room was at the foot of her bed and empty, and as Vision pulled up the segment of carpet he revealed sturdy, flawless concrete. He smiled as he tucked the fold of carpet under the edge of Wanda's bed. He looked up to her like he just solved the answer to the universe.

She looked at him with the best indignant look she could and whispered through her teeth, "I am not. Pissing. In the corner." Her voice was far too shaky to be any kind of menacing, and Wanda herself knew she had no other options. Vision offered his hand to his desperate lover, offering her an easier path down.

"I'm afraid it's the only option available to you, Wanda." The witch sighed despondently and took Vision's hand, willing her bladder to contain itself. She nudged herself to the edge slowly, the movement angering her bladder slightly more with each move. She squeezed Vision's hand harder as she squeezed her meaty thighs together. Vision helped lower her to the floor, but that's when Wanda's hand flew back to her vagina. 

A synthetic breath caught in Vision's throat when a splash of Wanda's transparent, warm urine dripped down her leg. She cried out and dropped to her knees, slowed by her boyfriend until her knees touched the floor. Vision took her hand and she squeezed it, however she still held her urine.

"Vizh… I- agh- I can't do this…" She sounded like she was crying. Her head was down, looking at her shaking knees as Vision stood above her. He knelt beside her and raised her chin to look her in the eyes. She was frequently shivering and the very subtlest hint of a rounded distension was peeking from her stomach. "I can't."

Vision gripped her hand harder and pressed his lips against Wanda's. "It is unhealthy to hold large amounts of urine for long periods of time," He spoke against her lips. He took in another kiss, this one longer and more heated. Slowly, he helped her to her feet. He separated and led her to the corner he had folded over. 

Wanda reengaged another kiss as Vision stole her hand away from her crotch and brought both of her hands in front of her, holding her by the wrists. She writhed in the kiss and tears kept falling as the weight on her bladder grew too heavy, and a heavy spurt of her hot pee squirted out against her underwear.

She squealed in what sounded an odd combination of satisfaction, sadness, surprise, shame and… relief. Wanda clamped her legs shut further in response, breaking her kiss.

"Vizh… I can't! Please..." Her sentence stopped in a whisper when another splash hit her deliciously thick calves. This splash was stronger, hotter, harder and brought the barrier of Wanda's will with it. She gasped suddenly in defeat, guided Vision to the floor and bent into his shoulder as a quiet hsss shot into the room, a clear puddle growing around Wanda as her urine danced off of her nude calves and into the puddle she sat in. Wanda sobbed a breath quietly as her urine rolled down from her clothed vagina, through her clamped thighs, over and down her shivering calves before silently dripping onto the floor, but as the pressure on her bladder decreased she felt… Relief. And, as Vision comfortingly rubbed circles on her back, the shame shrunk away as well, until all that was left was the sound and caressing warmth of her emptying bladder and the shattering love between them.

Wanda gasped in a choked sigh as her bladder slowly emptied. The lack of contents as her urine flowed from between her legs left her insides with a small spike of painful absence. But the absence was so, so relieving. The feeling of streams flowing down her legs and onto the concrete beneath her. Countless seconds passed until Wanda’s spout began to lessen, and eventually, as it slowed to a passive dripping, Wanda looked up to Vision and asked him a simple question.

“Do you still love me?” She looked down in a mild shock, as that question hadn’t even been on her tongue. The query was more a reflex than an actual thought- Vision suspected from her tragic and lonely younger years. He was nevertheless taken aback and furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Wanda, I love you no less than ever. We all have moments of weakness. We cannot allow our weaknesses to overtake our opinion of ourselves… or the opinions of ourselves we believe others to hold. I look at you no differently,” he whispered. Wanda smiled and teared up again, but when she stood she looked at the puddle that was pooled on the concrete around her bare feet. Vision helped her onto the carpet, where she began to discard her clothing. Her black panties fell first, hopelessly soaked and... warm, like her legs were. The warmth was almost comforting, and the lack of pressure on her insides was peace she didn’t know she needed to feel. Her black skirt followed, only wet around the back of the rim- where it had dipped in the remains of her accident.

She threw her wet clothes next to the dark-wood dresser that rested next to her desk and retrieved her red towel from the dresser. She dried her thighs, calves and feet before carefully massaging the wetness from her vagina, whispering a moan when she accidentally dragged her finger over her reddened clitoris through the rough fabric of the towel. Vision felt himself harden again at her moan.

She dumped the towel with the rest of her wet clothing and stood next to her synthetic lover with only a black shirt and a rest chest-vest covering her pale skin.

“Vizh, what about the…” She pointed to her puddle, which barely stayed within the shape of concrete they had constructed. Vision lazily turned to it and shot a low-power beam from the gem in his forehead, the puddle evaporating as his beam graced it. Soon enough, there was no hint that anything had even happened, only a small mist of steam. Vision tugged the carpet out from under Wanda’s mattress and allowed it to fall back into place.

“Okay then,” She sighed, resting her head against Vision’s shoulder. She remained nude from the waist down, and Vision smiled as he noticed her pink lips shining in the calm, domestic lighting- whether it was from her arousal or her wetting, he didn't really care. However, she stole his attention with another question. 

“Did… Did you… God dammit…” Vision caressed Wanda’s cheek as she bit her lip in hesitation. He smiled reassuringly before she brought up the will to ask,

“Was that hot for you, too, Vizh?” She asked bluntly. Vision swallowed- despite having no need to- and took in a breath as he considered Wanda’s question.

“‘Too?’” He asked, turning to his lover. She nodded, almost in shame, and looked down to her feet, which were turned inwards. Vision took it into consideration, acknowledging how aroused he felt himself become as Wanda lost control. Silently, he nodded and whispered, ‘Yes.’. Wanda smiled as she looked back up before hugging Vision around the waist. He embraced his half-naked lover likewise, unknowingly- to her- generating quite a few scenarios they could implement into their sex life to include Wanda’s newfound kink.

 And Vision definitely couldn't be blamed, as Wanda was doing the same and she knew one fact about the last five minutes that remained irrevocably true. Wanda wanted to do it again. She wanted to do this again for her lover- though perhaps  next time, with a better battle plan. But, battle plan or not, Wanda’s chest tightened with new ideas.

 

So, for a first piece I shall post, I think I did a sufficient job of expressing my ideas. I know it had the cliche, cop-out ending lots of omorashi fanfiction has, but this was written a few months ago (back in the ending of February) and I’ve developed the endings of some other prompts a fair bit more. Any and all criticism is welcome. Also feel free to request a short with any of the characters listed in the beginning of the thread (and others if you believe I missed a certain character). 

Best regards, 

NothingLeft

Link to comment

Margaret “Peggy” Carter

Outside Garden, Carter Residence

Peggy was kneeled in her garden, trowel in hand as she dealt with a particularly stubborn weed. She dug deeper around it, almost its exact height underground before she took a steady grasp and pulled. The weed resisted, but her above-average strength given from years of secret government work made the weed finally surrender. The main root of the plant came up, with spider-like arms extending into spindly, wiry hairs. Peggy threw the weed into a small plastic bin and sighed in relief as the final weed she had accidentally allowed to take hold was killed. She ran her tongue over her bottom lip as the sudden feeling of thirst hit her. Even from under her sunhat, the bright ball of flame in the sky beat down on her with a sweltering blaze.

For the past few days, there had been a moderate heat wave passing through D.C., leaving many to consume more water than usual. Peggy was no different- in fact, she despised the dry, baking heat of the sun that had been plaguing her and her lover’s home for the last week. 

She rose from her garden and felt a twang in her side, but she ignored it as he wiped off her hands on the butt of her light jeans. She also wore a robin-egg camisole and brown hiking boots, her tanned, soft flesh and ruby lips igniting her beautiful cinnamon eyes. She headed back inside her quiet house, making a casual path for the kitchen. She opened one of the old-fashioned cupboards and brought out a slim, tall crystalline glass cup rounded on the bottom. Peggy moved over to the faucet and allowed the cold water to run for a moment so it got even colder- even though the heat warmed the water pipes, leaving them ever so slightly warmer than usual. As the water ran, Peggy felt the electric tingle and the twang from earlier return, now realizing it was the feeling of having to pee, and the memory of last week's… accident flooded her mind. 

Her whole life, Peggy had felt an odd… attraction to the idea of an accident like the one she had. Back in the days of her working life of mid-forties S.H.I.E.L.D., she never would have allowed herself to explore her taboo fantasies. But in the modern days of the Avengers and the Internet (she was still trying to figure that out), she could explore herself- almost more than she felt was socially okay. And, her exploration of her “kink” had led to… Well, an impromptu load of laundry, to say the least.

A devious smirk crawled into her face. She left her sunhat on the counter- her chestnut hair packed in a tight, high bun- filled her cup, turned off the faucet and headed straight back outside. She returned to her little garden’s hole, placing her cup on a small, flat glass table nearby. The legs and the rim that held the transparent sheet were a steel-copper metal that shone slightly in the sun.  

She kneeled before the hole and took a small packet of vegetable seeds she had kept nearby and carefully tore the bag open. Using her bare hands, she shoveled loose dirt into the small hole, filling it about halfway full. She plucked a few seeds from the packet and sprinkled them into the hole before filling it the rest of the way with more loose dirt. She reached for her glass of water, another teasing shiver bouncing up her back as her bladder kicked, tightening and pressing against her stomach ever so. She smiled as she took a small sip. She held it in her mouth for a moment, swishing it back and forth before she bent forward and spat her water onto her tomato seeds. Luckily, her house's front yard was guarded by tall, thick hedges she had grown herself over the past few years- even back in the forties, she had enjoyed gardening.The feeling of pride that came from seeing a plant of yours flourish was fantastic- shielding her from onlookers’ odd stares.

Peggy shifted over- the movement causing a twinge in her bladder- and proceeded to dig another hole of similar dimensions to the first with her trowel. She filled it back about halfway, dropped a few seeds, filled it properly, swished water and spat in onto the plants. Another, sharper twinge wracked her body, her need to go now growing more pressing. Her body was interesting in the way her need to pee worked; her body often wouldn’t tell her of her need until it was growing strong, most likely from years of discipline while on her confidential S.H.I.E.L.D. jobs. She groaned when she gripped her trowel, already doing her best to resist grabbing her crotch. 

Peggy hollowed out another hole, but this time she took a sip of water every stage of the way. She had dug the hole, so she took a sip. She moved in soft dirt. Sip. Poured in a few seeds. Sip. She palmed in more dirt. Sip. She took a heavy mouthful of water and swished it around, her bladder yelling for release as she moved the water from side to side. Just to torture herself, Peggy swallowed half of her water- her bladder now pulsated occasionally, warning her of her need though her thick, luscious legs stayed apart and her deft hand stayed at her side. Her hand sucked into a fist from her building desperation.  She swished her water some more and spat onto the seeds. Peggy sighed in a small happiness, but suddenly the relaxation sent a bigger-than-expected burst of her hot pee from her urethra, now angered from denial.

She moaned louder than she intended as she flexed her thighs to stop her premature accident. It was successful, but a dark mark about the size of her petite fist rested on her jeans. She bit her bottom lip when her horny vagina throbbed in need against her pee-dampened jeans. The pressure of her bladder was growing to almost unbearable levels as her fist was crushed into her pussy, the pressure somehow already near painful. The warmth that now intensified in her groin rubbed against her tight opening with every movement, almost taunting her bladder to release herself fully. Another devilish idea came to her mind when she thought of throwing in the towel and going to the washroom. 

She licked her top lip and flipped her leg over her plants, another burst of pee escaping against her denim. It tickled its way down her toned thighs in thin rivulets, leaving Peggy with her eyes squeezed shut and a hand over her vagina. She stifled a moan, her pussy throbbing roughly as it became its own kind of wet and blasted its own kind of heat. Peggy bent forward as far as her body would allow, using her other hand for support as she pressed her bladder into her crotch. The pressure increased somehow further and she moaned in desperation before finally... she cracked.

There was a dull splash as her bladder began emptying. From her position, some of the liquid seeped from her jeans and down into the ground as her pussy hissed. Peggy sucked her lips in to prevent from fully moaning, although no one was currently nearby to hear if she did. Her pee continued its sharp hsss as Peggy reveled in wetting her jeans in her garden. 

She suddenly remembered a dangerous fact: He would be home any minute now. And if he found her like this there would be… repercussions for her- to say the least. Peggy felt her arm unconsciously snake down her body and into her jeans to touch her flooding pussy- her other still being used for balance- rubbing her gushing opening furiously as she fervently attempted to reach an orgasm. Her hand sent splashes against her thighs and even onto her shirt, but she didn't care, because all that mattered was cumming before… ‘Sir’' came home and found her like this; wetting herself like a little bitch and trying desperately to cum- without his permission, no less.

In her pee-induced pleasure, Peggy didn't even hear a car roll to a stop in front of her house. Her clear stream was only beginning to lessen when suddenly the crisp crunch of a car door closing brought her from her other world. However, her stream was still leaking from her crotch and her hand wouldn't stop, even when Peggy did her best to pull it away. The front gate squealed upon its hinges as the sharp step of a boot came from between the hedges. Peggy steeled herself before squeezing her eyes shut and forcing her pee into her hand, creating an ungodly hkkk against her sopping jeans and her gentle hand.

Suddenly, the telltale tsk tsk tsk of a displeased Mister Wilson came from above, and her forcefulness halted, trickling down into a dribble before she looked up, her hand still resting against herself, although her pee had halted. She was too embarrassed and red-handed to meet his eyes. Though, she could tell his eyes were covered by dark, impenetrable sunglasses and his black leather jacket stayed still in the warm air. He stepped closer, causing Peggy to release a dormant squirt of piss that lurked in her bladder- that she had been doing her best to contain, no less- as she felt his dominance bleed off him in waves. Her cheeks grew hot as she sat up and forced her hand away from her burning pussy in a vain attempt to lessen her punishment, although his arms crossed before him told her he was very, very disappointed she had expected to get herself off without his permission.

He sighed sternly, and that was all that was needed to cause Peggy to gulp quietly, her pussy throbbing in excitement. He knelt down to her height and roughly brought her eyes to meet his by grabbing her chin, which she gulped excitedly at. She could only see herself reflected in his dark sunglasses, and she was pathetic. Her strong frame was shivering and weak, her blue shirt had dark spatters of piss, her light coloured jeans were soaked and her hand was wet with both kinds of her fluids. Her eyes- her shiny, brown eyes- were desperate and scared; scared of her inevitable punishment, though she knew she'd love it.

"Now get up." Sam said sternly. With all the speed she had, she jumped up and stood before him. She was only slightly shorter than him, but Sam's gaze made her feel so much smaller. He smiled evilly when her hefty breasts jumped with her. She kept her stance soldier-like as he ran his eyes over her. Without warning, his hand shot down into her jeans and gripped her flaming pussy. At first he only leisurely toyed with the short, soft hair she kept around her entrance, but he randomly dug his hand into her, feeling her warmth bleed into his fingers as he flexed her open. She grunted and almost collapsed under his rough, calloused, militarized grip, though she managed to stay standing.

"A very, very rough punishment is in order, Miss Carter." He growled- good Lord, when he growled, it was enough to make her wetter than rainfall- and tightened his grip, to the point she had to clamp her legs around his hand to stop from orgasming on the spot. She whimpered weakly- uncharacteristically weakly, especially for a woman of her stature and experience, at which her lover smiled from beneath his scowl. From behind his sunglasses she could feel his plans for her; she felt them in the sheer, dominating grip on her soaked pussy and in the glare of his eyes when he finally did bring the unfazeable glasses off his face.

“Now, strip Miss Carter, if you’re such an exhibitionist.” It wasn’t a request or a question or a notion.

It was a command, and one she would be sure to follow- lest her punishment be made worse, however much fun that would be.

My first request in honour of @Exodiuss(badass name, by the way) and an improvement from the previous piece- at least in terms of the wetter’s reaction. This piece also serves to exemplify something I spoke of in my first post, that being “I will not be writing for specific ships except my own. Any suggested characters will be applied to my personal headcanons.” Some of my personal ships are odd and off-the-wall- perhaps not even feasible in the realms of MCU canon, but isn’t that the point of fanfiction? To take our favourite characters and run marathons with them? To take these characters we already love and turn them into our own offshoots? Whether you agree or disagree with my personal headcanons and ramblings, I hope you enjoyed my first real chapter of MCU omorashi. I will be working on more chapters in the meantime (namely some for Hope Van Dyne, Natasha Romanoff and Lady Sif, so if no other requests come through expect those next). Again, any requests for a character- or even a situation if so inclined- feel free to put it to me. I’ll do my best to do them justice.

Best regards, 

NothingLeft 

P.S.- For those wondering, Steve did indeed go back in time to be with Peggy, but guilt over leaving his best friend (turned lover turned husband, obviously) led to him traveling back, but with his then-lover in tow. A realization of love for his childhood friend left Peggy broken-hearted but understanding, and an accidental, alcohol-fueled one-night-stand turned into a consensual, loving, incredibly kinky sub-dom relationship with Sam Wilson.

Edited by NothingLeft (see edit history)
Link to comment

Gamora

 

Unknown Planet

Gamora was on mission, stalking someone who had promised information to her team, the Guardians of the Galaxy. When she and Quill had gone in for the information, she had refused to give it up and sent them away. Gamora had seen this coming and planned with the others to find out why the woman had such a turn in attitude. It had been a few hours now, and Gamora’s target hadn’t moved from the small outdoor eatery she had been sitting at, except to go inside a few times- most likely to go to the washroom, as not only had she been ordering tall glasses of water every few minutes, but there was a large bubbling fountain in the center of the large courtyard. Gamora herself was beginning to feel the need to go, but her alien body and incredible cybernetic enhancements granted by… her father... allowed her to hold it for far longer than most beings.

Gamora sighed in mild boredom, but her attention perked up when a maroon-skinned thin man came to the sitting woman. He told her something she obviously couldn’t make out before she nodded and stood, brushed off her lap and followed the man. The woman looked over her shoulder before disappearing around a corner. Gamora smiled to herself before rising to follow them. She felt her bladder groan but didn’t pause.

Her open-top heels clicked menacingly yet quietly as she crossed the courtyard. Few gave her looks but simply thought she was a normal person- she was dressed normally for the warm weather on the planet; A flowy, airy, dark crimson camisole with no back and exposing cleavage as well as a matching pair of dark, legging-like tight jeans with a tight dark brown belt. Her hands and arms were decorated with tight, decorative rings and bracelets as well as dangling earrings. She had light, smoky makeup and shiny everest lipstick. Her dark hair was in a long, thick braid- thanks to Mantis, who knew where she learned that- that was tossed over her shoulder, luscious flowers courtesy of Groot. She looked like everyone else yet no one else, and that was a skill only she could ever master.

Gamora peered into the small alleyway her target had gone down only to see her sneak around another corner. Gamora sighed with irritation as her bladder nudged her again but pushed it aside and continued following, now being lighter with her footsteps. Her target was whispering from around the corner, and Gamora paused to listen.

“You talked to The Guardians!” The man sneered to her. The woman- Gamora’s target-spoke, sounding like she was on the verge of stabbing her accomplice.

“I’m sorry! I had no choice, Andolin’s going too far with the operation! I want out and others do too! But I stopped because you told me to!”

“Yeah, but will you next time?” He whispered. Gamora edged herself closer to the turn to her target and stopped again when it sounded like one of them was slammed against the wall. “Cause next time…”

There was the drawing of a dagger.

Gamora quickly whipped around and drew her sword, almost as if it appeared out of the air. To the throat of the man she pointed her blade, and he immediately dropped his own. The woman cried out and fell backwards, though she caught herself again. As she settled her stance, Gamora felt her bladder bubble with its contents, but she kept herself steady and her face neutral

“That is my target. You kill her, I kill you, we both lose.“ She emphasized her last word to try and sound as sympathetic as possible, though that wasn’t much, as a blade pointed to your throat spoke louder than a dime-a-dozen phrase.

“Whoah, woah, woah lady, chill. Look, this-” he motioned with his dagger- his other hand raised in surrender- to Gamora’s target and himself, “-is just business as usual.” Gamora scoffed; that wasn’t the first time she had heard that phrase and she was willing to bet folding money that it wouldn’t be the last.

“ Yeah. My business-”

Wrong choice of words.

“-and I’m not letting this slip through my fingers.” She warned, adjusting her stance uncomfortably.Neither noticed, thankfully, but the need was beginning to make its presence known. After this, she was definitely going to find a bathroom.

“Okay, lady, look. I’ll give you her, and I… Get to leave,” the man proposed, dropping his dagger with an irritating clatter. Gamora’s target breathed a little easier.

Gamora only wished she could have afforded herself the same luxury.

“Good terms.” Gamora stated, retracting her sword and resuming a normal stance- a bit too quickly for her heaving bladder. She swallowed the mild discomfort and shooed the man away. He quickly turned and ran, leaving his dagger on the ground. The woman sighed and closed her eyes as she asked,

“I’m sorry about before.” 

Gamora had to physically restrain her eye roll. “It’s fine, what matters is that you come now and give me that tip you know,” She told, placing her hands on her hips.

“I-I can’t leave- my sisters still need me. But, I can still tell you what I know.” The woman sighed. Gamora’s throat bobbed when the woman mentioned a sister.

“I understand, familial bonds are strong. What do you know?” 

“These pirates hunt drugs and sell ‘em on the galactic black market for three of four times their worth or price. I-I-I work at a diner, so I overheard some… some lowlifes talking about their runs…”

Gamora nodded as if just learning this information, but she and the rest of the Guardians had known since the pirate hunt began that they were drug-runners.

“And, and so… I don’t know if it’s true, but… But I heard that the leader pilots a small ship that goes faster than most, and it’s called ‘The Icicle’. It’s ice-blue and red, cone-shaped with… overcompensating artillery.” The woman finished, breathing a little easier with the load off of her chest.

“And’ that’s all?” Gamora questioned, irritation edging in her voice- despite the incredibly helpful info- due to her bladder growing more needy with every passing minute. The woman nodded with a small smile. Gamora returned the smile- however forced it felt- and paid the woman three thousand units- the reward price for all related information. She breathed a heavy sigh and thanked Gamora. The green-skinned Guardian waved her away and the woman obeyed. Gamora half-smiled and half-grimaced when she felt a pang from her lower abdomen.

She needed a bathroom. 

Now that she was alone, Gamora let her guard down. She threw one of her long, slender legs over the other and bent down to hold herself more efficiently. She let out a low sigh and cleared her throat. Her bladder ached with pressure as Gamora stood straight and took her hand from her groin.

“Dammit… Why couldn’t it be a planet I know…” She grumbled to herself. This planet, well, she didn’t even know the name of this planet, let alone where the bathrooms were and when one would be available. 

The diner,’ she thought. The diner her target had been sitting outside of, that had to have a bathroom. Gamora walked out of the alleyway, making sure she didn’t appear too suspicious… or desperate, for that matter.

But, as she approached the door, she noticed the windows dark. On the door was a sheet, and she deciphered the language. It was a timetable telling when the eatery was open. This odd planet appeared to have a similar day cycle to Terra- a twenty-four hour cycle- and it was open from eight AM to ten PM. Gamora peered through a darkened window, and the time was revealed to be ten-eighteen.

Gamora groaned in frustration. It was going to take a bit more than that, apparently.

Forty-Five Minutes Later…

The green-skinned Guardian had been searching the town for well close to an hour for a damn bathroom, yet nothing applicable had presented itself to her- despite her searching. Either none had existed, or, when they did, they were inside homes or inside closed businesses. But, at this point, she was willing to turn back to the alleyway she had interrogated her target.

“Damn it…” Gamora whined to herself. Her holding was subtle as she searched; Her long legs would occasionally cross and her hands would grasp her hips. To an onlooker, she simply looked bored or antsy, not necessarily ’pee-desperate’- yet, at least. She stood outside a large restaurant, looking at what seemed to be the latest in a never-ending line of ‘Closed’ signs. Her bladder was frequently sending rolls of pain and discomfort through her to communicate its fullness. Gamora subtly felt her lower stomach, feeling a hard, pained surface she believed to be her bladder.

As she felt it, another pang hit that told her it was a necessity to find a bathroom, or else her bladder… Wouldn’t discriminate. She groaned again and resisted the urge to physically hold herself.

Alleyway it is!’ 

She began moving- swiftly at first, but her bladder reminded her that fast wasn’t an option. Eventually, her walking led her indeed back to the alley, though it was farther than she thought. It had taken ten minutes to find it, and now she couldn’t stop herself from holding with her hands. Her jeans dug into her waist and into her bladder, causing flares of pain every time her bladder pulsed with warning. She approached the alleyway, watching behind her to be sure no perverts were stalking her. No one had even seen her come back, as no one had been around due to everything’s closing.

Gamora sighed and moved further into the alley. When she was out of view of the courtyard, Gamora went down to unbutton her jeans… And her belt was in the way. A heavy shiver went up her back, causing her entire body to shake. She whimpered as more pain rolled into her body, moving her hands to her thin, tight belt. She tried to pull the belt far enough from her body to undo it, but the strength needed to do that was almost too much, as the exertion caused a cry from her bladder.

Panicked, Gamora bent over with her hands in her crotch and her legs crossed. She groaned in pain and in an attempt to keep her bladder’s contents in her until she was free of her pants. The feeling didn’t pass for a few minutes, and when it did she warily rose. Her hands shot to her belt, but it was too taut against her belly and her hands were shaking from desperation. She needed to go so goddamn bad and it was hurting, like a knife was stuck in her bladder.

“No, no, please…” She spoke through her teeth as her thin, shaking fingers fought with her belt. Finally, she managed to grip the belt and pull its excess through the loops she had tucked it in. The buckle was tight and pressed against her belly, and when she tried to pull the belt from the buckle, it pinched her skin. She yelped quietly and the pain caused a small spurt to escape her. She whimpered in denial as her crotch warmed, though she managed to reseal herself. She sucked her lips in preparation to see her damage, but she couldn’t help the small whimper of disappointment in herself when she saw a blurry dark spot on the seam of her jeans.

“No…” A blast of need shot through her and her hands fell back to her belt, careful not to pinch herself again. She pulled it away and tried to undo her belt, but the shaking in her hands kept allowing it to slip. She whimpered louder as the swelling in her bladder caused more pain, and now her legs absolutely had to stay crossed for sheer containment.

“No, no, no!” She begged, still fumbling with her belt as she bounced- yes, the deadliest woman in the galaxy was bouncing on her crossed legs because she was on the verge of pissing her pants in an unknown planet’s alleyway-on her foot, her hands now futily scratching at her belt. The contents of her bladder were bubbling and boiling, just waiting to exit- but she wouldn’t, she would not let herself lose control, not until she had her pants down, not until she was-

She was-

Gamora looked down in sheer terror as warmth flooded her thighs. Her breath hitched, and very nearly stopped, as the crimson jeans wrapping her legs dyed darker, shining in the dying light. A hissing, alongside a noisy pattering, filled the alleyway as Gamora slowly began wetting herself. She was silent, still in sheer realization` as a puddle darkened the ground beneath her, flowing between divides in the cobblestone. Gamora’s back slowly hit the wall behind her as her bottom lip quivered, her bladder draining noisily into her jeans. Her crotch was viciously heated and her toned, round ass grew soaked as Gamora fell into a sit- not without a dull splash in her shame- and focused ruthlessly on the puddle surrounding her.

Though, through fighting tears, Gamora felt her bladder ache with relief. The ensuing emptiness was so nice, but her mind fell back to the fact… She was pissing her pants. Even as a young child, she had never, never wet herself. Her throat bobbed with shame when her vagina gurgled and a blast of piss arced through her pants, splashing a few inches outside her puddle. A single tear slowly fell from her eye and down her cheek.

She would never live this down. Not from others- no one else would know- but herself. She knew that this would always live in the back of her mind. While she swore herself to secrecy, her emptying bladder slowly began quieting, the splashing and pattering of her urine coming to a slow trickle over a minute or two. The trickle tickled the most sensitive area of her thigh in an odd manner that her subconscious wasn’t quite sure it hated, but her conscious mind forced her to hate it with despair and sadness. 

The trickle eventually ceased, leaving Gamora’s thighs warm and drenched. Gamora stood- her legs were quivering with release and shame- with the help of the wall. She stood, her heels creating a soft splish as she stepped in her shame. She willed her beating heart to calm and she looked at her darkened jeans with disgust. 

“What did I do…” She sighed sadly. She would have to wait for her jeans to dry before contacting the other Guardians- who were in the atmosphere of the mystery planet waiting for her to contact- lest Rocket and Drax tease her six feet under. She looked at her jeans a final time and wondered to herself if the jeans would ever dry.

As the first piece posted I wrote from scratch, I hope it pleased @Zuorsara. The ending was definitely the better kind of omorashi endings- the wetter alone and ashamed (I may house a little sadism, but don't all writers?). Regardless, I hope all enjoyed. Feel free to request any character or situation desired. Also, if no other requests come in the meantime I've decided to create a Sif piece, and that should be coming soon.

Best regards,

NothingLeft

Link to comment

Lady Sif

 

Empty Dining Hall, New Asgard

Thor and Sif found themselves in the heat of passion late into the night, kissing fervently and losing clothing quickly. Thor discarded his chest plate, allowing his re-emerging muscles to breathe as he heaved Sif's gentle frame onto a table. Even with his added heft, Thor was magnificent to admire. Sif had discarded her chestplate as well, only a complicated Aesir breast-buckle censoring her perky bust. She quickly undid the ropes holding it together and allowed it to fall, revealing her small, erect nipples and supple areolas. 

Thor undid the front seal of his pants, unleashing his meaty, hefty Aesir penis. It was thicker and longer than an average human’s, and even by Aesir standards it was impressive. There was a fat, glistening drop of precum edging from the eye. Sif took it readily in her gentle, petite fingers and  basked as Thor moaned animalistically. She rubbed her hand down his hard, veiny shaft before rising again and swiping the glob of precum on his tip, rubbing it into her palm with her thumb. She ran her small, slippery hand down the almost impossibly thick shaft- her hand barely wrapped two-thirds of the way around the mighty, godlike organ.

Sif quickly dragged her trousers down just past her vagina, reveling as the cool air hit her hot, velvety gates. She released Thor’s erection from her silky grasp and had to stop herself from engulfing it entirely when it throbbed manically, lusting after her silky touch. Thor dove against his lover’s mouth and grappled her tongue against his, and Sif gasped against Thor’s mouth when his large godhood, reddened and swollen from her teasing foreplay, slapped her moistening entrance. She felt her own dull throbbing just below her stomach, but in the moment she thought it was just arousal. As Thor’s godhood rubbed her vagina lengthwise, Sif threw her head back and moaned as loud as her body ached for. Thor couldn’t  restrain himself any longer and readied himself to enter, leaning above her with fists beside her slim hips. One glance up to Sif’s loving gaze and a nod was all he needed before he shoved himself in. There was a crisp, wet slap as the lovers’ sweaty thighs made contact for the first time in too long. 

Three days was too long.

Sif screamed in pleasure and slight shock as she felt herself already orgasming. At least, that’s what she thought it was at first. In actuality, Thor’s thrust had sent a shock wave to her bladder and hit it just wrong- or so, so right- causing it to empty. Sif didn't notice she had to pee through her blind horniness but she began panicking when she couldn't stop her gushing accident from happening.

“Thor!” She screamed in equal panic and pleasure when the realization hit her. Her head fell back as Thor continued, but before he could assure her, there were gurgling splashes as Sif’s boiling urine rushed from her vagina, blocked by Thor's godly meat. Thor smiled and chuckled breathily when he realized: that

He made Sif wet herself.

Her urine splashed over both of their abdomens from Thor’s forceful thrusts, as well as splashing heavily against Sif’s pants, drenching her dark-blue panties with the warm, yellow liquid. Every time he entered and retreated from her warm, squishy insides, he sent a wave of her amber liquid over the both of them. Thor only continued as his lover’s sputters intensified, and it was then Sif realized…

Thor was enjoying himself. He was enjoying the fact that Asgard’s best warrior had been made to wet herself. During sex. And the worst part was that… Sif was loving it too. The freeing feeling as the pressure she had unwittingly gathered disintegrated, combined with the pleasure of Thor’s brutal thrusts and the splashing of her pee as it soaked into her trousers, her panties and spattered onto the floor beneath them. It created a beautiful symphony of feelings within that made her want to pee again just to recreate the sensation. But her stream was faltering as her bladder emptied, and yet Thor continued.

“Are you enjoyin’- AH- this? Me wetting all over the both of… FUCK! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” She screamed as Thor repeatedly- almost painfully- hit her most sensitive spot. Her back arched electrically as Thor ruthlessly sucked a true orgasm from her, a small amount more of Sif’s urine splashing from her in combination with a thick, white liquid from deep inside. She couldn’t help herself any longer and reached to her chest, ruthlessly squeezing her stiff, throbbing, aching nipples to satiate her unending lust

“Yes! I’m loving this, Sif. I never knew I would but- oh, God- I love you!” He shouted, approaching his climax quickly. “I mean, I had a feeling, but now… Fuck! I want to see you do it on your own!” He yelled sporadically. The idea sent another wave of hot arousal through Sif’s body. She really, really wanted to have to pee again, but instead she moaned and wrapped her arms around Thor’s meaty shoulders and pressed her chest to his, unknowingly putting her G-spot directly in the path of his godlike penis. Like a dead-eye he struck it every time and Sif felt her eyes roll back into her head with deadly force as another perfect orgasm sent violent spasms through her muscles. Goosebumps rose all over her as Thor whispered,

“Sif, I have to… I’m gonna-” She bit his neck and shouted,

“In me! Cum in me!” Thor moaned as the line he had wanted Sif to shout damn near his entire life erupted from her pleasure-wracked mouth once again. Thor gripped Sif’s shoulders as his testicles swelled before a superhuman blast of Aesir semen was magmatically shot into Sif’s vagina. Sif felt her muscles fail as she slumped against Thor's shoulder, the thick liquid quickly filling her vagina, leaking out of the opening as Thor’s penis twitched and drained within her. 

Immediately, Sif dropped from the table he had settled her on and fell to her knees, engulfing Thor’s cock in her swollen mouth. Her head was light and spinning as she tasted a cornucopia of flavours- the saltiness of his sperm, the sweetness of her own juices, and the bitterness of her own urine. It was an odd sensation, but one that Sif reveled in as she licked Thor clean. She pushed her mouth down to Thor's balls- which she tauntingly flicked with her tongue as she gagged, not to mention that the sweaty, manly smell of pure distilled Thor was a drug stronger than anything possible in physical form- before she pulled back, allowing the fluids that had gone onto her lips to settle on them. She knew she looked like a complete slut, a dime-per-fuck whore who loved to be used, but for only Thor- her God- would she look like this; Ruffled, messy hair, heaving reddened chest, burning loins and a stained, messy, cum-painted face.

Thor fell back against another table as Sif sat on her knees before him, her hands on her thighs innocently. Her sharp-angled jaw dripped a small spatter of his thick cum and her clear juices- of both kinds- when Sif flicked her agile, small tongue out and got what she could off of her cheeks and lips. The movement displaced some and forced the aforementioned glob of their intoxicating concoction to fall from under her nose onto her thighs with a small splatter. 

Sif smiled as a sudden shiver forced whatever remained in her burning pussy out. A quick, powerful spurt of her thick juice and Thor's indescribable semen spattered onto the back of her pants with a quick, quiet spchh. She rose before her God, wiping her mouth fully and licking her fingers eagerly, tasting the remarkable combined flavour once again.

“I believe you should wet yourself again, Lady Sif.” Thor sighed quietly.

Sif grinned with a teasing, filthy grin. “Then I need to wet myself, my Lord.” Thor smiled and kissed Sif gently, He massaged the small of her back and Sif gripped his thick biceps as they both came down from their newfound, kinky high. Sif placed herself on Thor's thigh, carefully massaging her tender, almost sore pussy on his thick limb, more in a soothing manner than a horny one.

She had hated being away from him for however long it had been- not counting the millennium and a half it took them to finally begin loving, though all those years it had taken just made this connection they shared all the more romantic and- as Midgardians said, “Shakespearean”- and now that they were together in the most deep and genuine way fathomable, she was letting nothing separate them.

Her God of Thunder. 

His Goddess of War. 

A love to be written in tales- though perhaps without the graphic details and kinkiness. 

Then again, those were some of the best parts.

Well, there we are. The most sexually graphic story so far and not the last of its kind, I can assure. If anyone was taken aback by the sexual content, I apologize, and I could start putting sexual warnings if desired. Regardless, another piece of my ninety-prompt workload out in a place where they can be seen and read. I'm unsure what to work on after this, so I may post a pre-written piece whilst I await another request- in that case, expect a piece for Pepper, Ava or Mantis coming next. Any and all requests that obey the rules in the post's genesis are welcome.

 

P.S.- I acknowledge that there is a severe personality change in Sif from Thor: The Dark World, and the only applicable excuse I can grant is that after one-and-a-half thousand years of pining and lusting and dirty midnight fantasies, both Thor and Sif wouldn't want to waste a moment, and they trust the bond between them to be invincible and unbreaking, no matter what lashing it receives, so they trust each other enough to have divulged every one of their aforementioned dirty fantasies. Sif wants nothing more than to be all Thor wants while staying the fierce warrior she knows they both want, while Thor realizes what he turned his back on for centuries and now wishes to make up for lost time, wanting to be all Sif desires and has desired since she knew what sex was. They love each other more than either can fathom, explain or justify, but they don't care about rationality. They don't care about what others think- whether it's that Sif is handing herself over too readily, or that they go too far, or that their 'love' just 'use and abuse'. They love each other, and they're willing to be radical, devoted- scarily so- and dangerously loyal. They are willing and ready to do everything and anything to prove their love. They already know it to be a truth and law, but this... Wild, kinky and almost offensive sex is meant to be a message; A message for the universe. A message to whatever overlords and superancient, transcendent beings watch over them.

They love each other, and nothing- not Odin, not Thanos, not Ultron, not even Lady Death herself- can break their bond. A bond forged in the most blazing of forges, with the wisest of hands and with the finest of tools. A bond forged from recesses of childhood and strengthened through battle, side-by-side. Though thought fractured, they've come, now, after lifetimes of wanting- needing each other, they've come together, and they both know that life- even such as lengthy as theirs- is a dot in the universe.

A speck. A molecule. A blip...

A bond.

Apologies for the length of this post-story message. A few of those I've asked to read this over before posting have said the relationship feels toxic and one-sided, so I've had this on my chest for a few days. I hope this... rant didn't dampen any moods, and have a good day.

Best regards, 

 

NothingLeft

Link to comment

Shuri

 

Shuri's Lab

Shuri slurped up the last of an uncounted cup of coffee, busying herself with an important project. With T'Challa joining the Avengers- which was absolutely a dream of hers ever since 2012, when they defended New York City from an alien invasion as only a team of six. She remembered only being twelve, and seeing a very real news report of something every kid had made stories and games about was… Almost ethereal.

As was her current project.

She was working on a few pieces for other Avengers T’Challa had recommended. After a look at Tony’s Stark mark one-hundred-thirteenth Iron Man armour- his current suit was the one-sixteenth- she stood impressed by the colonizer’s ingenuity. While she could have made more impressive armour with her vibranium resources, she would admit- never to anyone’s face though- that if she had the same resources, she would have made similar advancements. But something that had been incredibly interesting to her is that when she analyzed the ‘arc reactors’- the suit’s power sources- she found that they were powered by vibranium. Vibranium that he had made in his basement!

How he knew how to make the metal, or how it even existed in the first place? Apparently his father made Captain America’s invincible shield- leave it to a war-profiteering colonizer to make an unbreakable frisbee for an asthmatic patriot on super-steroids- but all her research told her that Howard Stark had left no records of vibranium, so how Tony got ahold of the formula was beyond her. 

Either way, Shuri was working on a prototype for a miniaturized version of her panther gauntlets to make them more efficient and portable- heaving around seven-pound weights constantly was getting to her a little bit- and she was getting close to her final design. Her hands held two precision tools, all of her focus dedicated to the complex inner workings of her new weapons. Only a small bit of wiring was needed to finish them, and she was so close to-

Her hands faltered when her kimoyo beads chirped on her wrist, causing a spark from her prototypes. She groaned loudly at the regression of her work, her anger rising as she took the call.

Her voice was irritated and sharp as she shouted, “T’Challa, you screwed up my new gauntlets! I swear to Bast, if this isn’t important-” 

“Oh-ho, a little feisty, aren’t we?” She was taken aback as the deeper, more baritone voice of her recently-married husband, M’Baku, reached her ears. She suddenly felt bad for yelling as his form appeared in a hologram projected by the beads.

“Oh, M’Baku! I’m sorry, T’Challa has been all over me lately.” She sighed shortly, putting her tools down and rubbing her eyes. She felt a sudden tension in her shoulders as well and exhaled at the new tightness. 

“Ah, it’s okay. But, are you, my Queen?” He asked, his voice concerned and smooth. “You look tense, even through this… Magic,” He joked. Even with the reunion of Wakanda and the Jabari, there was still some division between their people, as many Jabari- about as many as had embraced it- were wary and doubtful of technology. M’Baku was willing to give technology a shot, and thanks to his wisdom and ability to put things in perfect words- he was incredibly convincing, especially when he was between her legs in any manner- Shuri had realized the importance of Wakanda’s ancient traditions.

She felt almost foolish for thinking the way she did, but she knew dwelling would do her no good. Instead she smiled warmly at her husband’s hologram. It had been a year and a half since the Battle Of Earth, which meant a year and a half since he had been revived from his fate. She remembered it all too well…

May 2018, Wakanda

Shuri breathed hard as the battle raged around them. The hideous creatures the aliens had sent to fight- those that weren’t dead or dismembered from the shield or warriors were wild and rabid, almost unthinking. Her mind was rushing to take everything in- she had been doing her best to dismantle the Vision’s stone when a slim alien dressed in black with a spear had broken into her facility and taken him away after a woman in red had leapt from one of the windows. Now, she had her heavy panther gauntlets and was doing her best to kill the… whatever they were. Around her she saw a blonde woman in a dark olive catsuit fighting off the attacking aliens with two electric batons- Black Widow- the woman from her lab, with ginger hair and a red trench coat using red power from her hands- the Scarlet Witch- and Sergeant Barnes, firing his new machine gun with a bloody passion. 

The numbers of the aliens were beginning to slowly dwindle, and they were close to victory. Above her, Thor used his new weapon to blow up one of the conical landing ships full of aliens, sending singed scraps of the bodies all over the field. Over the comm Rogers had given her to communicate, she heard Bruce Banner- who was in a version of Tony Stark’s “Hulk-Buster”- whisper,

“Cap. That’s him.” Over the radio, Steve commanded to the other Avengers,

“Eyes up, stay sharp. Everyone on me.” Shuri didn’t ask twice and started off towards Steve, but stopped as M’Baku, leader of the Jabari, stopped her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Where are you going?” He asked, looking around the battlefield as the other Avengers moved to Rogers’ position. “What is happening?” He looked back to her, his brow furrowed in confusion.

“He’s here.” She spoke ominously. His face hardened and he swallowed with wariness. “You can’t go there, you’ll… you will die,” M’Baku warned, holding Shuri tightly. Her throat ducked as he spoke the truth she didn’t want to admit; She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold her own against Thanos. If the Hulk couldn’t…

“I… I can’t stay, I... “ She stopped. She didn’t want to die, but if she didn’t go… No, she had to go.

“Please, I can’t lose you. They are incredibly powerful, they can handle him. Stay,” He begged. Over the past two years, they had fallen for each other, and her paying visit after visit to Jabari-Land- due to M’Baku’s obligations and things expected of him- they had become intimate quite a few times. After all of that, he couldn’t let her walk into the deadliest being the universe had ever fought,

Shuri froze for a moment, truly and actually considering what her lover was saying. She didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay where it was safe, but the warrior’s spirit within her was telling her, ‘Go. Fight.’

Her own spirit won out.

“We fight- here- together. We let the strong do battle we cannot,” M’Baku whispered, twirling his weapon in his hand. Shuri nodded and looked up to him, their ten-inch difference in height commanding Shuri to physically look up to meet her lover’s eyes.

“Together.” 

“Always, my love.”

Not five minutes later, she has her hands against his massive frame as he faded into colourless dust. That day, she also learned that her brother, the godlike Black Panther, had also died to Thanos’ snap, as he had stolen the Mind Stone from Vision despite the Avengers’ best efforts. That night, were it not for Okoye- T’Challa’s closest friend aside from herself- Shuri would have ended her life.

Present

Shuri shook off the despondent memory and laughed to herself. “So, what are you calling for, my love?” She asked, smiling warmly. M’Baku wore a knowing smile and scratched the back of his neck. 

“Well…” There was silence before M’Baku’s communication was cut. She looked at her kimoyo beads in confusion before M’Baku’s voice boomed through her empty laboratory.

“I thought I’d show up in person.” He was dressed in surprisingly modern clothes, and his hair was freshly cut, curly and fresh. As he came closer, Shuri could smell the sheer man he constantly and amazingly smelled like. “Besides, T’Challa told me you were working yourself half to death.” He sighed, rubbing her back with his massive hand. She sighed in attempted relaxation, but her body was simply too tense, and M’Baku felt it in her shoulder blade.

 “Dear lord, you are tense,” He commented, pressing her shoulder a bit harder, relieving a small piece of her overworked tension. Shuri sighed a bit easier in response, nodding slowly as she put her head in her hand. M’Baku laughed through his nose and moved behind his wife, his strong hands moving up and down her back. They came to wrap around the apex of her shoulders, just beside her neck.

He squeezed her shoulders and she had to hold back a moan.

It wasn’t a sexual moan, but it was one of pure satisfaction. Shuri bit her lip and gasped, M’Baku laughing slowly behind her. “There we go, my Queen,” He commented, now slowly working her shoulders. With every pinch and squeeze more of her tension snapped away, and it wasn’t long until she released a low sigh that bordered on being a breathy groan. M’Baku continued working on her shoulders, and a particularly effective gentle jab with his thumb into a hard spot brought out a solid moan, Shuri no longer able to hold her sounds back. 

Her husband, growing more confident, coaxed her up to stand. Her legs quivered once, but she managed to rise with his help. He stood behind her, but his hands remained on her shoulders, squeezing and relaxing them with incredible grip. Shuri didn’t notice his left hand fall from her right shoulder until she felt a tug on the side of the waistband of her white shorts-which were quite short, barely passing her hips. Were she to spread her legs more than a few inches, her chocolatey vagina's luscious lips would no doubt poke out, as she had foregone panties again, for what seemed like another consecutive time in a month- and M’Baku could very much see that.

“Mm, these are quite short, my love…” He purred in her ear, still working her shoulder. Shuri nodded slowly, her head lolling to the side from her washing tension. Before she could properly respond, a sudden shiver shot up and down her spine for a reason Shuri least expected. Her bladder, which hadn’t made a sound since she had begun her work, suddenly blared the most intense siren she had ever felt. Her legs clamped together with a mousy squeak coming from her mouth.

“Are you alright?” M’Baku muttered, concerned he had overstepped- he certainly hadn’t, as Shuri had been having daydreams of him powering through her right on her desk as of late- but she gasped in a sigh when her bladder contracted painfully.

“Ah, I… No, no, I just…” She gritted her teeth as M’Baku’s thick fingers ghosted the warmth her heated pussy was emanating. She wanted him to touch her, but she feared what would happen were she to unclench her legs. “I have to… I have to pee...” She swallowed thickly when she felt her husband grin against her neck.

“Really… All this time alone, and you didn’t feel-” M’Baku’s hand drifted down  from her shoulder, under her small, perky breast, down her lean torso and over her bladder, where he massaged it laxly “-this?” He chuckled. “How did this happen?”

“I was so tense and focused, I…” She bit her lip when her bladder pulsed warningly against his rough hand. “I just didn’t notice… But your massage, it… Loosened things up,” She sighed when his hand in her waistband passed through and gently grasped her left asscheek. “I-I have to go, M’Baku,” She moaned as she felt his dexterous thumb and thick middle finger spread her lithe gluts apart, her tightened hole now accessible to him. She felt his index circle around her taboo entrance, wringing a moaning breath from her- though it was tainted with the pain of her full bladder.

“So go, I see nothing stopping you…” M’Baku whispered scandalously as his hand allowed her ass to resettle, He withdrew his hand from her shorts and brought it up to her mouth, presenting her his index finger. Recently, they had both agreed to attempt things with her ass, so she had been incredibly diligent in cleaning her anus in the past few weeks- she knew it to be clean. Momentarily entering a primal, horny mode, she took his finger in and lubricated it with her hot, slippery spit. Her husband smiled at her readiness and hastily moved back down to her ass. He spread it once more and caressed the tight hole with his wet finger.

“I can’t just… Go here, M’Baku… I have to… Go,” She sighed. She didn’t mean leave anymore, Hell, she probably wouldn’t make it anymore. All she wanted was for her husband to get on with his unspoken promise, and for her rapidly-approaching release. He torturously poked her rear’s entrance again, sucking another moan from her- though this one of irritation. His right hand, which rested on her hard, full bladder, moved down and into her pants, caressing her true entrance. Her vagina was warm and shaky with the pressure it was holding back. 

“Come now, my love. You’ve done worse acts in worse places, no?” He taunted, bringing forth memories- there had been a time a few months ago when they had had sex in Wakanda’s royal garden, and another where M’Baku had fingered her to orgasm several times under a table at an eat-in restaurant, and another when she had given him a blowjob in an open hallway of the royal palace. But this was more. This wasn’t just voyeuristic desires and risky public sex, this was going against something she had learned to act against and prevent for over twenty years- though there were, of course, a few incidents in her childhood from stupidity, rebellion or mishap.

Peeing her pants.

Just the expression alone felt juvenile and immature, but when M’Baku’s finger finally, slowly slipped inside her ass, she felt her fate come ever closer. She wasn’t entirely opposed to the idea- she was willing to give anything a first chance- but, should they be caught in the act, it wouldn’t merely result in T’Challa giving her a stern talking-to about being reckless. She would be ridiculed and mocked by her lab assistants, possibly by the people of Wakanda should word get out.

“Okay, okay. Just…. Please let me lock the lab door…” She moaned as M’Baku pushed his finger further inside, her raging asshole tight and strangling on his thick finger.

“It was done as soon as I entered…” She breathed a shaky, pained sigh but it morphed into a high moan as M’Baku moved his right hand over Shuri’s flaming, locked pussy, massaging the tense lips and pushing ever deeper inside her tight anus. It felt like a vice on either side of her and in her, and she wouldn’t be able to hold it any longer as her muscles were beginning to tire.

“Okay, okay.” She sighed in relief, her bladder screaming for release. She did her best to relax her thighs, but her brain simply wouldn’t let her. Every subconscious voice told her ‘No, no, no! Wait for a toilet!’ She pushed her bladder from within, but all she received was a flaming pain from denial.

“I can’t… My… It won’t let me…” She sighed. She no longer wished to flee to a washroom- though that thought had never really entered her head to begin with- she now just wanted what her body was screaming for to just start already. M’Baku nodded from her shoulder and finally reached the end of his left index finger, his knuckles now pressed to her cheek as he rested fully inside her tight, molten-hot asshole. He curled his finger from within her and ripped a shrill, piercing moan from her lips. His hand on her pussy pressed against, reveling in the feeling of the hairless, smooth surface. 

“Perhaps I can help…” He pulled apart her lips with his index and ring fingers before sliding his middle inside her. Shuri felt her bladder spasm in response, but it stayed shut with a wrack of pain. M’Baku pressed in as far as his finger could reach- her body would have rejoiced at the feeling had her bladder not been hard, tight and commanding. He curled his middle finger up, jabbing her insides into her bladder gently.

“That’s- Oh Bast!” She shouted in primal panic as her muscles finally failed. She felt a hot rush of pee spray against her husband’s hand and spatter loudly and uncaringly into her shorts. The boiling liquid rushed up against M’Baku’s wrist and splashed over the lip of her shorts and rushed down her silky, ebony legs, pattering and splashing deafeningly against the floor of her lab. As the pee rushed down her smooth, quivering thighs to splash noisily on the floor, Shuri felt her husband piston both hands’ fingers in and out of her orifices, forcing her to release screams of pleasure. Her legs shook violently as her bladder furiously pushed its long-held contents into her clothes, onto her lover’s hand and relentlessly, ceaselessly, hellaciously echoing around the room as a puddle grew around her feet.

Shuri moaned again as the constant pulsing of her lover’s fingers in her vagina- and especially in her burning ass- alongside the rushing, spurting spray of piss drenching her white shorts- they were beyond soaked and were now better defined as ‘waterlogged’- sent a paralyzing orgasm up her back. She fell back against M’Baku’s thick, sturdy body, accidentally pushing her finger in her ass somehow deeper, which she moaned limply at. The gushing from her vagina was beginning to lessen, the constant- almost rhythmic- splashing beginning to die down. Her pelvic muscles were sore and weak, absolutely helpless and aching when Shuri’s subconscious tried to clench the constant, slow flow out of her vagina. 

Her thighs were tickled by the flowing liquid, reveling even more as her pussy’s slowly lessening flow reduced to a mere trickle. They stayed like that- M’Baku standing, Shuri only half-cognizant in his arms and her vagina leaking practically incontinently. M’Baku slowly retracted his index finger from his wife’s anus, which brought a shredded, tired whine.

“Well, that was… I’m glad you let that happen, my love,” M’Baku whispered, kissing Shuri’s neck lovingly in an attempt to bring her back. She only nodded quickly, her legs not even close to strong enough to support her. M’Baku bent down and brought her into his arms much like he did when he married her.

“Mmm…” Shuri moaned as a small leak, the last of her urine from her weakened pussy rolled across her hip and down her ass before it dripped into the puddle beneath her. “The mess… I….” She whimpered, barely able to form proper words.

“I will handle it, my dear. This was my idea to begin with,” He commented slowly, kissing her forehead. “Now, you live in your lab, do you have a bed in it?” He jokingly asked with a smile.

Shuri nodded tiredly and pointed to a small unmarked door. M’Baku brought her to the door, and Shuri managed to open it. Inside was not much- a bed, an average-sized dresser and a small, technologically complex hamper, of sorts. With one hand, M’Baku managed to wriggle down Shuri’s soaked shorts, dropping them to the floor with a wet schlap. Her black t-shirt was wetted around the bottom hem- no doubt from M’Baku’s wild fingering- so he did his best to pull it off of her head. She lifted herself up by wrapping her arms around his thick neck before resettling into his arms and raising her own so he could finally tug her shirt off. As well as she could, Shuri kicked off her shoes, which were wet as well. It took three tries, but her right shoe clattered on the floor. The left took five before it joined its partner. M’Baku smiled as he laid her down on her plush bed before looking for a towel or cloth of any kind within the room.

“On the… door,” Shuri whispered. Her husband looked to the door before rising and looking to its back. Indeed there was a dry, white towel hanging on a small hook. He drew it off of the hook and reapproached his lover, who spread her legs subconsciously. M’Baku smiled as Shuri’s vagina peeked open with the most brief, soft stch. He carefully dried the remaining urine off of her vagina- smiling at a worn, broken moan breaking from his wife’s from its oversensitivity due to easily the strongest orgasm she ever had- her succulent, ebony thighs and the base of her sore, aching, weak bladder.

“How was that, my love?” M’Baku whispered in Shuri’s ear. She could only groan happily and laugh weakly, pulling him as best she could to lay beside her. Before he followed his wife, M’Baku closed the door, bathing them both in darkness. M’Baku picked up his petite wife with a single arm, hand positioned on her ass for leverage, and brought the covers up, before laying her back underneath them. He removed his own shirt, allowing his muscles to breathe, before climbing in bed beside her. Immediately she pressed her warm, nude, sore form against him and sighed, falling asleep almost immediately.

M’Baku smiled as his wife breathed deeply. He loved her, more than any woman he had ever met, and he would do anything for her. Before drifting to sleep himself, M’Baku smiled as he played with his wife’s straight, calm, chocolatey hair. 

He loved her, so much, and he would die- again- to protect her.

So, I have done as @desperation_fan so kindly requested, and I apologize for the late upload. I won't make excuses or drown you with personal tales, just please pardon me for the tardiness- same with the 'Gamora' chapter, I fell asleep before I could post it when I finished it- and I apologize. Regardless, if you want to see a character from the first post's list or a situation for a character- or both if you desire- then please let me know. 

Best regards,

NothingLeft

Link to comment
On 4/26/2020 at 2:01 AM, NothingLeft said:

An Introduction To My Game

Hello all, I am NothingLeft. As a silent member of the omorashi community for a long while, I felt that I should give something back in my own way. Be the change I want to see, in a manner of speaking. I have over eighty prompts I will work on and post here as they finish. But, if there's a certain character, situation, piece of dialogue or wetting catalyst, please write them in the comments (as well as if you'd like credit for it).

I should preface; These take place in the universe of Earth- 382 022, a branch of the MCU Multiverse. An anomaly, this universe- among others- gave the Avengers a victory over Thanos. But it came with costs- different than the ones in Earth- 199 999. The life of Captain Marvel and Iron Man's right arm- as well as some new characters and character power changes. 

Now, the Avengers are at peace, and with their new team members, the only disturbances they have to deal with is the occasional gang boss. Discoveries are made with their new freedoms.

Before I get to the point, I must say a few things, a small list I have to get off my chest;

  • I will not be writing non-consensual (unless it's role-play, in which case fair game)/pedophillac content.
  • I will not be writing messing or farting content.
  • I will not be writing diaper or pull-up content.
  • I will not be writing for specific ships except my own. Any suggested characters will be applied to my personal headcanons.
  • I will not be writing literal age regression- Little space, hypnosis/mind control, role-play, et cetera are fair game).
  • I will not be writing for the Marvel TV shows (Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., Jessica Jones, Daredevil, et cetera), films only.
  • I will not be writing male omorashi.
  • There are some characters that have not appeared in the MCU (such as Angel Dust from Deadpool) or some of my own ideas (my own Emma Frost spin

I want to clarify; All of these will be wettings. Not desperation, not 'barely made it' or anything of that sort. With all that said, if any of this appeals to the senses, feel free to come to my side of the fences!

Also, a completed character list. Feel free to request any of these characters, and perhaps let me know if you think there's someone I missed!

  • Pepper Stark/Rescue
  • Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow 
  • Sif/Lady Sif
  • Peggy Carter/Agent Carter
  • Maria Hill/Agent Hill
  • Gamora
  • Nebula
  • Hope Van Dyne/The Wasp
  • Ava Starr/Ghost
  • Wanda Maximoff/The Scarlet Witch
  • Mantis, Brunnhilde/Valkyrie
  • Shuri, Okoye
  • Mary Jane Watson
  • Janet Van Dyne/The Retro-Wasp
  • Jane Foster
  • Betty Ross/Red She-Hulk
  • Laura Kinney/Wolverine X-23
  • Emma Frost/White Queen
  • Hela
  • Christina Catastrophie/Angel Dust
  • Vanessa Carysle/Copycat

I gotta say, great work. A Hela wetting would be noice

Link to comment

Mary Jane Watson

 

Ontario Highway

Peter Parker, Ned Leeds, Gwen Stacy- Ned’s girlfriend of a few months- and Mary Jane Watson were seated comfortably in Ned’s new van he had purchased just a few days ago, now headed to… Somewhere. To be honest, they didn’t really have a plan for anywhere to go, but they were going- that’s for sure, they were going- but where? Ned had apparently entered Canada a few miles ago, but where else?

“Who cares?” Ned responded to Peter, who had just asked the pertinent question. Gwen, who was in the passenger seat giggled to herself in excitement. Mary Jane Watson, who was seated across from Peter- Ned’s van was an interesting model, as the back seats were more like benches seated along the sides, and could seat three each. The way out of the van were the back doors, which swung out- gave an ‘of course’ look, which he breathed a laugh at. 

Ever since a team of six maniacs- Mysterio, Vulture, Green Goblin, Scorpion, Rhino and Electro- managed to plot against him and the Avengers, taking his lover, Michelle, Peter had felt… Empty, joyless and broken without Michelle’s absence. But Aunt May didn’t stand for his sadness and moping, and had actually asked Peter’s friends over. That day, May had told him that some friends were coming over before she left for… something, so he had made himself presentable and sat on the living room couch, only expecting Ned and his girlfriend but when he had opened the door…

Parker Apartment, July 2023

“Hey, tiger. Heard things’ve been rough, so I guess they’ve been rough for us both.,” It was Mary Jane Watson, a friend from his school that seemed the typical ‘popular girl’ to anyone that didn’t know her. Her face was gentle, freckled and concerned with an angled jaw sharp enough to cut glass. Her eyes almost glowed in the shade of their bright, cool blue. Her clothes were more slightly more conservative than the type she was usually seen in. A long sleeved purple shirt with a large, worn breast pocket, an olive jacket, a dark pair of jeans and a black pair of flats. Usually she could be found in deep, tight t-shirts, shorts and sandals but today she seemed a little more defended and… Almost introverted with the way her hands were tucked before her and the way her head was down. Her eyes seemed dark and red around the edges, like she had been crying a while ago.

“Hey MJ,” Peter said emptily, smiling as well as he could to her. He welcomed her inside, and she stood shrill for a moment. Peter walked her over to the couch and sat down an amicable distance away- not so far it seemed Peter hated her presence, but not so close as to make things awkward and uncomfortable. After a few minutes of serene, calm silence, MJ spoke, her voice gentle and slow.

“How have you been taking things, Pete?” She asked, not meeting his eyes. She stared at the hardwood floor, seemingly staring off into space. Her question hardly registered until her cerulean orbs met his of cinnamon. He stared at her, taking in her features for practically the first time before he realized she had asked him a question.

“Um, I… Heh, uh, not well,” He sighed lowly, licking his bottom lip. “I, uh, I haven’t really done anything since I… heard the news…” He whispered. Mary Jane nodded and looked down to her hands, which were fidgeting with each other. “You?” he asked.

Mary Jane laughed to herself. “Not well, either, really,” She sighed with a sad look on her face. “I know you loved her, and I know I loved her- she was just so...” She trailed off trying to find the best way to say what she wanted to.

“Easy to talk to?” Peter asked, smiling halfheartedly to the redhead beside him. Mary Jane looked to him with a sad  smile, nodding slowly..

Present, April 2024

And things had only grown more and more intense between them.

Peter shook off the memory as MJ shifted in her seat, readjusting her seat belt for what had to be the tenth time in the past half-hour. Her face seemed hard and uncomfortable. Mary Jane was a girl who liked to dance and move, and it had been a few hours spent in the van. Naturally, she would be getting antsy. Knowing Mary Jane would never bother someone unless it was extreme, Peter leaned over to her.

“D’you wanna get out an’ stretch a little?” He whispered. MJ looked to him in mild confusion, as if his question didn’t reach her mind. She quickly shook her head and responded with a quiet, ‘I’m good.’ Peter nodded and returned to a neutral sitting. Occasionally MJ would shift in her seat and rub her thighs, almost as if she was agitated. 

Ten or fifteen empty minutes passed before Peter’s spidey-senses suddenly went off. They weren’t panic-induced like usual, but it was… It was like a super-enhanced sense of smell. But it wasn’t the smell itself, it was more like the essence- no, not even that was right. However it worked or could be explained, Peter sensed something. Something alarming. He sensed urine. Fresh, recent urine. His senses were somewhat hard to discern due to the van’s intensely close proximity, but his signals were hazily pointing to…

Mary Jane?

Peter tried his best to keep a neutral expression and his eyes anywhere but MJ’s crotch. But eventually- as casually as he could- his eyes fell to the tightly-glued thighs. She wore a white pair of shorts and a tight light blue t-shirt, her toned, beautiful thighs squished together as she- apparently desperately- held her pee.

MJ had no expression on her face as she looked to the front seat of the van. But, as she noticed Peter’s stare and slightly widened eyes, a sly- almost sinful- smile crossed her face. Her top eyelids fell, generating a lusty look on Mary Jane’s beautiful face. With another discreet look to the driver, MJ slowly parted her quivering thighs- not only was she always eager to tease him with her tight, curvy body, they were both legal, consenting adults- he had turned nineteen a few weeks ago and MJ was a half-year younger, eighteen and half for about a month then- so they had become intimate. Obviously, Peter was well-acquainted with MJ’s crotch and what laid within. But what he saw covering her shorts shocked him and gave him the beginning tingle of an erection.

A small dark spot that brought the sense of urine to eleven. Peter’s breath hitched when a small glisten appeared from the spot, expanding it out marginally. MJ sucked her luscious lips in and tightened her thighs together again. Peter swallowed thickly as he realized what was going to happen soon.

“Hey, Ned, can we pull over soon?” He asked, his gaze never leaving his lover. “I… I gotta go, man,” Ned kindly agreed, doing his best to find an offbeat path from the road that now stretched into the middle of nowhere. Eventually, they hit a rough bumpy gravel road- Peter sensed more urine in the air, only increasing his arousal- until Ned found an offshoot that led into thick woods. Peter undid his seat belt, as did MJ- she grabbed her purse, no doubt containing a roll of toilet paper for this kind of situation- who Peter ushered to before him, and smiled, seeing he had saved her as a small dark spot was present on her ass, before he followed. The two hopped out of the van and headed into the nearby forest. They didn’t go too far in, only far enough so Ned and Gwen couldn’t see them.

“Hey MJ,” Peter asked as he turned away from his girlfriend to give her some privacy. She whimpered to let him know to ask his question. “Why did you… why'd you wait so long to tell me? Y’know, that you had to...” He asked. He wasn’t mad- he actually felt a little embarrassed for having such an erection at the beginning of her accident- Jesus, even calling it an ‘accident’ was turning him on now- but he still wanted to know why she was waiting to the end.

“Mm, Peter…” She moaned, “Look at me." She begged, her voice strained from holding. Peter slowly turned, only to see MJ with her hands between crossed thighs. The way her thighs spread over her hand made him physically lose breath. The dark spot was now larger, though still concealable if she tried. “I like it,” 

Peter stood there for at least thirty seconds, his jeans taut with a solid boner, as he absorbed Mary Jane’s words. ‘I like it.’ It kept echoing in his mind until Peter realized MJ was out of focus. 

“And… You do too, huh tiger?” She breathed, doubling over as tiny rivulets of warm urine flowed over her hand. She stemmed the flow quickly, but the smallest drop rolled down the face of her thigh. Peter could only swallow and nod as the mark grew, this time with a brief but stimulating gsh sound accompanying it. Two more lines of liquid flew down MJ’s thighs, one rolling around to the back of her deliciously defined calf.

“Good, because… Oh, no…” She whined, a false innocence and dread in her voice. There was the quietest of hissing sounds as the woman’s shorts suddenly burst with pee. MJ whimpered with a fake but convincing voice of worry and panic as urine ran over her hands, down her thighs and onto the hard dirt, rotting wood and pebbles that made up the Canadian soil. The small spot on the face of her shorts, as well as the seat, blew into a fully noticeable piss mark, and the tight white fabric held tight against her skin became slightly transparent as her hot urine flooded into and through it.

Mary Jane Watson also had no panties on whatsoever.

MJ smiled, sighing with relief as she wet herself in the middle of nowhere. Peter stood, his eyes the size of a building as his deepest-rooted, most insecure, absolutely despised and only fetish- girls wetting themselves- was performed by his girlfriend, unplanned and random. Peter was shocked, glued to the spot as his lover acted out what he had so desperately wanted to see in person for years, although he hated admitting it.

Mary Jane laughed through her relief and took her soaked hands from her thighs and opened her legs, allowing liquid to fall directly to the ground noisily. Remembering her absence of underwear, she took hold of the top band of her shorts and pulled them up further, causing the seam running between her nether lips to go between them, to which she moaned, loudly and genuinely before slapping her hand to her mouth to censor herself. Her piss now shot through her shorts and onto the ground, though the stream was slowly faltering. She felt her pussy throb as she released the waistband of her shorts, causing her pee to flow through them once again. 

It was forty-seconds until Mary Jane’s powerful accident reduced to a trickle, to which she finally brought down the waterlogged shorts. Indeed she was commando, as her fluffy red pubic hair proudly shouted.

Oh, and the reddened, relieved lips that sat underneath. "I didn't... I had a few... I thought you'd like..." She struggled speaking as her vagina slowly, constantly leaked, MJ's pelvic muscles too weakened from holding to stop her trickle in any regard.

Peter gasped and subconsciously palmed his erection through his pants when MJ’s opening was revealed. She smiled as flirtily as she could as her chest heaved with the absence of pressure. Her vagina finally ceased its flow, leaving MJ’s thighs and calves soaked with her warm pee. Her breathing slowly came back to her as her pussy beat with need, almost forcing her to mumble, 

“I think I had an accident…” Peter groaned in horniness when she moaned the most cliche, overused, hot lines for this breed of porn. He looked to her when he heard a squelch, watching with entrapment when MJ suddenly had two fingers inside herself. “Can you make me feel better, tiger?” She asked sweetly, staring exceedingly from under her thick lashes. Peter quickly undid his jeans and brought down the zipper before launching his underwear just far enough for his throbbing cock to be exposed. MJ panted with horniness and moaned with a smile, licking her oral lips and spreading her vaginal.

“Yes, yes I can.” He whispered confidently.

So, @Batman007, the first half of your request- yes, first half, a Laura Kinney chapter is promised after the 'Hela' request is finished- has been completed, and I hope I did right by such a classic character as Mary Jane. And if you want to request a character or situation, I'll do my best to do them justice as well. I have to preface, due to the three requests in the span of a few hours- I am not complaining, I love writing for you lovelies- the writing may take longer than usual, but I promise any and all requests received are added to a backlog, where I then complete each, one by one. Anyway, apologies for the long end note.

Best regards,

NothingLeft

Link to comment
On 5/16/2020 at 11:06 PM, Edward45 said:

Would you consider a bathroom line senerio that consists of all the woman from the A Force scene in Endgame?  ( ex Wasp , Captain Marvel , Shuri) .  I'd love to see how you write them all having to wait in line 

While a bathroom line would take longer than a solo for obvious reasons, I can surely add this to the queue. Consider it underway!

Link to comment

Hela

 

Success Party

Hela sat on a small loveseat with her boyfriend, Colonel James Rhodes, at an Avengers success celebration. They had eliminated a thick branch of assassins-for-hire- thanks to Natasha Romanoff single-handedly bringing down the biggest threat within the branch- and they could now focus on their own personal lives for a bit. Rhodey, who served on the Avengers as the ‘War Machine’ had faced off against seven men at once and had come out on top without a single mortar shell or bullet casing hitting the ground.

Needless to say, Hela was proud of her man.

She smiled at her boyfriend, who was casually sipping on a tube of champagne. The loveseat was relatively tight- so tight their hips were resting against each other- so Rhodey’s right arm ghosted above her bare shoulder. Both of their outfits fit in the crowd around them quite well, at least in the terms of liberation. Hela was dressed in a black, sleeveless deep-cleavage blouse with straps fallen off of her pale shoulders, a plain black skirt that just came above her knee and shiny black high heels. Her lustrous black hair shone in the welcoming, slightly orange tinge of light emanating from above. Rhodey was dressed in a fine yet casual cool-grey suit with a deep crimson tie. 

Hela toyed with her own glass of the bubbly liquid awkwardly- ever since the Queen of the Valkyries had re-blessed her as the daughter of Frigga, Hela had become even more human, but socialization in large numbers still made her slightly unnerved- she worried that someway, somehow her bloodlust would return, despite Odin’s death. Her lover had convinced her to come, and she was alright so far.

But when Rhodey’s finger brushed her back as he adjusted his sitting, all of her worries and anxiety seemed to go away.

It was odd, cliche-as-hell and nonsensical, but their shared history of traumas- Hela felt her false hand, courtesy of Tony Stark,  tingle at the thought of it- and general villainization. Hers, very rightly by the hands of her Asgardian followers and her family, and his, not only by the American public after he stormed a populated bunker in the Middle East seemingly without reason- though it was later revealed that the bunker was a munitions depot that had flown under his and Tony’s radars for almost fourteen years- but also the loss of his own legs, though the one that caused the injury dwelled on the Avengers still. Rhodey had told her it ‘was water under the bridge’, and she had restrained herself from...

Even for something as simple as restraint, Hela was proud of herself. She was slowly making up for her mistakes, and she was finally becoming human And her humanization was all thanks to… Rhodes.

Hela had no idea why or how she was so… comforted and assured by a Midgardian presence, but that didn’t stop it from happening. Rhodey’s hand, the one above her shoulder- finally rested itself on her far shoulder, and although she did her best to hide it, Hela sensed a feeling bubble up. ‘Feeling’ may not have even been the right word. It was more like an urge, a want hidden deep in her near immortal being.

For some indiscernible reason, Hela, former Goddess of Death… Wanted to be held. If a mere accidental brush could ward these feelings forwards, then she knew it would stay with her and would only grow stronger. She swallowed, moving her drink between hands for a few more minutes. Rhodey, with only a small glance in her direction, began moving his finger in soft circles on Hela’s soft shoulder, just like when she… She took her first life in her own ‘redeemed’ life. 

Hela had wept for hours, worried that her five years of work for forgiveness would all disappear. She thought, and truly believed that she had killed someone innocent, someone who didn’t deserve it. In reality, the criminal had been on record for thirteen homicide cases and the only reason she had killed him was in defense- dying, the man had pulled a gun on an armourless Tony Stark, Hela had summoned her Necroblade and stabbed the man through the heart. After that, Hela had convinced herself she was just as bad as she had been prior to Asgard’s destruction. And of everyone who told her it was a good move and it was the lesser of two evils, she didn’t believe anyone. 

Except for Rhodey. 

Her breath shuddered quietly as the feeling took on more weight. She looked to her lover with shiny, needing eyes, but when she tried to open her mouth to ask for his love, her tongue suddenly went dry. 

While she had done her best to atone for her centuries of bloodlust and slaughter in the past six years, she still had her dominance issues. Rhodey had made it clear to her that being strong and dominating was important and good in certain situations, but revenge- something Hela had often associated with strength and dominance- was definitely not a good idea, nine times out of ten. She had learned that almost a year ago...

May 2023, Battle For Earth

Valkyrie hit the ground hard as her pegasus whinnied from above, shaking a layer of ash from its right wing. Thanos’ ship was raining fire in the form of blue, glowing plasma missiles. Valkyrie looked around the battlefield, drawing her ‘Dragonfang’ in preparation for any of the monsters Thanos used in fighting. Around her she could spot the Starks, caught in a bevy of shots. Thor, Rogers and her lover Loki huddled together with Rogers' half-shield doing its best to keep them safe.

Valkyrie, swearing she could see down the mouth of one of the cannons even from so far away, threw her fluttering lapis-coloured cape over herself in a desperate move to shield herself. Vaguely, she heard Hulk roar far away. The ground was shaking almost as much as Valkyrie’s heart was beating, but she felt the ground speed up and get rougher as there was a cracking noise from the ship. 

Valkyrie peeked out from her cape as a thick black pillar, glowing a mysteriously familiar shade of green between its cracks, burst forth from the ground. The pillar jabbed through the belly of the ship as a fiery, yellow bolt pierced the left wing from above. The yellow bolt quickly reversed its momentum and cut through both the ship and the pillar. Like it was made of glass, the black tower shattered into thin, forearm-length fragments. Valkyrie heard a distant rocket-like sound as a gigantic, thick, dark red-and-blue-painted suit with a minigun on its shoulder blasted towards the crumbling pillar. When she looked closer, the Valkyrie realized…

No… She died! I WATCHED her die!

Hela, Goddess of Death- who had died nearly six years ago- was now plummeting to the Earth as Thanos’ ship exploded gloriously behind her. Rhodey, who was in the incredibly beefed-up War Machine suit, flew at his fastest capable speed toward her form as she tumbled and reached for the armoured man. Their arms nearly met so many times before Hela gained a sturdy grip and pulled herself into Rhodey’s arms.

What the Hell was happening?

|

“What the Hell is happening!” Valkyrie shouted, already red in the face. Loki, Thor, Sif, Rhodey and… her… were gathered around each other, reveling as much as their battered, bruised and bloodied bodies would permit- Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Hulk, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson and Clint Barton had managed to collect the Stones, each holding a certain Stone. They had snapped together, Hulk and Stark taking the brunt of the attack. Both had lived and were surrounded by friends and lovers. 

They all looked to Valkyrie as she unsheathed her sword, tackled Hela to the ground and directed the point of the Fang to her nemesis’ throat in a second. Valkyrie’s chest rose and fell erratically as Hela looked down the length of the blade. But not in the fearless, arrogant manner Valkyrie expected. She looked… Scared. Her seagreen eyes were wide and trained on the blue-silver blade at her pale, long, quivering jugular. The goddess’ breath became fast and short with quiet gasps and puffs of fear. Pure, unadulterated, raw fear. 

She suddenly moved- a defensive move, crossing her arms over her face- and Valkyrie swung her dagger with a deadly force in retaliation.

Hela’s hand, severed at the wrist, landed a few feet away. The Goddess made no noise- her powers made sure no blood was lost, but Hela passed out immediately from both shock and pain.

“Val!” Loki gasped, stealing the bloodied Dragonfang from Valkyrie’s grasp. He winced, as he had grabbed the blade, but switched his grip to hold it properly when his lover released it in shock.

“What’re you doing!” she growled, standing up to the God of Mischief. He held the blade out of her grasp- their near-foot height difference helping him greatly- as she stared at him almost murderously as she whispered, tears in the corners of her eyes- “She… murdered my sisters, my family… Why are you protecting her…”

“Because it wasn’t her fault!” Rhodey shouted, activating every possible weapon within the War Machine suit in a threatening gesture. He stepped between the Asgardians and his unconscious lover. When Valkyrie made no argument, Rhodey continued,

“It- her bloodlust- was Odin’s fault!” He shouted. He didn’t trust the Valkyrie- not anymore. Why hadn’t anyone told her Hela was on their side! Valkyrie gave a disbelieving look of bewilderment. Odin’s fault? While she didn’t agree with many of his methods and ideas, she didn’t at all believe Odin would put the good of Asgard at risk in such a detrimental manner.

“Odin’s fault?” She shouted incredulously. Thor sighed with irritation.

“Yes. My father… Before he married my mother, had me and… adopted Loki, he was with another mistress. That mistress gave birth to Hela, my sister. When my father’s mistress died in the Frost Giant War, he was left with only Hela, and together they conquered the Nine Realms. Hela was satisfied then, but when my father heard of a new woman to take as his Queen, he realized he couldn’t have a child with him- it would have looked bad, I suppose…” Thor trailed off, looking to Valkyrie. Her face was still angry, but she was indeed taking the story in. Rhodey picked Hela up , being careful with her arm. He kept every weapon trained on Valkyrie. Thor continued breaking the truth..

“He needed… an easy out. So, my father made a deal with…” He paused, looking away as he swallowed his own disbelief that he was truly speaking of Odin, his father. “With Death. He allowed her to… Take Hela’s will, and also offered her… an army to kill, in return for the favour of giving him a clean, righteous way to dispose of… Hela. He had Death tie the curse to Asgard, so when Ragnarok came...” He trailed off slowly.

Valkyrie felt like she was just stabbed in the stomach. Odin, without a thought, had promised to kill his best army, his best warriors, her family, just to impress a woman he lusted for, and so their union wouldn’t bring strife. She lost her balance from the nerve-withering shock- she would have fallen had Loki not dropped the Dragonfang and caught her. She couldn’t help it. She couldn’t stop it, even if she tried.

She threw up in shock.

Odin, the man she swore an oath to, had betrayed her and promised her death. The woman she had hated, had desired to kill for centuries-  more than a millennium, actually- was… Innocent? No, not entirely- Hell, Valkyrie had no remorse for stealing the woman’s hand, an eye for an eye-

But… Perhaps she was worthy.

Worthy of redemption. Not forgiveness, not even fucking close. It would take time and a shit-ton of convincing but… Maybe, just maybe.

Present

That.

Hela shook off the memory, the want to be held immediately taking its place. However, her shoulder had no touch on it, and Hela quickly looked to Rhodey’s seat, which was…

Empty.

Her anxiety immediately took over her mind. ‘Where’s Rhodey? He probably left. Had she been imagining the past few years? Where-

“I’m back, Hela,” Rhodey spoke calmly, retaking his seat beside her. Hela couldn’t help but place her hand over her chest and breathe a sigh. He gave her a look. “Are you good?” Hela nodded, putting her head in her hand. She felt silly now, of course he wouldn’t leave her. But anxiety wasn’t rational, and she hated it because.

“I thought… Never mind,” She sighed, and the look on his face only intensified as he furrowed his brow.

“Thought what?”

“I… Um, I remembered…” She flexed her false hand, though it gave no impression of it. Rhodey nodded in understanding. “And I… I thought…” She felt so silly for her anxiety taking over, even though it happened nearly every day. She trailed off, but Rhodey caught her meaning.

“Hey, look at me,” He softly said. Hela looked at him, a slight grimace in the creases of her eyes. He put his drink down on a small nearby table and took her real hand in his. “I will never leave you forever.” She smiled warmly, to which he returned. She shifted in her seat as the feeling from before grew stronger. Her hand tightened its grip on his. Her lips tightened as well, leaving Rhodey to ask another question.

“What’s wrong? Really?” Her heart quivered at his concern, but she struggled to say what she wanted to say. She was getting better at dominance and controlling her dominance, but she still struggled with the idea that she didn’t have to be dominant all the time. She struggled with seeming weak or small, but she was committed to helping that.

“I... “ She began. She had learned very early on that small steps were best for working through her issues. “Can you…” She was doing her best to come up with the best way to say it. 

Most clear is best.

“I… don’t feel comfortable.I’m okay being here… But, can you…” Rhodey nodded patiently. She smiled before looking through her lashes, embarrassed, and whispering “Can you please hold me?” Rhodey was taken aback, but he smiled at her cuteness. Yeah, she could come off as menacing or mean sometimes, but damn if she wasn’t cute right now. 

“Oh, come here,” He laughed. Hela smiled and pulled her feet onto the loveseat. She laid her torso on her lover’s legs as he sat back and her head rested on the puffy, pillowy armrest. Rhodey’s left hand quickly buried into her hair while the other was draped protectively over her stomach. She sighed contentedly as her feeling was happily sated. She suddenly felt her eyelids droop but fought to keep them open. She yawned quietly, her hand over her mouth.

“Are you tired?” Rhodey asked, rubbing the back of her head in a calming, almost lulling manner. She mumbled a yes but still fought her eyes open. Was this why she was needing to be held, because she was tired? Rhodey breathed a laugh before rubbing her clothed, lean belly.”Take a nap, baby,” He soothed. Hela felt a blush creep her cheeks at the use of a pet name, but she definitely liked it. It made her feel more… Human. It made her feel loved, and after learning what her father did, that’s all she really wanted anymore. As Rhodey stroked the back of her head, she felt her eyelids sneak closed.

An Hour and a Half Later…

Hela felt her shoulder get nudged, slowly waking her from her nap. Her eyes couldn’t adjust to the light at first, but the warm orange light eventually made the room clear. She felt Rhodey’s hand now caressing her jawline, and her insides felt warm and content. Hela stirred, attracting her lover’s attention.

“Welcome back, baby,” he purred. Hela giggled- in a high, adorable pitch- in her tired state. She twisted the top half of her body so her back was flat on Rhodey’s legs. She kept her legs down with her knees facing out due to, well, her skirt. Rhodey’s hand stayed on her belly, rubbing it softly. Hela breathed calmly and smiled. The party was still going on, meaning Hela wasn’t aware of how long she had slept.

But, suddenly, there was a warning that let her know it had been a good while.

Her bladder pulsed with need.

Her legs crossed underneath her skirt reflexively, but she didn’t get up. She knew she should- she was an adult, after all- but… Rhodey was so warm and made her feel so safe, both in the sense of her own safety and the safety of everyone around her. Sometimes, when she stopped and looked at her relationship with Rhodey, it seemed… Too close, almost like she couldn’t live without his presence. She seemed clingy and overbearing. But it didn’t stop her. Rhodey promised- absolutely promised- he would tell her if she was too overbearing, and she trusted him.

With her life.

Another roll of pressure fell against Hela’s organs. Her legs shifted uncomfortably and her face morphing with worry. Again, she knew she should go and, well… go, but she was just so warm and comfortable and calm.

“Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing her belly once more. The movement and sensation on her belly made the feeling of having to pee almost worse, but at the same time it felt so good. It was an odd mixture that she wasn't accustomed to, but she was so partial to the ‘good’ side that the ‘need’ was beginning to feel like less and less. 

You dumbass, you’re going to piss yourself!’ Her rational mind shouted. But her mushy, lovey mind responded, ’I know, but he’s so warm and kind and I love him so much.’ Hela eventually sided with her rational mind- and also realized Rhodey was staring at her like he had asked her something. She nodded slowly and rose, her bladder pinching with need.

“What's the matter, baby?” He asked, his hand rubbing her back gently. Hela flipped her legs over the edge of the couch- flinching when her bladder bit her insides again. The use of her pet name appealed so much to her loving side that her rational side was practically silenced, even if just for a moment. She threw her arms around her lover, catching him off-guard. “Seriously, are you okay?”

Hela nodded and smiled, nestling her head in Rhodey’s shoulder. Her bladder was beginning to feel heavier and heavier as a warning shiver bounced up her spine. She separated from her lover and rose, smoothing out the wrinkles and ruffles in her skirt over her long, slender, beautifully defined legs. She looked around the large hall in an attempt to find the washrooms. She found some of the other Avengers- she picked out Tony, Natasha, Bruce, Sam and Peggy- but no, no bathrooms were anywhere in plain sight.

“Damn…” Hela sighed, slyly crossing her legs with a sharp click of her heels. Rhodey saw her do this and had been around her long enough to know what she was doing. He rose alongside her and tried to find the washrooms. Hela groaned in slight pain and subtly held her bladder before Rhodey pointed out a sign with a few symbols. One was a stick figure with a floating circle above it, with a black bar between it and another stick figure, this one with a triangle growing from its hips.

“There,” He pointed. Hela smiled in relief and kissed Rhodey cheek before making her way towards the room. As he sat back down, Rhodey had a hard time taking his eyes off of his lover’s ass. The way her legs moved it and the way it bounced with her quick steps was hypnotizing. He grinned scantily when Hela’s gaze met his with a sly smile, though she didn’t halt.

Hela smiled to herself, knowing the effect her rear end always had on Rhodey. While it wasn’t particularly large, it was defined, strong and firm. And from the way he always gripped and massaged it whenever possible, she knew something similar would be happening when she returned. Hela followed the sign marked ‘Bathrooms’. There was a break in the wall at the sign which led to a small, short hallway. Two doors rested inside, one labelled ‘Men’ and the other labelled ‘Women’. However, as Hela got closer, she realized they both had a similar yellow sign posted upon them that drained all hope from Hela’s desperate body.

‘Out Of Service’

“Out… Of service?” Her voice was higher than usual from both her increasing pee desperation and her similarly increasing dread. Her luscious legs were now across each other again- her need had apparently more than she originally suspected- and-,after peering behind her to make sure no one was watching, Hela did her best to hold herself despite her tight skirt. She groaned to herself quietly before she suddenly sensed a presence behind her. She quickly whipped around- despairing as a tense spurt of pee escaped into her taut dark green panties. It was Valkyrie, dressed in a pristinely white, curve-hugging dress. Her dark chocolate hair was shining perfectly in the soft light and her light caramel skin appeared soft and supple. Her face was brushed with the lightest dabbles of makeup and a strong, pretty pink shade of lipstick. Her stance seemed rigid and forced, as did her smile. She was obviously facing the same issue she was.

“Hey, are they…” She trailed off as she read the sign on the female bathroom door. “No, come on, what the Hell…” Valkyrie sighed and bent over, pressing her hands against her bladder doing her obvious best to hold her accident in. “God, it hurts…” She whined, gritting her teeth. Hela sympathized with the other woman as she massaged her own bladder. Hela bit her lip when she read the sign again, reaching her limp hand down to stroke her thigh in an attempt to hold herself.

Both Valkyrie and herself stood into a publicly decent figure- still rigid from their holding. Rhodey- Hela felt a smile cross her face despite her pain- came to the hall, a worried expression across his face.

“Are you good, Hela?” He asked, both ladies accidentally blocking the ‘Out Of Service’ sign from his gaze. Valkyrie stayed quiet, but Hela fell forward, crossing her legs and doing her desperate best to usher her tight, unstretching skirt against her near-bursting crotch. 

“No…” She moaned, looking to the yellow sign on the door between her and Valkyrie. At the rereading of the sign, Valkyrie's shaky ‘decent’ facade collapsed, and she grabbed herself as well, swaying on her heels to distract herself. Rhodey also read the sign, his face morphing into one of angered confusion. 

“What- why throw a party with drinks if…” He trailed off and sighed, approaching the opening of the hallway and looking towards the main exit. Thor, Loki and Sif- who was wrapped in her lover’s cape- were all talking amongst each other near the exit. Rhodey approached Loki and pulled him aside, most likely to tell him of his girlfriend’s problem. Loki did in fact look over to the hall in concern and slight anger- not at Valkyrie herself, but at the fact that the washrooms were out of order. He then nodded to Rhodey and the two made their way over to the washroom hallway. Loki pulled a small, glowing blue cube out of his coat pocket, curved around Valkyrie’s side and- in a blink- the two disappeared in a flash of blue and a cloud of black. Hela remained desperate as Rhodey shook his head in confusion.

“How bad is it?” Rhodey asked to regain his focus, placing his hands on her bare shoulders. Hela shuddered, both from his touch and her need to pee, but she couldn’t form words anymore. Her bladder felt like it was stabbing her over and over as it pushed on her other organs. Her tight shirt compressed the full organ more, only increasing her pain. Her legs were mashed together as hard as they could possibly be, her hands were jamming both her skirt and themselves into her crotch to delay the inevitable and her face was contorted in a mixture of shame, pain, desperation and pure, unbridled tenacity, though it was useless to possess at the moment.

“Look, I don’t… I don’t think there’s anything else around here,” Hela whimpered in unfortunate agreement, her face scrunched and red from pressure. “If we can find somewhere more… I don’t know, more private, maybe you should just… Let go,” Hela cried out at the mention of relief, her bladder screaming in agreement. “It hurts… I can see it.” Rhodey finished. Hela muttered a pained, breathy plea.

“It hurts so much… I want to- I can’t, I-I-I can’t,” She whimpered, bouncing on her heels. Rhodey kept her steady with a hand on her shoulder and a gentle grip on her sharp chin. “I can’t do it, but it… hurts, so bad!” She cried, tears welling in the bottoms of her eyes. Rhodey aimed her eyes into his and gently led her against the wall, his hand snaking around to the small of her back. Hers still stayed glued to her crotch in sheerly false hope, at this point.

“Please, baby, for me. Stop hurting yourself,” He begged, rubbing her back. Hela whimpered at his line. Her thighs were beginning to ache and tire, and she knew she couldn't hold on for much longer at all.

“But it’s so gross, and it’s not… It’s not okay…” She cried as a tear rolled down her cheek. Rhodey quickly ducked in and kissed it away, bringing her seagreen eyes to meet his chestnut eyes.

“Look at me. This isn’t your fault, and I won’t think of you any different. Please, Hela, let go,” He whispered, taking a gentle grasp on her hip. His lover let a few more tears roll down, and with each one he ducked in and stole them away with kisses. There was a few moments of silence before Hela, with a breaking voice, whispered,

“No… no, no, nononono!” She whispered shrilly, tears now slowly flowing down her face. Her voice was breaking and, as Rhodey realized what was happening, there was a noise.

Psssss.

Hela felt the warmth before she felt the wet. The natural heat of her groin suddenly increased, like a fire had started between her legs. It was then that she felt… Wet. A small stream of running urine passed neatly through her everest panties, soaked into and through her black skirt and finally stained her hands with wetness. The more she tried to resist the flow, the more her weakened muscles failed to hold. The stream slowly began picking up power and speed, all while Hela gently began sobbing to her boyfriend, who whispered sweetly into her ear. The quiet, gentle sss evolved into a shhh as the running piss blew through all her defenses, her panties now stained a further dark shade of burnt grass. Hela’s urethra only seemed to grow in width as an impossible amount of liquid began flowing out of her and into her clothes, onto her hands and legs as well as onto the floor. 

There was a quiet tktktktk against the tile below her before it quickly morphed into a small, constant pattering that quickly turned into a noisy splashing, like a slow faucet into an overflowing cup. Hela took her hands away from her crotch in disgust, only sobbing more despondently when her stream became more powerful. There was a shiny wet stain on both the front and back of her skirt, only fueling her shame. Hela, deep down, felt relief in her bladder’s incredible lightening, but it was sealed under layers of shame, disappointment, hurt and sadness. How could she let this happen? This was not what adults did! This was something children did, fools did.

What more was she, than a fool in the current moment?

She was standing, not two feet from a bathroom, pissing herself like a small child that had forgotten where the bathroom was due to its tiny mind! Her boyfriend held while she not only pissed her panties, but also cried into his shoulder. She felt horrible inside, like she had failed the legacy of the last six years with a single accident. 

Rhodey’s heart tore a small bit more with every pained sob he heard over the splashing and hissing, but still he held on. Hela’s urethra sputtered hellaciously when she tried to stop her flow, though it had almost given out from the pain. Her beautiful, soaked legs quivered from the pressure and shame her vagina was spewing, but Rhodey kept her standing. 

They stood there, Hela wetting herself with unfortunately and unwillingly reckless abandon as her lover comforted her, for almost a full minute before Hela felt her skin crawl, her pee beginning to lessen its spout. This time, Hela’s legs truly did give out from under her and she fell against a wall, sinking into a soaking, warm seat in her shame. Tears freely flowed, only breathy gasps and moans of combined shame and relief as her bladder still slowly gushed what was left of its contents. There were ripples of new liquid for far too long until Hela felt her torture finally end. She finally felt her bladder ache with emptiness and relief, though she couldn't feel it through her embarrassment. 

There was only the sound of Hela’s soft weeping and breathy gasps alongside small splishes in her puddle of shame. The puddle was still warm, and it carried the slightest tint of gold with it. Rhodey was very careful as he spoke, acknowledging the precarious state his lover’s psyche was  in.

“Is that… better?” He warranted, making sure to be so, so careful. Through her silent moans and cries, Hela nodded reluctantly. She felt horrible that she had allowed this to happen- like she was melting with shame and disappointment in herself- but she also felt the relieving sensation of an empty bladder, like popping a balloon that had been in her guts.

“I’m… I-I’m sorry, Rho-”

“No, no. You have nothing to apologize for, you did your best to hold it,” He stopped her, looking into her red, swollen eyes. “You did your best, and I’m so proud of you.” Hela felt more tears well up, but this time they were ones of warmhearted happiness. She had done her best, despite her accident. “You did so good, and it must have felt so good to finally get that out,” Rhodey smiled, Hela giving a shaky one of her own back. She still sat in her puddle, though it had long gone cold. Her vagina had not, though, still warm and wet. She rubbed her thighs together to regain feeling as Rhodey stood up before her, offering his hand to her.

“Hey, I saw your… um, accident,” An accented voice commented from beside them. Hela’s face immediately drained of colour and  Rhodey turned to cave their head in, only to see Sif, still wrapped in Thor’s blood-shaded cape. She had a gentle face on and a sympathetic voice.

“Well, you’re not alone,” Sif whispered with a giddy smile, parting Thor’s cape for a moment. Truly, there was the clear sign of an accident on Sif’s clothes- the crotch of her light grey leggings were dark, as were the insides of her toned, tight thighs. “Guess they didn’t think too far into this, huh?” She giggled to herself, hiding her accident again. “‘Least you’re wearing black,” she commented amicably before returning to Thor.

“I guess she’s right, at least you have black on,” Rhodey commented. Hela laughed shakily, the tears and trauma still present despite the sympathy. She rolled her head from one shoulder to another in a ‘well, I guess’ manner.

“Not entirely,” Hela sighed scratchily. Before Rhodey could ask her to elaborate, Hela inched her soaked, darkened panties down her thighs though her skirt. When they passed the widest point, gravity resumed her job, and a wet, dark mass suddenly splashed cold, vaguely amber liquid onto Hela’s ankles with an unceremonious spap. She also pulled her arms over the straps of her shirt before pulling the shirt down, revealing her matching bra. She skillfully undid it, allowing it to fall into Rhodey's grasp. Her dark areolas and perfectly soft nipples hit the air, hardening somewhat before she put her shirt back on. She stepped out of her soaked, warm panties and back into the main room, staying close to Sif.

Rhodey smiled. He knew she was using her scantiness as a stalling tactic to consider what had truly just happened, but he couldn't argue, as the pee-soaked fabric of her skirt stuck to her taut, firm ass even more than before.

“Hell of a woman,” Rhodey sighed, smiling at his shivering lover.

So, @diokno44x, I grant you your requested 'Hela' piece. This is not only the longest piece I've written so far, it was also the most challenging, as I had to build an entirely new background for this 'Redeemed Hela'. If you like my take on the character, or if you'd prefer a more Thor: Ragnarok-accurate depiction, please let me know for all future 'Hela' pieces- and if both are appealing, then please request whether you would like Redeemed Hela or Film Hela, for all future eponymous requests. Feel free to request any other character from the first post's list, as well as a situation- if you so desire. I should also say you are welcome to suggest only situations if you are indifferent of the character it's applied to.

Best regards,

NothingLeft

Link to comment

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.
Note: Your post will require moderator approval before it will be visible.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

  • Recently Browsing   0 members

    • No registered users viewing this page.

×
×
  • Create New...