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Hey! Decided to break up the monotony and try my hand at drabble writing for a bit. It sorta spiraled into making a one-shot (two-shot?) for myself, helping build up a new collection of LitRPG short stories (that's those fantasy works with all the RPG stats! Think Sword Art Online... please don't think about that in my presence...). I'll get back onto Ichigo Sunada & Her Downward Spire real soon, just wanted to do something different as a reward for all the page views, hits, likes and comments I've been getting all around!

Without further ado, here's the first part to Gut Check! Part II with come soon enough (the part with the diaper content), but for now, humor this tale for a bit.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Tick. Tick. Tick.

 

The ticking of the classroom clock lulls a sleepy daemonette into the dream world. Her teacher has been prattling on, stuttering every other word or so, boring the devil girl to tears. She would occupy herself, tap on her desk, flip through her tome, maybe even throw a paper ball at her anxious captor, anything to make her day faster, were it not for her “uniform”. The aggravating thing has been the bane of her restless mind and arms ever since coming to this academy. Forced upon her for her “poor behavior” at registration, ha! Maybe if they didn’t tried to register her in the first place, she wouldn’t be stuck in a straitjacket all day, and they wouldn’t have suffered some slash marks!

 

Tick. Tick. Tick.

 

Reminiscing isn’t like Sasha. Albeit, she’s not really sure what IS she’s supposed to be like. She’s been “free” from the “Dark Goddess” for not long, lost her connection from the Dark for… sometime? Since then, she’s grown wild blue hair her quartermaster ties into a long ponytail every weekend or so. Her many sharp teeth fell out, leaving only 2 stubby fangs on the top row of her teeth, more akin to the beastkin’s. She still as puny as she ever was, barely taller than her fairy classmates. Not as short and stout as they are, but enough that she has to stand on her new tippy-toes, the weird human-like feet that have long replaced her old sharp claws, just to make sure she can lord her height advantage over her “new friends”. Maybe even raise her triangle-shaped, spiky ears, located on the sides of her chubby-cheeked head. Every inch counts if she wants to even imagine her classmates still fear her.

But no one does. No one fears the Diablo nowadays. Sure, the populace still take some safety precautions, if her “uniform” is anything to take in mind, but it's not like the old days, where she preyed on those foolish enough to walk about the eternal night without an adventurer. Kin of the Dark Goddess, forged from her everlasting chaos. Back then, she wasn’t even a she! Sasha was without name, without thought, without form, all function. Her purpose was to serve her lady, slay those that could pose a threat to her kin, the eternal night, and her mother. And every one was a threat to their existence.

But that was then, this is now. Now she’s “pure”, “free” from her corrupter. She has a form, much like an elf, with only a few extra bits to remind her of what she once was. Her captors like to call them devil kids, sometimes Nightkin, much less intimidating than the Diablo. She has an identity, Sasha, to make her equal among her new peers, complete with stats, inventory, her likes and dislikes, everything that lets everyone know she is a part of the “Adventuring Program”. She has thought, to make her feel guilty about those times, the people she’d harm, instead of proud… And she has her own will, her own needs, her own wants. Her own drive to find a purpose.

Cause else, she would do what she does every weekend every day: sulk about not having a purpose without her mother.

Sasha sighs… Reminiscing isn’t like her. She’s trying to do what her “teacher” loves to stutter towards her class “L-live for the n-n-now! Be there for the n-n-next ‘morrow! And be happy for when you get there!” She loves to laugh every time the professor botches her rally cry, her inexperience at doing… everything in regards to motivational speaking, not to mention teaching is obvious, even to her. But it does sound like decent advice, or at least she’s said it enough that it's starting to sink into her brain. She would love to turn back the clocks, join her kin in stopping the heroines from storming her mother’s home and sealing her away. But she would more than likely end up on the wrong side of their blades, probably be sealed in with her. At least she would turn back and stop whomever brought her to the Four Goddess’ Institute of Serpha, stop them from freeing her from her dormant, stone-like state. At least then, she wouldn’t have to wake up every day for adventuring classes, wouldn’t be stuck in some island she has no clue is even in, wouldn’t even know what “Serpha” is or what do these people want with what’s inside her.

Wouldn’t know about the fate that belie her mother and her kin.

Tick. Tick. "Sniff. Sniff." Tick. Tick.

“Hmm? Miss Guinea, Sasha’s crying again!”
“What’s that, Felix? Sasha, darling!”

Tattletale. Her next-desk-classmate, apparently another Nightkin like her, is always like this. She’s such a suck up to these people, has to be because her “mother” is one of the heroines that was responsible for sealing her real mother away. Her indigo, ringlet-curled hair, chubby build, curly tail, she’s the epitome of “soft”. Doubly so, since she gets to walk into class every day with what appears to be footie-pajamas of a wolf as part as her “uniform”, though she at least gets to keep her arms free. There isn’t a day Sasha gets to see the girl without it, it has to be some privilege of her “new kin”. Her “family”.

“Sasha, dear, what’s wrong?”

Some fools would say that they look like sisters, and perhaps there was once a time they were. But now, they come from two different worlds. This academy, this prison, this is all Sasha knew. A bunch of hands, all poking, prodding, needling, studying, renaming, reconstructing her, all in wonder what makes her tick. And all Felix knew is what life being some spoiled brat, barely even a Diablo. She’s a traitor, she acts like she never even met Mother. She never felt her warm embrace, never had her watchful gaze guiding her, never been told that she will always protect them, even if no one else does.

She never had that. And she will never get that.

And neither will Sasha. Ever again…

 

“Sasha, please… No more tears.”

Sasha finds herself in the tight embrace of her teacher. Tears were running down her face and onto her teacher’s smock. How hard was she crying? Her eyes feel raw, snot is rolling down her face, her throat feels hoarse. She’s still trying to get a hold on these “emotions”. She never had to worry about being sad or angry or even happy back then. All she had to be was obedient to Mother.

Now she has to take care of herself. Let others take care of her. If she doesn’t, she’ll waste away in her own despair.

Miss Guinea takes her out her desk seat and holds Sasha’s head into herself, rubbing it tenderly. Despite being taller than the young woman, her thin body appears to be dwarfed by her head. The teacher kneels down to Sasha’s level, letting the nightkin see her own reflection in her caretaker’s thick glasses. She can see how the red triangle markings on her face are drowning in her tears. She feels so disgusted with herself, on so many levels. Miss Guinea takes some tissues out of her smock and begins to wipe the wetworks away, given that the straitjacket is preventing her from doing it herself.

“Bad memories, again, Sasha?” the teacher asks. Her short, dirty blonde hair, thick glasses, frail frame, and nervous demeanor belie her caretaking abilities. With a tight hug and a rustle of her hair, she calms down the nightkin’s burgeoning outburst.

“-Sniff- It was nothing… I was just… I don’t know... It didn’t matter, I felt…,” Sasha stutters through. She struggles to find the right word, she isn’t even sure how, why, or what she feels. Something within her felt like crying, and she couldn’t deny it any longer.

“Hey, hey, it's all fine. Sometimes you feel sad, and that’s okay.” Guinevere Guinea releases her hold and turns her attention to Felix. “Okay, class, why don’t we take a short break? The night is young, and… I could use more coffee.”

Calling this place a class is demeaning to the both of the girls residing in it. The class only has a few members, and most of them aren’t even in at the moment. Felix and Sasha take a special night class, to make up for the time they spend away from the morning ones. The institute do most of their research on the two during that time, leaving their lesson time rather limited without these night classes. No matter the reason, however, this isn’t a class. It barely counts as personal tutoring sessions.

Sasha, having recovered from her breakdown, stares towards the windows of the classroom. The night wind howls as a winter storm blows over the institute, snow piling up in the courtyard. Part of her wants to open the window, dive head first into the white blankets, and frolic throughout the snow, feeling nostalgic for the old, wild days of her “youth”. Feel the biting breeze between her thighs and knees, the cold catch on her sharp claws-now-nails, be free from the warm heating of the class, free in general. She knows that now, without the darkness protecting her, her human-like body would freeze over, be turned into an ice-cube in a matter of minutes, in her current uniform, and that’s assuming she’ll survive the five-story drop. But to feel the outside again, after being stuck inside this borderline prison all year, to Sasha, it would be worth it.

While Miss Guinea is preoccupied boiling another pot of coffee and Felix doing… whatever she does with her constant scribbling in her notebook, Sasha goes up and press her cheeks and tail against the window. It’s refreshing, nostalgic, empowering even. She feels filled with various emotions, each one slowly-but-surely pulling back her lips into a smile…

It doesn’t last, however, as another sensation begins to fill another place of hers. She begins to brush her thighs against each other, sliding her tail in between them. Sasha tends to ignore a lot of what the institute teaches her about her new form, leaving her ignorant of important issues, such as her fragility, the effects of the Serpha inside her, and most urgently, her needs. The frosty window, the dripping of the coffee percolator, the slight amount of tears still on her face. It all reminding her of that peculiar feeling betwixt her thighs, a hefty pressure that begins to ail her. She tries to prance in the spot, shift that weight to another spot, but all it does is slosh it up and down her midsection.

It takes a good deal of jostling, both in her brain and inside her lower quadrants, to remind herself of which need she’s suffering from: the need to use a bathroom.

“Urgh…,” she moans. She whips her tail around herself, trying to squeeze around her stomach. It’s an annoying need, one her “pure” body constantly suffers from. Apparently all girls like her suffer from this, needing to stop what they are doing and release what the institute calls their “holy water” into a container. They frown upon “doing their business”, as some of her “peers” would call it, outside of these designated rooms and containers. It’s “unruly”, it’s “unsanitary”, it attracts wild beasts and monsters, so on and so forth. Constant lectures about the vessel they trapped her wild soul in is the reason why she started blocking out their natter in the first place.

“Miss Guinea? Can I… you know…?” begins to ask Sasha, trying to remember the right procedure for this.

The teacher sips her cup of coffee, loudly enough for Sasha to wince at the image of fluids moving from place to place. “Hm? Sasha, you are asking me something?”

“That thing… that… you know…? Thing humans do…?” she says, prancing on the spot. She knows this emotion she’s feeling at the moment: embarrassment. She still doesn’t have a good control on that, or even her bladder at the moment, she feels it pressing against the taut straitjacket.

“Speak up, Sasha, you know I don’t have the best hearing.” Guinea tilts her ear towards the ailing girl, wanting to understand her better. She takes another sip, feeling like she needs every bit of energy to get through this long night. She sees out the corner of her eye Sasha stopping her dance, wrapping herself tighter with her thin, waxy black tail. She sees the demon girl resume her hopping, faster now.

“That… That… Errgh!” Sasha’s frustration at being unable to voice herself isn’t helping her in the slightest. As she heats up, the pressure within builds up. She feels like each step she makes is starting to press more and more. “That thing…! That… that…! Why can’t I remember…?!”

“Easy, Sasha. Just take a deep breath, take your time.” Miss Guinea inhales, pushing her barren chest up. She rolls her hand, asking the girl to mimic her actions.

“Errgghh…,” groans Sasha. What is it in that’s in the air that makes mortals like her teacher so addicted to it? She stops her prancing again, trying to follow her teacher’s guidance. Inhale…

 

Exhale…

 

It isn’t much help, the additional air pressure is causing more grief than tranquility. “Can I go do that…?” Her brief respite did give her a little more understanding as to her awkward muteness. The feeling of embarrassment, having to ask a mortal to let her excuse herself and deal with her needs, is much too great for herself. She’s still struggling to understand that she needs to constantly capitulate herself to others, people that aren’t her mother. The additional frustration is doing her bladder no favors, it's starting to feel hot and heavy, two of her least favorite feelings.

Miss Guinea cracks a sly smile behind her coffee mug. She doesn’t take a sip, knowing that it won’t help her student feel well. This isn’t the first time Sasha has forgotten her training.

Felix looks up, raising her hand. “Oh! I think Sasha needs to--”

“Now, now, Felix,” Guinevere says, settling her feisty Felix. “Let Sasha do this herself.” She chuckles to herself, happy to see that one of her girls desires to help another.

Sasha twitches her right eye, turning its iris from black to crimson. “Don’t mock me! It’s your fault I’m like this!” She stomps, rattling her entire body. A few heavy drops of holy water seeps into her white briefs, staining it yellow. “Agh!”

“Sorry, Sasha! I didn’t mean it like that!” worries Guinevere. Maybe she shouldn’t be practicing her teaching skills in this type of live-fire exercise. Still, the girl has some serious issues with the authority of the institute. As much as she would hate to be on the receiving end of her ire, especially as a newbie teacher, she does need to help her work through her distrust of everyone here if she is going to become, if not a helpful Jr. Adventurer, at least less of a hassle for her co-workers. “Here, I’ll walk you through it, okay?”

“Fine! Just make this stop…!”
“Can I?”
“Can I…!”
“Go to?”
“G-go toOOooo…”
“The bathroom?”
“b-b-b-bath—baaathhhhroooOoooOomm!?”

Even Miss Guinea had to wince in secondhand embarrassment and pain. Holding her mug, she walks over and pets Sasha on the head. “Come on, then. Give me your tail and let’s go. You too, Felix, really can’t leave you girls alone.”

“Yes, Miss Guinea! Ooh!” Felix wags her fluffy pajama tail, excited waving her hand. “Can I have some of your coffee!? Can I? Please, I’m sleepy, like you, Teacher Guinea!”

Guinevere snickers some more. Hard to believe the girl only came into her hands a season ago, still clinging to her mother. Now she’s clinging onto her, and she can’t say she hates it. “Kehaha, sure, dear. Now hurry up, else I’m making you clean up after Sasha.”

Giving the mug to Felix, Miss Guinea grabs her flashlight and escorts the two girls out the class and into the hallways. She peeks around the corners, making sure there are no ne’er-do-wells prowling the halls. She never really like being in the night-shift. It may feed her coffee addiction (took LOTS of arguing on her behalf to authorize that coffee machine in her classroom), but it doesn’t make her feel any safer in this institute, especially once they turn off the lights . She’s on a high floor, away from the other night classes. It’s eerie, the blustering winter winds contribute in making the building feel more and more haunted. She can’t help but let her mind wander, think about the students slumbering in their dorms, the ones being tested, prodded, and experimented on, the ones out there in the field, facing horrid monsters in this winter weather. And here she is, afraid of her own workpl--!

“Move, Guinea! Go!” shouts Sasha, pushing her teacher on her behind!
“Yip! Sorry!”
Felix pouts. “Hey, no bullying Miss Guinea!” she demands.
“I won’t have to if she would keep to her word and mooOOOoove!”
“Sasha, no running! Or pushing!”

The trio gets moving. Sasha can feel a couple more drops beginning to graze her briefs as she darts through the halls. The cold, unheated hallways would normally be refreshing to the girl, but at the moment they are only sapping her strength, making it harder and harder for her thighs to do all the legwork in keeping her from spilling over. She’s kind of afraid to check her stats, see exactly how full she is at the moment. She at least knows that the Serpha inside her can give her keen knowledge in all her conditions and ailments, see the data. But what would be a benefit will only be an additional mental anguish on an overwhelming physical pain.

Sasha picks up her speed, the flopping of her school thigh-highs echoing through the hallways. She’s dragging Miss Guinea behind, still gripping onto her tail with all her (lack of) might. Felix trails behind, constantly taking sips of Miss Guinea’s coffee in between keeping lock-n’-step of her compatriots.

“Sasha!” cries her teacher, really glad she didn’t hold onto her coffee.
“What!?”
“You’ve missed the bathroom, it's behind there!”

Whoops. Sasha comes to a skirting stop, reversing her steps ‘til she arrives back to where the chestnut door of the bathroom is. Not her fault all the doors of the school look the same, or how it's night, so she can’t see the signs.

“Yay! We made it,” cheers Felix.
“Yeah, woo!” Sasha halfheartedly cheers along. “Open the door already, Guinea, I’m gonna burst!”
“R-r-right.”

As Guinevere goes to grab the door, the trio begin to here footsteps. A constant click, click, click echo around the corner of the hallway perpendicular of the one they are in. The trio freezes. Who could be here, at this time?

Out comes a lanky woman, one with gray hair. She looks aged, not quite like wine, not quite like a bread. Her plaid jacket and skirt only makes her look older and more intimidating, it being the kind of plaid you wear when you wish to torture the eyes of another. Her stern demeanor pierces through the night, locking dead-on with poor Guinevere.

“Miss Guinea, what exactly are you doing out at this time?” interrogates the cross disciplinarian.

“S-sorry, Mrs. Einsfields!” cries the scared teacher. She can’t help but cower in the face of her boss, the principal of the institute. “I-I was just--”

“You know that it isn’t the time to be letting the students out. Just because there’s a damn blizzard out there, doesn’t mean you can let them be hooligans!”

“S-s-sorry! I was just letting them go to the bathroom, I swear!”

“You of all people should know we have procedures on how and WHEN we let students out of the class. Did you even let anyone know, who authorize you to leave class?!”

“I thought that no one would answer, it's late and I thought everyone have left, especially before the blizzard came.”

“Well you thought wrong. Now shoo!”

“Hang on, we have--”

“Shoo, go back to your class and actually follow procedure, Miss Guinea!”

The hostile tone immediately silences Guinevere. The will to argue have left as she begins to robotically and silently take back her students back to class.

“No!” cries Sasha, not going to be denied her relief. She pulls her tail out of her teacher’s grip, turning to the headmistress in anger. “I’m going to the bathroom! I can’t hold it!”

The headmistress stares down towards the little runt, challenging her authority. “Oh, I know you. I can still feel your teeth marks on my legs. I see how Miss Guinea was threatened into disobeying procedure now.”

“Shut it! Moving!”

The headmistress blocks the door. “Oh, you can hold it ‘til your teacher preforms the proper procedure!”

“But I can’t!”

“I beg to differ.”

With two fingers, Moldra Einsfield taps Sasha’s forehead. The daemon takes a step back as a screen shows up in between the two.

 

<Name: Sasha X>
<Ancestry: Nightkin>

...

 

Rolling her eyes and using the same two fingers, Moldra slides through a few additional screen, taking little care in invading Sasha’s private info.

 

<Needs>

<Current Bladder: 83%>

...

 

“...You are fine, you can hold it ‘til Guinevere does what she has been told. Now go, Sasha,” demands the headmistress.

Sasha can’t help but feel violated in many respects. Her privacy, her personal space, her pride, her authority, her agency. She feels angry, she knows the headmistress is doing this out of some sick sense of revenge. Whatever fear she was feeling in front of the headmistress, it is quickly replaced with a well-brewed rage.

“Aaaarrggghhh!” Sasha charges headfirst, catching Mrs. Einsfield off-guard! She slams straight into the headmistress, knocking her into the door and the wind out the both of them! The both hit the floor, dazed and confused! Guinevere and Felix can only watch in shock at the scene, not believing the assault that is happening.

Sasha’s youthful vigor and pain on her bladder gets her back up standing first. She pushes Moldra aside with her feet as she ties her tail around the handle of the door. She flings it open, charging into the bathroom, managing to slam her tail straight in between the crack!

“AHHHHHHH!” she cries! The pain makes her let loose a great spill straight into her briefs, pushing its limits in a second! Urine starts to flow straight down her plush thighs as she tries to free her tail!

COUGH COUGH, GASP!!” Moldra coughs and wheezes, catching her breath. “Sasha!” she shouts hoarsely, still on her knees. “Sasha!! You get out here, you—cough cough, hrk!--cretin!”

“No! No! NO!” Sasha doesn’t know if she’s denying the headmistress’ orders or her loosening control. She squeezes her tail through the crack, sore and inflamed with pain. She doesn’t have the time to care for her tail, she needs to go! Finding an open stall, she has to fight her own glee if she doesn’t want to lose control on the spot!

But as she shoulder bash her way in, she comes to an unfortunate realization: she’s still straitjacketed! She can’t slide out of her clothes! This was a battle she already lost the moment Miss Guinea gave up and tried to take her back! If she listened to the headmistress, it would have sucked, it would have hurt, but she could have probably hold it! Now she made an ass of herself in so many ways!

But if she did listened, she wouldn’t have gotten to headbutt her! Plus, it’s their fault for making arbitrary rules in regards to where she can and can’t pee! And it’s not over yet! Her clothes would be ruined, but no one can say she peed anywhere else but where they ordered her too! Plus she never liked the black skirt anyway!

Sasha tries to open the toilet seat, but the slick porcelain and her raw tail refuses to cooperate!

 

It’s not over yet!

 

“Sasha! Get out of there!” Moldra continues to scream, she has to be back on her feet and ready to scream and charge in at any moment!

 

Not yet!

 

Without much choice, Sasha rides on the top of the seat!

 

Not...yet…!!

 

Sasha, backed to a corner, had no choice! She releases!

 

“—GASP! Agguuuuuuggghhhh~!”

 

Sasha’s holy water flows from her hole and onto the top of the seat! It flows all over the lid, much like an overflowing cup of coffee. It drips onto the tiled floor, ruining the clean shine that each tile was giving off. The hot fluids clash with the cold seat, providing Sasha some discomfort from the mismatched sensations, but dammit, nothing is ruining this!

If this attracts monsters, so what, this is a school of heavily-armed and trained adventurers! If she has to clean up her “mess”, so what, its hers anyway! If she’s punished, so what, not like they are gonna kill their vessel of their precious Serpha! The feeling of being pushed to the brink and having scrounge out a W, this is what she’s missed so much~! The raw feeling of doing what your insides, what your “gut” as the mortals call it, what she can call it, tell you to do, with no care to rules or orders~! This is freedom! This is purity! This is happiness!

“Riiyaaaauughhh…!” she moans, being in pure glee. Her skirt droops heavily, over-saturated with fluids. Her white thigh-highs are covered in yellow streaks, streaks that are continuing to grow by the second. She’s glad she wasn’t wearing shoes, as they will probably be flooded at this point. The bottom of her hated straitjacket is flushed with urine, a fate it well deserves, in her mind.

“Uoooaggghh…” she moans one more time. The pain within and without her has subsided, or at least numbed by her relief. She has a dopey smile and glazed eyes, one she feels is well-earned. The crimson that has overloaded them disappeared, turning back to their natural black, even being tinged in a bit of blue, out of joy for her deeds. A great chunk of her knows that she’s done just about everything wrong, but the part of her that is unbelievably happy at such a thing is...small, but EXTREMELY vocal. Her spiky ears wibble in joy, her inflamed tail flocks about, her feet splash in her excretions.

She doesn’t even mind that just about everyone witnessed her, having never locked the doors to either the bathroom or stall.

As soon as the moans and sounds of rushing waters stop, only a deafening silence remains. Guinevere is terrified for her job, Moldra is ready to explode, Felix has a look of disgust, and Sasha… Sasha doesn’t care. She has a sly smirk, one quite smug at getting the one-up against her captors. She wonders if the Dark Goddess, her mother would be proud at her defiance of the mortals, using their own asinine rules, systems, and conditions against them. Somewhere, she has to be laughing…

 

...Though the smiles don’t last long as Mrs. Einsfield holds her by her ear, dragging her through her own puddles. “Go,” she says in a tone that could put fear into all four of the goddesses watching them.

 

“A-are you--,” stutters Guinea.
I’ve. Said. Go.

 

Without any additional words, Guinea carries Felix’s hefty self and evacuates from the storm a-brewing within the bathroom. Moldra continues to drag Sasha, who's starting to understand the sheer power of the old ex-adventurer. The ire-filled Einsfield digs two of her bony fingers straight into the demon’s forehead, bringing back up her sheet.

She squints in disgust, watching the alarms the institute installed within her blare, watching the number at one specific statistic on her rise, watching the girl shift her expressions from smug pride to a childish terror.

 

<Accident!! Accident!!>
<Sasha X has had an Accident!>
<Current Total: 5!>
<Accident!! Accident!!>

 

Moldra drags the girl throughout the hallways, silently simmering in her wrath at first, before breaking the quiet halls with “You do know what this means, correct?

“W—what?! K-k-kill me? Do you w-w-w-worst!”

“Oh, no… I have something more… suitable than that.”

The blizzard outside howls louder as Moldra looks at one more stat: Sasha’s hip size.

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

Hey, I would like to give a quick update about why its almost been a month on this story.
I am working on the second half, it has just been a lot of trying times back-to-back, both for my life and world around me.

Thankfully, I think things are slowing down enough for me to finish things up. Work should be done sometime within the coming week, hold me to that!

I did wanted to release this notice along with the chapter, but I don't think it is fair for my few readers to wait for so long. Just wait a bit longer, I promise!

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  • 2 weeks later...

Currently undergoing finalization and proofreading!
In the meantime, here's some snippets of what I have in store!
 

Quote

“Ah… sweet, sweet pacifiers… Sweet, sweet silence…” swoons the elderly woman, taking out some more things out her desk.

Sasha, infuriated by sudden oral assault, tries to spit out the pacifier. But as she thrush her forked tongue, the baby’s mouth toy refuses to budge. Any attempt makes her feel ill, and only suckling on it makes that nauseous feeling go back down.

Has Guinevere taught you all about cursed objects, or will I have to do her due diligence?”
Mmmph!
I’ll say ‘yes’ for the both of our sakes.”

Quote

Jeez,” pants Guinevere, feeling Felix press her whole weight on her as she catches her breath. “For girls so short, I forgot how… uhh… ‘densely-packed’ you lot can be.”

Rude, but understandable…” scoffs Felix, patting her belly. The warm felt of her onesie brushes against her full stomach, jostling the coffee within. “I know this is a Serpha thing, right? It’ll sort itself and I can be as big as Mama, right?”
Yes, dear. And it’s a ‘Serpha thing’ I can even pick you all up like that. Doubt I can do that on a regular person…”
Aww…,” pouts Felix. “First you call me fat, now I’m not ‘regular’…” She mumbles under her breath, looking away from her teacher.

Quote

No matter how much Sasha kicks and thrashes, she can’t stop Mrs. Einsfield from stripping down her damp skirt, wet socks, and completely soaked panties! Mouldra’s desk has became an impromptu changing table, having managed to slam the unruly nightkin onto it. Sasha keeps kicking, even nailing her captor in the face, but she brushes off each attack with little heed! It’s like a different woman has captured her, the woman that was dazed and confused from her suprise headbutt no longer in this room! She’s dealing with an unfeeling golem, that can take any punishment in stride, driven only by wrath and a sense of personal duty for one task, and one task alone:

 

Putting Sasha in those disgusting, puffy, over-sized, blinding white, angel-soft undergarments. Diapers, fit for brats like her.

Quote

<!!=EMERGENCY=!!>
<!!=LIMIT BREAK WARNING=!!>
<Max Bladder Capacity: 1122mL>
<Current Bladder Fullness: 101%>

 

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  • 3 weeks later...

So.
I would like to apologize for my absence.

It's been a stressful July for me. It was as frustrating for me to suffer been through it all, staring at my work, getting nothing done, as it was frustrating for you all to not make good on my promises. But now here I am. And here's Gut Check.

I'll see you all soon, with more stuff down the pipeline. I miss doing this.

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With a slam, the door to the Principal’s Office is kicked wide open by the irate headmistress! Sasha is thrown into a chair as the mistress locks the door behind herself. The room is small, making the green-felt flooring feel intimidating to the Nightkin. Mouldra undoes her hair, letting her cotton-like gray hair loose, as she takes a stern, silent sit at her desk. Sasha watches, physically paralyzed by fear, but mentally running over her escape plan.

“Hungh…” Only Mrs. Einsfield’s grunt breaks the silence. “...You know, Sasha, I have daughters of my own.”
“Huh?! Oh, uh… Neat…?”
“Yes, quite… neat. There out there, venturing, being genuine heroines. Having little girls of their own. While I’m stuck here, needing to maintain the next generation of… unruly brats.”
“Oh shut up! I’m not a brat and I didn’t ASK to be some… some… hero or whatever! I was FINE being a statu--

Before Sasha could finish her sentence, the elderly Einsfield takes something out her top drawer of her desk, flips it in her hand, and chucks it straight towards the angry devil girl with pinpoint accuracy!

Suck suck suck suck.

“Ah… sweet, sweet pacifiers… Sweet, sweet silence…” swoons the elderly woman, taking out some more things out her desk.

Sasha, infuriated by sudden oral assault, tries to spit out the pacifier. But as she thrush her forked tongue, the baby’s mouth toy refuses to budge. Any attempt makes her feel ill, and only suckling on it makes that nauseous feeling go back down.

“Has Guinevere taught you all about cursed objects, or will I have to do her due diligence?”
Mmmph!
“I’ll say ‘yes’ for the both of our sakes.”

The duo remain in silence, neither side wishing to deescalate their internal fury. Mouldra goes about her desk, taking the time to clear it off of her many nick-knacks and office supplies. Sasha isn’t sure what she has in store, or why she is still sitting in her own “spilled Serpha”, or why does the headmistress of this crazy school/institute/asylum has cursed pacifiers. The only thing she knows is that she cannot keep sitting here. Even if she has to go out into the dark hallways, the bitter cold, or the freezing waters surrounding the island this prison resides in, she will escape. She will be free.

“Hmhmhmhm…!” With a satisfied clap, Mouldra says “Almost ready for your punishment. But first, let’s get you cleaned up, Sasha.”

With an eerie, sinister smirk, Mouldra approaches Sasha with her two bony fingers, ready to just about pierce her forehead. Her escape plan, her desire from freedom, all those emancipating thoughts begin to leave herself with every step the headmistress takes, as quick as the stream of waste she left back in the bathroom…

 

♥♥♥

 

“Huff… Puff… Huff…”

 

Guinevere, carrying Felix in her arms, finally manages to find her classroom. She rushes in, using her foot to slam the door to it behind her. Dropping her junior onto her cushioned behind, she locks the door and slumps down it, huffing and puffing along the way down. Both girls are drenched in sweat, the intimidating presence of the headmistress frightening them to no end. Their glasses are fogged, the condensation from their unsteady, rough breathing is doing its best to blur their vision, more than the dim lighting of the classroom. Their lack of sight prevents them from rejoining each other immediately, but eventually the duo rejoin in a terrified hug, Felix snuggling into her teacher’s flat chest.

“W-who, w-wha-, wh-why…?!” stutters Felix, still struggling to get her thoughts together.
“It-it’s fine. She’s just… she’s just the headmistress of the institute. My boss.”
“She runs this place? I thought it was the goddesses? Is she the one asking for all those guys in white coats to poke and prod all over me?”
“Oh, no, not like that. She just runs the school end, all the administrative nonsense. All the researching and island maintenance is handled by the goddesses.”
“H-how come I never seen her before?”
“She is usually not out-and-about like that. From what I’ve seen, she gets A LOT of administrative nonsense. It does not help you guys are rarely around in the day with the other students.”
“I’m happy for that NOW!”
“I cannot blame you…”

Miss Guinea, helping Felix up the best she can, woozily stands on her two feet. The young Nightkin is still shivering around her waist as she gets a feel for the door.

“Jeez,” pants Guinevere, feeling Felix press her whole weight on her as she catches her breath. “For girls so short, I forgot how… uhh… ‘densely-packed’ you lot can be.”
“Rude, but understandable…” scoffs Felix, patting her belly. The warm felt of her onesie brushes against her full stomach, jostling the coffee within. “I know this is a Serpha thing, right? It’ll sort itself and I can be as big as Mama, right?”
“Yes, dear. And it’s a ‘Serpha thing’ I can even pick you all up like that. Doubt I can do that on a regular person…”
“Aww…,” pouts Felix. “First you call me fat, now I’m not ‘regular’…” She mumbles under her breath, looking away from her teacher.

This startles the rookie teacher. The last thing she needs on her conscious is tearing down her student’s self-esteem, especially with one of her favorites! Hopping away from the door, she glomps and swoops up her junior with both her tired arms.

“Oooh! Please don’t be like that! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she says in a panic!
“I don’t know if I can accept that…” slyly pouts the devil girl. She does her best to hide her rosy smile, paying little mind to her tail is wagging like a dog.
“I-I know what will be acceptable! Why don’t we read a story? Take our mind off of… her… and what she has planned for Sasha.”
“...If I can sit in your lap and have another coffee, deal!” Felix turns towards her teacher, beaming a smile.
“That’s what I like to see~!” cheers the sprightly woman.

Miss Guinea proceeds to turn on the lights to the classroom while Felix grabs a textbook from the bookshelf. She readies her desk for the two to read on together, pours another two cups of coffee for the both of them to enjoy, and props up her lap for the junior adventurer to sit upon. Felix hops on up, letting both the weights of her thick bottom and thicker book land on the rail-thin woman! Guinevere winces, still sore from running from her superior while carrying the Nightkin with all her might!

“Owowow…!!”
“Oops, sorry, Miss Guinea!”
“N-no problem!”

She tears up a little, feeling like she even took a little crushing damage from her not-so-little ward. Guinevere can feel just how heavy the girl is. Her plump backside, chubby thighs, and protruding belly is all squishing down on her teacher’s skinny, frail body. She wonders what the researchers feed her for her to plump up in the short year since she’s been active as Miss Guinea scoots in her chair, squeezing the both of them flush between the desk and the soft, felt chair. This lets her get as close in with her student as possible. Her eyes water just a bit more, happy to be this close with the young, happy-go-lucky Nightkin.

“Ready?” asks Felix.
“Yes, dear. Let’s see what we got here-- ‘Advanced Sacred Geometry, 2nd Edition’?”
“Yeah! I wanna get a headstart! I wanna be a good healer when I get to go out in the field, I like to help people! So I wanna get good at magical mending, just like Mama!”

Guinevere is happy that the Nightkin girl is ready to be helpful and be intelligent, her little egghead, but she can’t say she poured enough coffee to read 800 or so pages of raw math, magical theories, and alchemical circles this late at night…!

“Now that I mention it, you don’t think the headmistress is hurting Sasha too much, right?”
“I don’t think she’s hurting her at all (hopefully…). I don’t think she’s one to get handsy with people.”
“Are you sure?”
“Not… exactly, no. I haven’t seen her attributes, but she can’t be that much stronger than normal. I’m surprised she even has Serpha, to be honest!”
“Not everyone has it?”
“Not even here. You girls, some teachers, and the goddesses are the ones with a lot of it. I only have a little and you see where that got me…,” Guinevere groans. “We should see if we could drop you down a few weight classes, missy.”
“Huh… Interesting. But not as interesting as this book!”

Felix cracks open the text book, letting her teacher read each page. They start and stop every so often, making sure that the young heroine can understand and investigate every little detail. But with every page they turn, every question she asks, every sip of her coffee she takes, her legs cross around each other tighter, her tail begins to squeeze around her pelvis, her insides toil and tumble, and the shuffling her butt in Guinea’s lap gradually gets faster and faster…

 

 

♥♥♥

 

MMMPH! MMMMMMMPHHHHHHH!!

No matter how much Sasha kicks and thrashes, she can’t stop Mrs. Einsfield from stripping down her damp skirt, wet socks, and completely soaked panties! Mouldra’s desk has became an impromptu changing table, having managed to slam the unruly Nightkin onto it. Sasha keeps kicking, even nailing her captor in the face, but she brushes off each attack with little heed! It’s like a different woman has captured her, the woman that was dazed and confused from her surprise headbutt no longer in this room! She’s dealing with an unfeeling golem, that can take any punishment in stride, driven only by wrath and a sense of personal duty for one task, and one task alone:

Putting Sasha in those disgusting, puffy, over-sized, blinding white, angel-soft undergarments. Diapers, fit for brats like her.

Let me go! Let me go!’ her thoughts race! ‘I know what you people do with those things, who those are for! Those are solely made to demean, weaken, destroy the will of their wearer! You will not break me! I am a cold-blooded killer! Let me go, let me go, LET ME GO!’

“I would say I am wondering what you are trying to tell me… but I’m not,” says Headmistress Einsfield, her face reeking of smugness. “The less you struggle, the faster your punishment will be done.”

Thud! Wham! Smack! Sasha gets a few more strikes against Mouldra’s aged face before the headmistress manages to catch her legs in one hand. She lifts and bends them back, far enough to make Sasha want to wail in pain! “NRGMPFF!!!” Mouldra uses her off-hand to grasp at Sasha’s tail and pulls! A wave of agony shoots up through Sasha’s spine, causing her to arc her back and break out in a flood of tears! But her tear-ducts aren’t the only thing flowing! The pain causes her to squirt out a few more streams of Serpha-filled urine to stream over Mouldra’s desk!

“Tsk. I should have guessed you weren’t actually empty,” reprimands Mouldra. “Girls like you lack the «Control» to hold yourselves together, I should not be surprised a little discipline would have made you leak like a water fountain.”

With Sasha mewling in pain, stunned, Mouldra flops open a large, white, cloth diaper for the Nightkin. Lifting her legs, she slides the undergarment under Sasha’s butt. She pulls the front up around her crotch, lowers her legs, and pulls the sides around each meaty thigh. Snap, snap, snaps! She snaps on button to them, locking her snugly in the garment. Sasha can feel her black, thin tail get caught in-between the thick covering, the diaper not having a slit made for it! The chunky padding is stopping her from kicking, the puffiness is preventing her from thrashing about! She can barely feel her lower quadrants, the pillowly protective pants is all she can feel!

“Feels good? I bet that feels all snug, all tight. Between this baby--” Mouldra feels up on Sasha’s diaper, resting her chin on Sasha’s padded pelvis, to get eye-level with her ward. “—and your straitjacket, they are probably the closest thing you’ve had to a hug. These things love you more than your own mother.” A smug, catlike smile cracks through the headmaster’s weathered face, one to rival the sheer look of ire and disgust Sasha has.

“MMPH! MMMPH!” she roars beneath the pacifier. ‘The Night Mother loved us all! You mortals, children of the goddesses, are the heartless cretins that deserves nothing more to be treated than meat!’ Sasha flops her body like a fish in rage, ready to slug her captor in the gut once more for her insolence!

Flop! Flop! Flo—THUD!

Sasha rolls off the desk and onto the felt floor! The padded straitjacket and diaper breaks her fall, preventing her from breaking her face! And yet, she cries, as if she hurt herself on the way down. She’s exhausted, humiliated, emasculated. The only solace she can take is that she doesn’t have to face Mrs. Einsfield, for the few seconds she was face-down against the coarse green carpet.

Mouldra picks her up by the back of her diaper. Carrying her, she sits down in her desk chair and props the girl across her lap. Using a foot to open a drawer, she takes out a wooden, holed paddle, all waxed up and ready to tan some puffed-up hides.

“You are a smart girl, Sasha. I bet you know what this is.”
Sasha gives Mouldra the stink-eye. If she could sink her fangs on anything but the plastic of this sucker, she would engrave her name all over Mouldra’s lap.
“Now, I like this thing. But its exhausting to use, you know? I think we both don’t want Ol’ Spanky here to not be used, right?”
Suck suck.
“Right. What if I told you I have something more… fitting for a punishment for you?”

Mouldra spins in her desk chair, making sure that she narrowly avoids slamming Sasha’s head against her desk. She faces towards what appears to be a mini-fridge. Placing the paddle on Sasha’s back, she opens up the fridge, showing off a fluffy, white, flan-looking cake. An angel wing tops it like a cherry, the white icing blanketing it like much like the snow covering the school grounds.

“Looks good, right? I made it myself. I just never had anyone to share it with. It’s lonely at the top, Sasha, especially knowing your girls are out there, saving the day. While I am here, signing forms, learning to bake, disciplining brats. It gets boring. And then… it hit me.” Using her bare hand, she slaps Sasha’s covered bottom! She doesn’t feel it too much, but the sudden strike startles her. “Why not combine what I love with what I learned?”

She takes out the baked good, placing it on the dry parts of her desk. Rotating and raising her chair, she puts Sasha face-to-cake. She takes the pacifier out of Sasha’s mouth, throwing it away, back into the desk’s inventory space.

“Eat, young one. Eat until there is nothing left.”

 

♥♥♥

 

Pbbt! Rwrumf!

Felix’s rear vibrated as much as her stomach gurgled and her lower body rocks back and forth. One hand is holding her privates as another grips onto another page of her textbook, ready to turn the page and indulge her insatiable curiosity. Miss Guinea’s been silent for much of the time, letting the girl break wind on her lap all she wants, wanting to avoid hurting her feelings any more than she believes she has. But given that this is about the eighth time she “relieved” herself, and the smell is starting to make drinking her own cup of coffee a difficulty, she steels her nerves and caresses her student’s head.

 

“Felix?” she asks, rustles the top of her head, flopping the fuzzy ears of her onesie’s hood.
Felix doesn’t respond, completely absorbed in her book.
“Felix, dear, are you okay? Do you…?”
Felix shuffles in her seat, trying and failing to get more comfortable as her stomach growls once more, the coffee within doing its damage.
“Felix, do you need to go to the bathroom, dear?”
“H-Huh?” Felix finally snaps from her concentration, in the midst of turning to the next page. “No thank you, I’m goo--”

 

FLWAMPTH!!

 

Felix releases another fart, much louder than the ones before. Guinevere pinches her nose and waves the air around herself, the pungent smell of methane assaulting her sinuses. Felix blushes, having been made aware of her growing desperation in an uncomfortable fashion. She coils her legs into herself, holding her tail in her hands betwixt her meaty thighs.

“M-maybe a little…,” she confesses, the pain making it hard to ignore.
“It’s fine, dear. I don’t mind the… releases. And neither do the goddesses. Just make sure you let me know before it gets this bad.”
“I can hold it! I mean, I think I can!” Felix’s rosy face looks determined on something, contrasting her tightening grip on her lower crotch. “I feel like I’m on the crux of a big-time revelation in this book! And it’s not like I can go anyway, I don’t want to anger the Einsfield lady!”

Guinevere remembers that she has to wait for Einsfield to give them the okay. It’s been a good while since she took Sasha with her, and the two still aren’t back. It’s been haunting the back of her mind for just as long, and it has been leaving her restless. With Felix’s potential for an accident rising by the second, she has to decide whether or not she should bother her.

Gwoooarrruuu…!

Felix clutches her stomach. Her gut toils about, the gas inside inflating her stomach just enough to press tightly against her pajamas. She can feel the weight of all the liquids inside swirl about, sloshing around her intestines. She has a familiar heaviness deep down, the feeling of her Serpha rebelling against her. It’s mixing in with a number of substances within her, and it soon wishes to get out sooner than later.

She is just unsure about which end would break first.

“Uhnngh…,” she groans. She resumes reading into her textbook, hoping that she can lose herself once more. Felix didn’t felt any of this kind of pain while she was reading, resolving the mysteries of the Sacred Geometries that fuels all the magic the goddesses have gifted all her adventurers, and she hopes that getting back into that zone of truth will let her ignore the growing pressures on her lower quadrants.

“Felix? You sure you don’t want me to call Mrs. Einsfield?” says Miss Guinea, rubbing her young ward’s stomach, trying to ease the pressure.

“I ca-can hold it, I pro--” PRWAARPPTT! “Agghh…! Better…! Better… I can, I promise. It doesn’t hurt that bad, I’m in control…” Felix takes a deep breath, letting more air settle in her stomach, but calming down her quickening rocking in her teacher’s lap. “You can check my stats, I have great control! Even better with this suit!” Felix rubs the tummy of her onesie. “Mama promised it will help!”

 

An offer that does piques Guinevere’s curiosity. While she doesn’t believe Felix’s confidence in her «Control», she was always interested at how well she’s been avoiding accidents. Juniors like her tend to suffer a good deal of such embarrassing events, whether its from their fledgling handling of their newly-found Serpha, how their rapid metabolisms because of such Serpha increases their “output”, night terrors from traumatizing close encounters of monstrous kind, or them being of an ancestry or society that never had to use the gifts of the goddesses like Rest Stops and Emergency Bags before. Hence why in recent years, Junior and Senior Adventures, especially ones in the Institute, have required some additional trackers added to their stat sheets. Serpha works like salt, it follows where water goes, making it easy to measure the amount within a girl, how much have recently left, the way it left, where it was left, and the girl’s emotional state when it happened. It’s how they can derive a girl’s:

 

<Felix X’s Bathroom Statistics>
<!!=WARNING=!!>

<Max Bladder Capacity: 1122mL>
<Current Bladder Fullness: 96%>
<Max Stool Capacity: 1.2 kg>
<Current Bowel Capacity: 94%>
<Current Afflictions: [Diuretic 3, Laxative 2]>

 

Gross…’ To Guinevere, much of this is too much information. She never liked knowing the specifics of how close her students are to an accident. Not even her own. She does got some confirmation that Felix definitely had too much to drink. Still, the most important statistic, the one she craves to know, would be:

 

<Felix X’s Bathroom Will Derived Statistics>
<Accident Count: 3>

 

 

Guinevere bites her lip. She doesn’t need to know how close a student is to an accident, so much as how many they have. Not only it lets her know just how immature her little ones are, it gives her specifics on how to handle her wayward souls. It confirms her suspicions about how she was given a class of troublemakers, how her job both distrusts her teaching abilities to use them on their star pupils… but also trusts her ability to help comfort, care for, and help the ones that are in the most need. Juniors like Felix, Sasha, Mocha, Beatrix, Princess Porcia, Arti, Lottie, and Rui all give her pleasure in caring for. Knowing that she is the only one that can help them avoid the embarrassment and even the raw danger of letting loose all that Serpha all over the place gives her a smile unlike any other.

It’s something she’s both ashamed and proud of, one she hopes doesn’t invokes the ire of the goddesses she worships the ground they walk on. They were the ones that let her have this job, and she refuses to let them down.

“Aghhhh….!!” groans Felix, grasping shut her precious hole. A tsunami of pain rushes all throughout her chubby body. She jiggles as she shivers, almost like she took some damage from the system shock of it all. “Ngh…! Mmmf!!” Her moans grow higher and higher in pitch and frequency as her body growls and rumbles deeper and deeper. She feels a storm brewing deep inside, one that is pushing her far and away from that lucrative zone of mathematical tranquility.

 

“M-miss Guinea? Can you please hurry up…? I-I need to g-g-move some, stretch my legs.”
“R-right, right…,” says Guinevere, taking out and writing down some notes on Felix’s statistics. “She can hold so much…

 

<Last Recorded Accident: [Wolf Moon, 17th], [Bed-Wetting, 813mL]>
<Notes: “Recommended Prevention: Less fluids before bed, CON-increasing spells should be cast before sleep.”>
<Control: 3[+1] [Average]>

 

“Average” for a Junior Adventure is about “Below-Average” for a Senior, sometimes even “Shameful” for some as experienced as Guinevere or Mouldra. It is still commendable for someone in Felix’s class, seeing her own star pupil is able to tell and reach a bathroom, sleep and wake up dry, and not let the few low-level adventures she suffered leave her negatively affected. It isn’t quite the highest in her own class, that honor would have to go to Beatrix, a relatively new fairy girl introduced to her at the start of the season, rocking about with a 4 [Slightly Above Average]. It is a close second, and she hopes the rest of the class can reach their levels with some more Constitution improvements, knowledge on how to use the bathroom, and the use of all the tools the goddesses have granted them all.

 

“Okay, I’m done,” says Miss Guinea, happy to see Felix’s progress…
“Good, good!” the ex-Diabolic says, hopping off her lap and falling onto the cold floor, clutching both her rump and privates.

 

BWAAARRRPT!!
SSWIIIII!

...Only for Guinevere to reminded that a 3 is still a 3, and Felix is quickly pushing her luck in just how long that it will stay a 3! It doesn’t take years of study for the teacher to surmise that, while she hasn’t had a full blown accident yet, she’s probably staining her animal-print panties bit-by-bit. An accident is only counted if it touches the floor, which gives Felix some leeway, but at the rate she’s going, her underwear isn’t going to be the only thing stained!

“Okay, I’m calling Mrs. Einsfield. She’s taking way too long and we aren’t going to have a mess in my room!” Miss Guinea says, losing her patience as much as Felix’s bladder is losing its.

“No!” shouts Felix. I-I don’t want you to get yelled at or in m-more trouble for our sak-- OOHH! P-please call her, please call her!” Felix rolls onto her side as another wake rushes into her. She checks her own stats, showing it off for the both of them.

 

<!!=EMERGENCY=!!>
<!!=LIMIT BREAK WARNING=!!>
<Max Bladder Capacity: 1122mL>
<Current Bladder Fullness: 101%>

 

“101%!? I jumped 5 points in that short a time!?”

“Coffee’s a natural diuretic, Felix, dear,” Miss Guinea picks ups her Felix, placing her back on her lap, helping her hold herself. Not much can stop the coming storm, but 4 hands are better than 2. She should speak to the goddesses about granting her the ability for doing such to be effective. “It can even be a laxative if you don’t have enough of a full belly for it (or be like me and can only afford the cheap stuff…). It’s why you have to be careful with it, especially for girls as inexperienced as you lot.”

“Auughh…,” moans Felix. “And here I am, thinking about how I wouldn’t learn much tonight. Hehe---ooooohh…!” Her slight chuckle was interrupted by yet another wave. She doesn’t even want to look at her Fullness right now.

“Everyday is a new experience, my dear,” Guinevere says, softly. She winks towards her student, giving her an enveloping hug along the way. She hopes that her love will give Felix just a bit more CON to withstand her growling gut. “Now let’s call Mrs. Einsfield. She won’t be mad at us.”

Taking the intercom phone from her desk, Miss Guinea punches in the number to Mouldra’s office. As the dial tone drones, she alternates between rubbing Felix’s ailing stomach and pulling on her tail tight enough to hold on.

 

Beeeep.
Beeeep.
Beeeep.
Rwarpt!
Beeeep.

No response.

 

“Uh-oh,” says Guinea, breaking out into a sweat. “Not good. It looks like she’s still busy with Sasha.”

“Ooooh…,” groans Felix.

 

♥♥♥

 

As the intercom rang on the floor in Mrs. Einsfield office, the aged disciplinary focus is dedicated completely humiliating the devil girl in her lap. Holding the paddle right next to her padded behind, pressing it tight enough so that Sasha can’t forget it, Mouldra leans the Junior Adventurer into her diabetes-inducing schlock. Sasha bites through each under-cooked chunk of cake, for if she doesn’t want her behind to be spanked, she certainly wants to breathe anything but white frosting! But as she tries, she finds herself struggling to swallow! It’s too spongy, it’s too sweet, it’s too much, it’s too...pure!

 

“Mmmff!! Stahp! Stahp!” cries Sasha, speaking past a mouthful of angel-food cake. “Ah kahnt swallo, ah kahnt swallo!”

Angel’s food cake is a light, crumbly cake that is quite easy to digest for anyone and everyone… were you not a Nightkin with a less-than-stellar baker forcing it down your gullet. She feels what she did managed to swallow sit HEAVY in her stomach, iron weights dropping straight into her intestines.

“What’s wrong, dearie~?” snide Mouldra, running her finger up her spine. “Feeling full? Ill? Gassy? Too much sugar for your bitter self? Or...” She eyes at how stiff, rigid, and wildly flailing Sasha’s tail is going about. “Ate something you shouldn’t have?” The sly, spiteful smile says everything to Sasha just how sadistic this headmistress was.

Sasha regains enough control in her tail to wrap it around her ailing belly! She feels like all her intestines are knotting up, the cake inside grabbing hold and twisting, coiling them around itself. She feels each individual chunk press against her insides, feeling them find any pouch and crevice inside her guts to lodge themselves into.

“Mmngh…! Nghm!?!” Sasha feels something boil up her throat, ready to release out her mouth. But before she can figure out what, Mouldra slaps SLAPS her back twice over!

GWOOOAARRPPP!!” Sasha releases a foul smelling belch, one that water her eyes. “Guh…!” Sasha’s always been a fairly crass girl, she was a pretty firm believer of--

“Better in than out, the kids would say,” Mouldra says, fanning the air.

That. It reminded her of the days her she got to spit fire at hapless adventurers. But the smell of hellfire wasn’t what that came out of her mouth. It was more… acidic, spoiled, rotten. Mouldra can smell it too, she doesn’t have to look at the dour expression on Sasha’s face to tell that her “punishment” was starting to take effect. She can hear and feel the gorrrhhhh and urrrnnns of Sasha’ tummy on her lap, the constant dry-heaving, the slow, erratic wiggling of her round derriere. She looks towards the plate, smirking at how Sasha only managed to eat half of it. With one more push, she would be assured that Sasha’s dilemma would truly begin.

“Plahse…,” Sasha says, mouth filled with icing. “Noh mohre… Muh stomach….”

“You’ve barely started, dearie. Here, I’ll help.”

Grabbing a plastic spoon from her desk, Mouldra shovels another heaping down Sasha’s throat. Her cheeks puff up with more and more baked “goods”. The deeper the spoon goes down her mouth, the more chunks of icing and angel’s food cake slides on down. Against the better judgment of all her Diabolic instincts, she’s forced to swallow if she doesn’t want to choke! But the moment even just a crumb reaches the pit of her stomach, her stomach begins to rebel!

 

Eraooorrnnnnn!!

 

Sasha feels something bubbling.

 

Rubbleububblubleble!!

 

Toiling its way down her colon!

 

Pfffftbtbbtbtbtbtbt!!

 

Settling in and pushing out of her rectum!

 

“Gaaahh!” cries Sasha, the impromptu release from her ass coming quickly and painfully. It burns, scorches even! Her butthole quickly grows raw as a series of farts rapidly fire out, each one increasing with intensity…

 

Raapprrbbbbpptptttt! BLRAPBTT!

 

...heat…

 

Roobbbpppttt! RauRGhhh! PLOPT! BBBTSP! BLOOPTSS!

 

...and moistness...

 

“W-what did you –ARUGHOO-HOO-HOO-- WHAT DID YOU DO!?” Sasha rolls off of Mouldra’s lap and proceeds to wrap her tail around her stomach once more, but with her gut distending past the straitjacket, from all the cake and gas that has built up inside, she’s unable to get a good grip!

“Good, it was about time your punishment kicked in,” Mouldra says, unsurprised, a little impatient-sounding even.
“W-w-what?!”
“Let’s see… Given you have a «Control» of 2, and you want to argue with me instead of keeping your stomach in check, I’ll give you about… 5 or so minutes.” Mouldra takes out an egg timer out her desk, one she used to “bake” with.

BROORRPT!! Another wet fart breaks out, splotching a bit of Sasha’s diaper already. Mouldra waves the air and grabs her egg timer, adjusting it down one minute. “Even I can be wrong every so often,” she chuckles.

“Augh…! Why does…,” Sasha stutters, picking herself off the floor, only for her stomach to lurch forward. She leans over the desk, popping her padded behind out. “My stomach…” she mewls. Much of the fire inside her has been snuffed out, replaced with the fire ready to expel outside her backside. Her butt burns just from the few farts she let out already. She knows all it would take a couple more, if one big blast wouldn’t come sooner than later, before her intestines give out and let everything she just ate and then some to be released straight into her diaper.

Mrs. Einsfield takes out another diaper and a safety pin, pinning it to the back of Sasha’s straitjacket collar. “Get moving,” she orders. “Ask politely for Miss Guinea to change you once you get to her. If you don’t before the timer goes off –and we both know what’s going to happen when it DOES go off-- I will find you, Little Sasha. And we do this again, and again, and again. Either until my delicacies purify all your sins straight out of you –after all, it is a recipe our lovely Goddesses have taught me, and you should know how they feel about you lot-- or you until your Control drops all the way to 0. And let me tell you, Little Sasha.” She grabs onto Sasha’s puffy diaper, gripping it hard into her hands, managing to grab her crotch all the way past the padding. She leans right next to Sasha’s ear, before going…

“I like to be able to breathe in my own office.”

 

Slapping Sasha’s behind, Mrs. Einsfield flicks her wrist and shouts “Knock!”, unlocking and opening the door. Sasha darts out, taking her first chance to get as far and away from the sadist as possible. Between the forced diaper change, the spankings, the force-feeding, and her colon ready to make an exodus from the inside to the out, she’s on the brink of tears.

“GUINEA!!” she shouts, running through the halls, trying to not let the massive amount of padding stop her! “Miss Guinea!!”

Sasha wraps her tails around herself as best as possible. But she knows the egg timer on Mrs. Einsfield desk, tells the inevitable truth. She already feels the wet, sloppy mass beginning to prod its way against her back hole, some of it already trickling out and wiping it against the cloth padding. No matter how far she runs, she can hear the ticking inside her head. Tick tick tick tick tick tick.

Her stomach roars with a deep drone as it grows with the mass inside. Her straitjacket grows tighter and tighter, ready to squeeze her gut out like a juice pouch. Her feet scurries across the floor,, with a tap tap tap. Her addled mind can barely map out the Headmistress’ Office with her classroom, wanting to cry, shout, get revenge, get away, get changed. Everything about her is in a panic, doing no favors to her growing accident. She doesn’t have to look at her own stats to see the points jump up with every step. 62%. 77%. 89%. 101%! 110%!

MISS GUINEA!! HELP ME!!

 

♥♥♥

 

“I-I’ll keep calling, maybe she’ll pick up this time. Uhh…” Guinevere wracks her brain. 101% and counting… She’s starting to doubt if she could even reach the toilet with Felix. Even if she was fast on her feet, her arms and stamina are still shot from her escape from her boss. She looks across her desk for an idea, a stopgap, something that could help Felix avoid an accident. Coffee cup? No, it definitely won’t hold over a liter of waste, plus it won’t deal with the… other side. Her desk? It’s not like her job trusts her enough with important files, most of her drawers are empty. But she’s already wrought the ire of the custodian staff of the Institute already just by the nature of her class, no need to make it extra hard for them… Intercom? Even if she dials again…

Her desk is offering no solutions to Felix’s predicament. Miss Guinea guesses her poor undies are probably sipping Serpha straight from the source, and they soon will want to share the rest with her onesie and the floor. The irony of a costume designed to help her hold her urine, getting soaked by it… At least it would make her feel warmer, Guinevere only has her coffee for that… She stares towards the window, cursing under her breath at the blustering winter storm. The chilly winds, the frigid air, all that coldness is seeping through the cracks of the windows and distracting her from thinking. She rubs her arms, trying to focus on something that could hel--

 

...Snow…
...Desk…
...White…
...Warm…
...Soft…

“Felix!” shouts Guinea!
“Y-yes!?” The surprise nearly tips Felix over the edge, she grasps down below even tighter.
“Open my bottom-left drawer, I think I got something to help!’
“O-okay!”

Felix does what she is told, opening the drawer, seeing a couple of files and graded classwork, like sword practice, magical mightiness testing, and herbalism reports. Miss Guinea sorts through and toss them out, hoping to find her answer to preventing the oncoming limit break….

“There we go!” she shouts, pulling out what appears to be a--

“A diaper?” Felix tilts her head.

Soft, plastic-like, cotton-knitted, disposable diapers. Fresh and unused, lacking in prints, and only slightly smudged by pencil shavings, it looks like the answer to keeping the class and Felix’s record clean.

“Yeah! I got a few disposable ones when Arti was brought over. They usually meant for discipline, but they said she needed them.”
“Oh, yeah! That’s why her butt looks so big all the time? I never noticed, I just figured elves were pretty bottom-heavy!”
“She’s a sensitive soul, don’t say that to her face, okay? Your behind isn’t exactly what I would call ‘cherry-sized’.” Guinea is tempted to cop a feel onto Felix’s behind, but she realizes it probably won’t help her. “Now here, put this on.”
“I-I don’t know… Aren’t they for those who need it? And what if I fail to hold on without my suit?”

It’s a trouble Guinevere hasn’t thought about. But it only takes a couple of seconds to rationalize it.

“At least you wouldn’t pee in it. And Mouldra can’t get angry at me or you for avoiding the procedure when she didn’t pick up. Now go! Hurry up before you pee on my lap!”

Felix nods and start to undress from her onesie. In the meantime, Guinevere tries to call Mouldra again.

 

Beep!
Beep!
Bee—kerchunk!

“Yes, Guinevere?”
Yes yes yes!’ Guinevere cheers internally. “My lady Einsfield!”
“Yes, dear, you can save the formalities. Now, what do y--”
“Let us leave the room!”
“Excuse me, dear?”
“Felix needs to go, can we leave the room?!”
“Dear, I don’t quite understand you. Who is this again?”

 

Guinevere looks a little shocked. What is going on? She looks towards Felix, skipping towards the desk as she takes the diaper off of it, holding her crotch along the way. At least she remembered her Control lessons…

 

“Mrs. Einsfield, it’s me! You know me, you’ve said my name already!”
“Are you sure I know who this is? I know Guinevere as a sweet, respectful dear that doesn’t interrupt her superiors, who remember her manners.
The hostile tone reverberates across the connection, unsettling Guinevere. It makes her own self leak a little. She gulps, trying to calm down enough before she resumes. “...I’m sorry…”
“I know you are, dear. Now then, I know you must be in quite the rush, am I right?”
“...Yes…”
“But you know we have procedures and manners, correct?”
“...Yes.”

 

Guinevere eyes Felix, struggling to equip the diaper. It scrapes against her thighs, catching itself against her big bum. “I-its too small! It won’t fit! H-help me, Miss Guinea!”

 

“I-I’m coming!” Guinevere shouts, wanting to help her student!
“Patience is a virtue the goddesses instill in us all, am I right, Miss Guinea?” Mouldra says, slowly and deliberately.
“R-right…! It is, it is!”
“Just like respect, politeness, and discipline.
“...Yes, I know…” Guinevere can see Felix struggling more and more, jostling her bladder. Her inability to stay still is only making it more difficult to slide it on, and she knows that without her costume, she can’t hold on for much longer! “Can you-- May you give me a quick second?”
Ahem.”
May you please give me a minute, My Lady Einsfield?!”
“As you see fit, Miss Guinea.”

Guinevere sets the phone on her desk, as she vaults over it, to Felix’s side. She grips the diaper, widening the waistband, and HEAVES it up around Felix. She bet she did some damage to her, seeing Sasha look stunned afterwards.

R-rrrii-pp!

 

And some damage to the diaper! Yikes! It doesn’t take a researcher to tell that with its lack of durability, there’s no way it could hold all of Sasha’s waters at this point!

“Nononono!” panics Miss Guinea.
“Wh-what’s wrong?! Is it on!? Can we go!? H-help, help! It hurts, it hurts, it hurts!” shouts Felix!
Guinevere rushes back towards her desk, picking back up the phone.

“My lady Einsfield!”
“Yes, dear?”
“May we leave the room, go to the bathroom?!”
Ahem!”

“May we please leave the room, go to the bathroom!? I beg you, Felix can’t have an accident!”
“There’s no need to beg, and you may. Once Sasha gets back to you.”
“Shoot, Sasha! Is she--”
“She’ll be with you soon. You should know what to do with her once you see her.”
“But what about Felix?! I don’t think sh--”
“Then pray for the goddesses to give her strength, and for Sasha to find her way to you.”

Miss Guinea gulps again. Mrs. Einsfield must have been furious after tonight. And she’s taking it out on everyone. It’s a hard lesson to swallow for Miss Guinea, responding to passive-aggression has never been her forte. She meekly grips her stomach, feeling her hands begin to feel clammy and sweaty, her nervousness and caffiene overdose doing their best to deal as much agony to the girl. She begins to feel ill as she silently dry-heaves, trying not to worry her ward, her boss, or herself any more than she already has.

“Guinevere? Guinevere, you can hang up now. Guinevere?”

Guinevere stays silent, gripping her belly tighter. She doesn’t know where Sasha is or how long she will take. She doesn’t know how long Felix can last. She doesn’t know why Mrs. Einsfield is so angry at her. She doesn’t know how much coffee she drunk all day. She doesn’t know if she can go home tonight. She doesn’t know how long this blizzard would last. She doesn’t know how long she will last.

Serpha does many things, but give control over one’s life is not one of them. And even if it did, the paltry amount within Guinevere Guinea would not help her. With her world crashing down, Guinevere wipes the sweat off her brow, takes a deep breath, and retreats to her happy place.

 

She’s at home.
With a nice cup of milk.
With very little on.
Sitting by the fireplace.
Laying in the lap.
Of the sweetest caretaker she ever known.

 

...She smiles, letting go of the drama of the real world, retreating back to a time when she was just a Junior. When she didn’t have to teach, or deal with demanding bosses, crying students, hellish hours, and 600-page textbooks. Regressing further, back to when she never had to deal with any kind of stressors, before she awakened any kind of Serpha. Before she had to remember all kinds of classifications, what makes up a heroine, back when she was the protectee and not the protector. Hanging onto the phone, she sits down in her chair, letting the flood of memories rush into her...

 

Drip. Drip. Driieeesh. Fwiishhhhhhhhhhh…!!

 

And letting a different kind of flood rush out of her.

Guinea’s stomach brightens with a white light as her the small amount of Serpha warns all her internals about her accident. Felix stares at her teacher relieves herself over the floor, smiling with a dopey, relaxed smile. She gurgles a little, as a pink shade grows all over her face.

“Guinevere, are you okay?! Is the room leaking, I’m hearing water flowing? Do you need assistance?” Mouldra rapid fires more and more questions, waiting for Guinevere to respond with anything.

“I-I could use assistance, yes, please,” Guinea says calmly, dark urine still flowing down her legs, pooling around the floor. “I’m not feeling well, not well at all.”

“Miss Guinea…?” meekly asks Felix. She watches Guinea hang up the phone, sits down on her chair, and slumps down like a wet noodle. The shock of watching her own teacher surrender to her bodily needs distracts her enough to leak some into her own protective garments! “Shoot, shoot! I-I can't stay here, I can't hear this!”

Guinea reluctantly snaps out of her fugue, remembering that she isn’t the only one at risk of giving the janitors a hard time. She hangs up, running around her desk in her damp, splotched skirt, picking up Felix. She presses her underdressed body against herself, helping Felix hang on tight, trying to let what remains of both of their Serpha resonate and fight off the waves of desperation. But given that neither have much physical, mental, or spiritual strength left after tonight, it’s all futile. Guinevere’s hot, moist clothes against Felix’s nude body is doing her no favors in maintaining her cool.

“P-put me down! I need to go! Let’s go!” Felix shouts, kicking off of Guinea.
“W-wait, Felix!”

Felix opens the door, ready to move at full blast. She doesn’t care how dark the hallways are or following orders like a good girl or how little time she has left. All she cares is about getting to the bathroom. She rushes ahead…!

 

Slam!

 

Only to tackle into the other person just as desperate, if not more so, than her.

“ArggghhhHHHHH!!!” Felix and Sasha shouts, their cries echoing off the walls of the Institute.

 

Prrrfffttt!!! Bloooorrrrpppptttt!!!!!!!
SSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!!!
Dingalingalinging!

It doesn’t take long for the hallways to be filled with a bitter, foul smell. For the rips in Felix’s disposable diaper to breach, letting her waters and bits of fecal material spread all over the tiles, thanks to Sasha careless colliding into her chest. For Sasha’s cloth diaper to swell and brown, as her liquid feces expel all over, thanks to Felix slamming headfirst into her stomach. For both of the Nightkin to become nothing more but mewling, shouting, crying girls.

Guinea can only rest her head against her hand, wanting to retreat back into the comfort of her own fantasies. The incessant shouting between the girls and all three of their attribute pages, blaring the <ACCIDENT!! ACCIDENT!!> alarm is giving her a headache.

 

♥♥♥

 

“Thank you, I mean it, My Lady. I’m still pretty crummy at this whole deal.”
“Please, save the formalities, Guinevere. Let’s just get this done fast enough.”

The two women are helping the Nightkin clean up after themselves. Commandeering the infirmary, they’ve wiped down, powdered up, and placed the two girls in some more protective undergarments. The nurse’s office only had ones made for Seniors this late at night, but fortunately it seemed the size was more fitting for Felix’s chubby frame. Sasha needed to double-up, her skinny body being a just a tad too small for the thin, black cotton garments to fit snugly around her. Guinea helped herself to one as well, waiting for her skirt and panties to finish washing.

“There we go, Felix. Nice and dry!” cheers Guinevere.
“Thank you, Miss Guinea!” Felix winks towards her teacher, happy to have her cleaning her up. “I probably could have done it myself, you know?”
“I bet you could. But why don’t we treat this as a favor, from me to you?”
Felix snickers. “Don’t know how much of a favor this is, but I’ll take it! For now! I’m happy I only peed myself, can you imagine how badly things could have went if I pooped--”
“Felix.”
“Yes, Miss Guinea.”
“Mind your manners.” Guinevere points towards Sasha and Mouldra discussing besides themselves.
“Ah, right. Sorry.”

 

“...I won’t be punished again, right?” asks Sasha, looking down.
“No, you did what you were told. Perhaps I should have followed you down, but I had to answer my phone.”
Sasha mocks her silently, mouthing out the words “...I had to answer my phone…”.
“What was that, young lady?” Mouldra says sternly.
“...I said I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For… you know…? Hitting you…”
“Ah. That. Water under the bridge, Little Sasha.”
I hope I can throw you under a bridge…,’ deviously thinks Sasha.

 

“Well, today was rough for us all,” says Miss Guinea. “Doesn’t look like that blizzard is clearing up any time soon.”
“No, nor does my work,” sighs Mouldra.
“You want me to help you? I think the girls wouldn’t mind giving you a hand… Err, Sasha’s tail, need be.”
“No, no. I prefer to do my work alone. You all probably could stand to get some rest. I think I’ve disciplined you all enough. Why don’t we have some cake, my treat?”

Sasha glares at Mouldra, with a mix of fury and fear.

“Oh, hush you, I got devil’s food cake ready too. Even some lemon rum cake. I know that should settle better in your stomach.”
“Still wouldn’t eat it. No amount of icing is going to cover up how bad those cakes are.”
“Quiet, Sasha!” retorts Felix. “It’s free cake! How could you turn that down!?”
“I already had –umpp, URP! – my fill. Feel like I’ve gained a weight class… Besides, you should want free, good cake. URRRPP! Ow…” Sasha rubs her tummy with her tail. She can’t see it, but she can feel just how stuffed it is, even after her emergency evacuation. She imagines it must look like a balloon underneath all the belts of her straitjacket.
“Agh, you did that on purpose!” Felix waves the air. “Smells like your diaper...”

Guinevere sniffs the air. “Yeah, it kind of does.” Guinea taps Sasha’s forehead, opening up her attributes. Scrolling down, she glances at Sasha’s «Control».

 

<Control: 2 [-2] [Incontinent]>

 

“Aww, you might have caught a bit of a stomach bug,” Miss Guinea says, rustling Sasha’s hair. “Looks like I was right, Mrs. Einsfield. We might need to use the cloth diaper after all!”

“Ouch,” sympathizes Felix. “You want to hang out in the bathroom first, Sasha? I still gotta go, but I think you might need it more.” Felix rubs her own gut, her nude top giving her access to. Some gas escapes, albeit silently. “A-actually, you think I could go ahead of you? I promise I’ll be--” PFFT! That one came out less silently. “F-fast…” Felix blushes as Mouldra, Guinevere, and Sasha pinch their noses.

Mouldra sheepishly gazes away. “...That might have been a little under-cooked, after all. ...Think I should use less cockatrice eggs yolks for the batter… I have some frozen foodstock stored just for occasions like these. Might as well consider this a ‘slumber party’ as you younglings call ‘em. You can all camp out in my office, it has to be warmer than the classrooms. And don’t worry, Sasha. I’ll… change you again, should… push comes to shove. Hope the researchers find us before that happens…

“C-cool, yay!” cheers Felix, hopping a little, her breasts bouncing up and down. “Sleepover at Mrs. Einsfield’s pl--!” FWAARPT!! “Bathroom! Bathroom first! Sleepover in the bathroom first!”
“We’ll meet you there, Mrs. Einsfield! Come on Felix, hold it!”
“T-trying! Ooooh, I bet my bowels are over 100% now!”
“You are in a diaper, anyway,” Mouldra says, shaking her head. “Take your time, don’t run in the halls!”

As Guinea and Felix dart towards the bathrooms, Sasha groans, alongside her own stomach. She really doesn’t want to be stuck in that office overnight, not with that over-sized, crotch pillow again… Thinking it over, however, it did feel better than her current garments, with them scratching up her butt.

She wonders to herself how long stomach bugs last? Wondering if the Night Mother could cure such a thing? The heavy thoughts slowly make her drift to sleep among the women’s natter. She hopes that she doesn’t wake up with another accident, but if she did, she hopes that big, soft, fluffy guardian keeps her dry…

...What is this place doing to her head?

Edited by PlusParsnips (see edit history)
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