text
stringlengths 5k
422k
|
|---|
Contains violence, swearing, suicidality-but-not-really, masturbation and a lot of voices in Wade's head. Plus masochism.
—————
Chapter 3
Spider-Man doesn’t like us.
He didn’t want tacos.
Exactly. Who doesn’t want tacos? He hates us, just like everybody else does.
‘For fuck’s sake,’ Wade groans, ‘will you quit it with the angsty emo bullshit already? It doesn’t matter! I don’t expect him to like me.’
The chair Wade is sitting in was salvaged from a junkyard, one of the few pieces of furniture in his apartment. It’s full of mystery stains, and all the febreeze in the world couldn’t make it not smell like ass, but it’s comfortable enough. Less so when his mind refuses to leave him alone, though.
Face it Wilson. No matter how much we want to be a hero, no one will ever accept us as one.
Wade sighs exasperatedly. ‘Seriously, do I have to blow my own brains out to get some peace and quiet around here?’
Probably.
‘Fine!’ Wade stands up from his chair abruptly and stalks over to his weapons locker, next to the mattress he (sometimes) sleeps on. He pulls out the shiny new handgun he lifted from that crate in the trafficking ring’s warehouse, releases the safety, and presses the barrel to the underside of his chin.
Really? We’re actually doing this?
‘Half an hour of blissful silence while my brain grows back? Worth it.’ He pulls the trigger.
—————
His first conscious thought is that it’s going to be a total bitch to clean the brain matter off the ceiling. The second is that the soreness in his jaw where the bone is resetting feels kind of good. The third is the realisation that it’s light outside, which means he’s been out for a couple of hours. The equivalent of a good night’s sleep for him. He feels strangely rejuvenated as he sits up from where he fell on the floor.
Wade feels the back of his head. It’s a little squishy still, but otherwise healed. He gets to his feet with a groan and a stretch and walks to the bathroom. He glances at himself in the grimy mirror, just long enough to see that his jaw and neck are splattered with dried blood. A shower, then.
He listens while he gets undressed, listens to his mind. It’s quiet. Wade opens the cabinet above the sink, more to not have to see his own reflection than anything else. He finds a rusted razor blade on a shelf inside.
‘Is it still self-harm if you don’t actually take any harm from it?’ he wonders out loud, picking up the razor blade. There’s no reply. ‘So, my brain’s giving me the silent treatment, is that it?’ He cuts a gash across his chest with the razor and watches it heal over flawlessly, leaving the same scarred and blotchy skin behind. It seems like an oxymoron that his healing factor can heal any new wound he gets without leaving a mark, but can’t put his skin back the way it used to be.
Wade gets in the shower. The water shifts between boiling and freezing. Old shitty pipes in an old shitty building. Still, the changes in temperature are oddly stimulating. He cleans off the blood and grime, until the water pooling in the bottom of the tub is rust coloured and opaque.
With no one to talk to and no interruptions, Wade’s mind wanders and eventually ends up in the only logical place: thinking about Spider-Man. Wade has seen the lower part of his face exposed, so he knows him to have fair skin and pink, soft-looking lips. He’s even felt that smooth skin under his fingertips, when he changed their costumes around last year. It’s more than enough to work with, and he takes himself in hand.
It’s been a while, so it doesn’t take very long, not when he’s imagining Spidey’s pink lips on his body, and he comes with a gasp.
Fuck yeah, Spidey, suck my hard cock, bitch!
‘Knew it was too good to be true,’ Wade mutters, cleaning the cum off his hand in the shower stream. ‘And don’t talk about Spider-Man that way, okay? He’s nobody’s bitch.’
Dat ass, though.
Dat ass!
‘Dat ass,’ Wade agrees wistfully.
He turns off the water and gets out of the shower. If he stays in his apartment all day he’ll just end up blowing his own brains out again, in all its futility, so he dresses in civvies—jeans and a Captain America hoodie to cover as much of his face as possible without his mask—and steps outside into the brisk, autumnal New York morning. Breakfast is definitely the way to go. Preferably pancakes.
—————
So, we get off on violence, we get off on the adrenaline high of a good fight. That’s old news. But pain?
Dude, pain sucks!
‘Hey, don’t ask me to explain it,’ Wade mutters to himself as he strolls through the streets of Manhattan. ‘I’m not a shrink.’ A few people look at him curiously. (Probably tourists—real New Yorkers are damn near pathological about minding their own business.) In this day and age of bluetooth, you’d think people would be used to other people seemingly talking to themselves.
A need to feel, perhaps? A way to battle the boring numbness and repetitiveness of invulnerability.
We’re not invulnerable, doofus, we just heal real fast.
Wade stops in front of a news stand. The Bugle has a way too good picture of Spider-Man on the front page, under some headline about masked vigilantes and how they’re bad for New York.
But giving ourselves pain isn’t really enough, is it? Logical next step: wanting someone else to give us pain. Hence goading Spider-Man into that punch last night.
He picks up the paper and scans the front page without really reading. ’A gamble. Either I’d have gotten that kiss, which would have been awesome, or he would have punched me, which, also pretty awesome.’ Wade sighs and puts the paper back, resuming his aimless ramble. ‘Man, I’d like to spar with him . . . If you know what I mean.’
Ooh, we should do that next time we see him!
It’s better if it’s natural, though. If we piss him off first so he doesn’t hold back.
‘He’ll always hold back. Hero, remember?’
He stops at a hotdog stand. It hasn’t been long since breakfast, but then again, hotdogs. No other reason needed, really. Setting off again he munches the hotdog happily. Nothing like meat in his mouth to cheer him up.
So, if we’re into pain . . . Does that mean when we get turned on after a fight, it’s really the pain that turns us on?
Fighting turns us on whether we get injured or not.
True enough.
Wade ignores his boxes and instead focuses on savouring the taste of cheap yellow mustard. The mustard’s his favourite part. If he adds enough it makes his nose tingle.
He takes the subway. Not because he wants to go anywhere in particular, but because it feels like the thing to do. Days are boring. Days usually involve watching TV, but his new place doesn’t have one yet.
‘Maybe I should buy a TV.’
Buy a TV? You mean, spend money on one? Why?
Because heroes don’t steal. Duh. Heroes pay for stuff.
Seems like a waste of money . . .
Wade’s thoughts are interrupted when he hears a scuffle towards the back of a subway car. Three tall, burly teenage boys are surrounding a third, smaller one. One of them shoves the kid backwards into a seat while another cracks his knuckles menacingly at him. By the looks of them, they should all be in high school. Cutting class, no doubt.
Wade stands up and saunters over to the group, listening in on their conversation.
‘You either pay up or we take it out in blood, shrimp!’ the closest one growls.
‘B-but,’ the smaller kid stutters, ‘I haven’t got any money! Y-you took it all last week, and I won’t get any more until—’
‘Shut up!’ the one who shoved him snaps, and lands a punch in the kid’s stomach. The victim lets out an ‘Oof!’ as the air is knocked out of him, and screws up his brown eyes, a few tears streaming down his cheeks. He swats them away with a brown hand.
‘Aww, widdle baby!’ the third of his tormentors taunts.
‘Hey!’ says Wade cheerfully, clapping his hand down on the shoulder of the closest bully. ‘Just a suggestion, but I really think you guys should leave the kid alone.’
‘Oh yeah?’ The largest of the bullies squares his shoulders. ‘And who’s gonna make us?’
‘I am!’ says Wade, smiling.
‘You and whose army?’ one of the others asks.
Wade drops his hood. Two of the bullies recoil in horror as his bald, scarred head is revealed, but the third, the largest, stands his ground.
‘Motherfucker!’ he exclaims. ‘Did you get hit by the ugly train, or what?’
‘Oh,’ says Wade, unfazed, ‘you wanna know how I got like this? Let me show you!’ He reaches down the back of his jeans and pulls out his handgun. Without blinking, he releases the safety and presses the barrel to the bully’s forehead.
The change is instantaneous. Every hint of bravado vanishes from his face. His blue eyes go wide and scared, and he starts trembling.
‘No! God, please, no, I don’t wanna die!’
‘Apologise,’ says Wade calmly.
‘All right! I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me!’ the boy sobs, real tears streaming down his face. Judging by the smell, he’s already shit himself. The subway train slows, pulling into a station.
Wade lifts his gun and says, ‘Get the fuck out of here!’ As the bullies run off the train like bats out of hell, Wade calmly puts the safety back on and returns the gun to its make-shift holster. The subway doors close and the train starts moving again, and Wade looks down at the kid on the floor.
The boy looks up at him with wide chocolate eyes. He looks scared.
‘Don’t worry. I wasn’t really gonna shoot him,’ says Wade, pulling his hood back up and returning his face to shadow. ‘I don’t kill kids, even if they deserve it. That’s just not me.’
He turns away and starts walking back towards his seat. By the looks of the handful of passengers who witnessed the scene, though, he should probably get off at the first opportunity, before someone thinks to call the cops.
‘Hey,’ says a quavery voice behind him. ‘H-hey, mister!’
Wade stops and turns his head to look at the kid, who’s now picked himself up off the floor and is dusting himself off.
‘Th-thanks,’ the kid stutters, and a blush creeps into his cheeks.
Wade is so surprised by this it takes him a moment to find his voice. Once he does, he says, ‘No problem, kid. You, uh . . . You stay in school, okay?’
The train pulls into the next station, and Wade gets off quickly, disappearing into the crowd of commuters. |
Chapter 4
Spider-Man is reading from his phone. ‘Eye witnesses report a heavily scarred man in a Captain America sweatshirt threatening three teenagers with a gun on the subway near Central Park North around noon today. “They were bullying a fourth kid,” one witness told reporters, “so I didn’t really feel too bad for them. It’s not like anyone actually got shot.” Allegedly, the unidentified man scared the three teens away before vanishing himself. “He was pretty gruesome looking,” one blogger reports. “He wouldn’t have needed to use the gun, as just his face seemed enough to scare the pants off the boys.” NYPD spokespersons declined to comment on whether New York’s finest are following up on the incident.’ He looks up at Wade. ‘You wouldn’t happen to know anything about this, would you?’
They’re standing on a rooftop, because where else can an arachnid superhuman and a heavily armed mercenary meet without attracting attention? It’s a little past midnight, and Wade fidgets uncomfortably under Spider-Man’s gaze.
Gruesome looking, huh? Well, at least they’re honest.
Someone’s on our side. Didn’t feel bad for the bullies. We did a good thing!
Sure about that? Spidey doesn’t sound too happy, does he?
‘Shut up!’ Wade growls under his breath.
‘Excuse me?’ says Spider-Man in a casual tone.
Wade scratches his cheek through his mask absentmindedly. ’Nothing. Um . . . Helluva thing to do, threatening kids with a gun, huh?’
Spider-Man crosses his arms, hip jutting out at an angle. He looks strict, and more than a little bit hot. ‘Deadpool,’ he says slowly, in the kind of voice a parent might use with a misbehaving child. That tone conveys it all.
Don’t say anything! Don’t give yourself away! Spider-Man will be pissed.
‘They were beating on a little guy, pressing him for money!’ Wade whines.
Idiot.
I wash my hands of him.
Spider-Man sighs heavily. ‘That’s no reason to pull a gun on them.’
‘I wasn’t gonna shoot!’ Wade argues. ‘I just wanted to put the fear of Bob into those little fucks. They were bad guys. Today it’s shaking down a kid for his lunch money, tomorrow it’s robbing banks! But I don’t kill kids. Scout’s honour! I would never have pulled that trigger, you gotta believe me, baby boy!’
Spider-Man uncrosses his arms and relaxes his stance a little bit. ‘You know, SHIELD and all those guys will be able to put two and two together just as well as I did, and they’re not gonna believe you were never gonna shoot. As far as they’re concerned, you’re a ruthless killer.’
They kind of have a point. We are a ruthless killer.
‘Which is why,’ Spider-Man continues, ‘you can’t do crap like that. People like us, we have to be above reproach, especially those of us who haven’t got multi-billion-dollar corporations or government organisations at our backs.’
Wade’s shoulders slump slightly. ’Are . . . Are you mad?’ he asks in a voice so small it surprises even himself.
For fuck’s sake. If you had a tail it would be between your legs. Man up!
Spider-Man heaves another sigh. ‘I should be, shouldn’t I?’ he mutters, more to himself than to Wade, it seems. ‘But honestly, I get why you did it. I wouldn’t have done it like that, but I couldn’t have just stood by and watched a kid being bullied either, so . . . No, I’m not mad.’
‘Really?’ Wade asks hopefully.
And now that non-existent tail is wagging. You’re like an overgrown puppy. Get a hold of yourself, Wilson!
How come we sometimes talk about ourselves in first person plural and sometimes in second person singular? When we’re not talking out loud in first person singular, of course.
Wade shakes his head slightly, trying to pull his focus away from the boxes and place it on Spider-Man.
‘Really,’ he’s saying. ‘But if we’re gonna keep this thing up, you gotta promise me not to do something like that again, okay?’
Wade nods wildly, grinning. ‘Okay! Sure, absolutely! No scaring non-criminals with guns in broad daylight. I can do that.’
Spider-Man gives a curt nod, then stills. ‘Something’s going on. About three blocks that way.’ He points, walking to the edge of the roof. He shoots a sling of web at the next building over, preparing to jump.
‘Give me a ride?’ Wade asks hopefully, but Spider-Man shakes his head.
‘I’m gonna find out what’s going on. Head straight East. I’ll wait for you.’ Then he leaps.
Wade wastes no time running the three blocks, checking his weapons as he goes.
Spider-Man isn’t mad at us! How is that not the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard?
‘It is pretty awesome,’ Wade admits. ‘Maybe he likes me after all?’
He rounds a corner and Spider-Man drops down in front of him.
‘Armed robbery,’ he says.
‘Hello to you too, sweetie-pie,’ says Wade.
Spider-Man just continues like Wade hadn’t said anything. ‘Three guys with guns holding up a twenty-four hour store. There are six civilians inside, including the clerk. One bad guy has the customers up against the back wall with his gun on them. The other two are by the register. There’s a ventilation shaft out into an alley. I’ll sneak in through there and incapacitate the one threatening the customers. You go in the front door and distract the other two. The safety of the clerk is your priority, got it? And no killing!’
‘You are so hot right now,’ Wade leers. ‘Okay, go in, distract the bad guys, look out for the clerk and don’t kill anyone. That about cover it?’
Spider-Man nods.
‘I love being the Robin to your Batman, Spidey!’
‘My what?’
Dude, wrong universe!
‘Nothing.’
Spider-Man gives a slight shake of the head, like he’s trying to clear it. ‘After I go in, give me ten seconds and then enter the store, okay?’
‘Gotcha.’
Spider-Man crawls up a wall and vanishes. Wade dutifully counts to ten, and then strolls towards the entrance to the store at a leisurely pace. He opens the door with the jingle of a bell. It’s easy to spot the bad guys. They’re all carrying guns and all wearing ski-masks. Two of them are over by the register, where a young man in his early twenties is filling up a bag with cash at gunpoint. Wade can just about see the third guy at the back, standing in front of a line of civilians who are stood with their backs against the shelves, four men and one woman.
‘Hey!’ says a sharp voice from over by the register. ‘Who the fuck are you?’
‘Just a customer,’ says Wade innocently, without looking up. He pretends to browse the magazine rack, picking up one that has an oiled up, tanned and muscled man in very little clothing on the front. ‘Man, when I was a kid magazines only objectified women,’ he tuts. ‘What is the world coming to, huh? One minute you think it’s safe to be a creepy, sexist swine, and all of a sudden folks with vaginas demand equality. What’s that all about?’
He hears the click of a hammer being pulled back and looks up. One of the bad guys has his gun trained on him. It’s a semi-automatic pistol. The magazine will hold ten 9mm rounds. The gun pointed at the clerk is the same. Twenty potential bullet wounds.
‘Hey, now!’ Wade says cheerfully, putting the magazine back on the rack and raising his hands in a placating gesture. ‘Is that any way to treat a potential customer? Seems I may have to speak to the manager.’
Out of the corner of his eye, Wade spots something red and blue dropping from the ceiling, and he takes a stride towards the register.
A loud bang echoes through the store as the guy with his gun on Wade fires. The bullet hits Wade straight in his black and red clad chest, and he feels it rip through his lung, fracturing a rib on the way.
Bastard!
We’re gonna have to have the suit fixed. Again.
‘Ow!’ Wade croaks and coughs. ‘What the fuck, dude, was that really necessary?’ He touches a gloved hand to his chest and it comes away wet with blood.
‘What the hell?’ The man fires two more rounds at him. They both hit home, one in his shoulder and the other in his abdomen. It hurts a bitch, but that doesn’t matter right now. From the corner of his eye, Wade registers that Spider-Man’s taken out the third guy. Good. That means he can have fun now.
Wade pulls his own gun and aims it at the second man, who’s still covering the clerk. Stupidly, the man takes his gun off his hostage and points it at Wade instead, just like Wade had hoped. The clerk ducks down behind the counter. Smart kid. Probably not his first armed robbery. Grinning, Wade aims for the bad guy’s leg and fires. He howls with pain and actually drops his weapon.
‘Seriously? One bullet and you’re down? Pussy.’ Wade shakes his head.
The last man standing swears loudly, and empties his clip into Wade, who has to take a few steps back with the sheer force of the bullets. The last one hits his right forearm, and Wade loses the grip on his gun as the muscle spasms. It’s okay, though. Spider-Man’s here to save him.
Sneaking up behind him, Spidey taps the guy’s shoulder and clears his throat. The man spins around, pointing his empty gun at the superhero, as though it will do him any good at all.
‘You know, you really shouldn’t have shot my friend,’ says Spider-Man conversationally. Then he somersaults backwards, aiming a swift kick at the bad guy’s stomach that sends him sprawling.
While Spider-Man webs the two criminals up with their fallen comrade in the back of the store, Wade’s mind is an endless chorus of, He called us his friend! He called us his friend! He called us his friend!
He picks his gun up off the floor and holsters it. The movement causes him to wince. His gunshot wounds are already healing, but they’re still sore as hell. He watches Spider-Man check on the civilians before he comes over to where Wade stands by the door.
‘Everyone else is okay,’ Spider-Man informs him. ‘No injuries or anything. The only one who got shot is you.’
Wade grins. ‘Glad to hear it!’ He coughs, the metallic taste of blood blooming on his tongue.
‘You okay?’ If Wade didn’t know better he’d almost mistake the tone of Spider-Man’s voice for concern.
Wade waves a hand dismissively. ‘Fine, fine! I’ll be all healed up in no time.’
Spider-Man nods. ‘We should get out of here. The police should be here soon.’
They leave the store, cheers and applause following them, and Spider-Man pauses on the sidewalk, looking around as if to assess his surroundings.
‘A quick escape would be best,’ he says after a moment, and without warning he scoops Wade up in a fireman’s lift and, shooting a string of web onto a lamp post, starts swinging them out of there.
What are we, Lois Lane?
‘Why, Mister Spidey,’ says Wade in a sing-song falsetto and fake southern accent, ‘I do believe you mean to sweep me off my feet!’ To his immense surprise and gratification, Spider-Man chuckles softly at this.
They land on a rooftop not far from where they began, and Spider-Man sets Wade gently down on his feet.
‘Spider-Man, my hero!’ Wade says happily, mock swooning.
‘You sure you’re okay?’ Spider-Man asks, and there’s no mistaking it now, that’s definitely concern in his voice.
‘Hey, I injure myself worse than this for fun,’ says Wade with a grin. ‘This is nothing. See?’ He pulls up his sleeve, showing Spider-Man where the last bullet hit. There’s no sign there was ever a bullet wound there. ‘All healed!’
‘Well, that’s good,’ says Spider-Man. ‘You did really well today, Wade. You helped resolve the situation without killing anyone, and without putting innocents at unnecessary risk. You did good.’
Wade grins from ear to ear. That warm feeling is back, spreading through his body, from his chest to the tips of his fingers and toes. Without giving it much thought, he pulls his mask up to his nose and kisses Spider-Man’s masked cheek. ‘Thank you,’ he whispers, and then he steps back and laughs happily, because Spider-Man called him his friend tonight, and he said he did well, and right now everything’s pretty perfect. In fact, only one thing could make this moment better.
‘Tacos!’ Wade exclaims. ‘Come on, Spidey-widey, the night is still young!’
Spider-Man shakes his head and gives another soft chuckle, like earlier. ‘Sure, Wade,’ he says. ‘Let’s have tacos.’ |
Chapter 5
Peter stuffs his coursework into his bag as his fellow students file out of the auditorium. He shoulders his bag and is about to follow them when his Physics professor speaks.
‘Parker?’ She looks at him over the top of her glasses. ‘Could I see you for a moment?’
Peter walks over to her desk, where she’s packing books and papers into her briefcase. ‘Yes, professor?’
‘You’re very gifted,’ she says, stopping to study his face, ‘but I can’t quite shake the feeling that you’re not really applying yourself. If you worked a little harder, studied a little more, you’d outshine everyone else easily.’
Peter feels himself blush. ‘Sorry, professor,’ he mutters. ‘I really do my best, but I have . . . a lot of responsibilities.’
‘I realise that. It’s just sad to see such a talented young man not reach his full potential. Know what I mean?’
‘Yes, ma’am.’
She gives him a penetrating stare. ‘All right. I won’t keep you. See you on Friday.’
‘Yeah. See ya.’
Peter trots out of the auditorium with a sigh. She’s right, of course, but between his job and being Spider-Man, he has limited time to study, and on top of that he now has to babysit a hyperactive, schizoid, former mercenary wannabe hero. It’s a wonder he even makes it to lectures anymore. College is hard enough even when you’re not juggling a secret identity.
Deadpool’s getting so much better, though, Peter muses as he leaves the building. The past couple of weeks have passed almost without incident, and he’s helped make Peter’s patrols much more efficient. Peter’s gotten used to having him around, and where he used to feel uncomfortable with Deadpool’s flirting, the banter now flows freely.
He’s done with his lectures for today, so he heads home to his apartment. Peter wishes he had time to just chill out for a couple of hours, but he’s got photos to sort through and lecture notes to read, and there’s that math formula he still can’t seem to wrap his head around, and then he’s got work before he’s meeting Deadpool for patrol. Oh, and he should call Aunt May, cause he hasn’t talked to her in a while and she’s probably fretting. He sighs, thinking, not for the first time, that he’s stretching himself too thin. At least he’s only got two semesters left in college. Of course, after that comes graduate school. No rest for the wicked.
—————
Deadpool flips one of the assailants over on his back and steps on his chest, knocking the air from his lungs. Another comes at him from the side and, without really looking, Deadpool pulls one of his sidearms and points it at the man.
‘You sure you wanna do that?’
Peter is busy with his own two guys. He knocks one out with a well-aimed kick to the head, turning to focus on the other one, a tall blonde man in a tan leather jacket. He seems to be the one in charge, if there is such a thing in a group of guys trying to rape a young woman.
He heard her scream just as he and Deadpool were about to call it a night. They found her badly beaten on the ground in an alley, with one of her assailants standing over her with his belt undone (the blonde one Peter’s currently fighting) and the other three standing around watching gleefully. This kind of thing makes Peter feel angry in a way that few other crimes can. It filled him with such an immense fury that he almost wanted to tell Wade to screw all his previous admonitions and murder the crap out of these guys. Judging by Deadpool’s furious shout as he jumped into the fray he’s scarcely less angry than Peter, though he has so far refrained from actually killing anyone, for which Peter knows he will in hindsight be grateful.
Now he leaps up onto a nearby wall in order to flank his opponent. Blondie isn’t fast enough, and Peter lands a kick to his side, knocking him off balance. Out of the corner of his eye he sees Deadpool pull a second gun, pointing it at the guy on the ground.
‘Either of you try to run away, I will shoot you,’ the merc says softly.
Peter aims a punch at Blondie’s shoulder, causing him to cry out, and then he shoots a large web that wraps itself around his body. Blondie falls over and the fight is essentially over.
Deadpool brings his two guys over to Peter at gunpoint, and Peter webs them all together. He’s too angry for quips or one-liners. Instead he leans in close to Blondie’s face and hisses, ‘Next time you decide to assault a defenceless person, remember that this is my town, and no one gets sexually assaulted in my town if I can help it!’
He webs them all to a nearby dumpster before walking over to the girl, who’s on the ground with her back against a wall, sobbing. She’s got long, brown hair and olive skin. Her knee-long skirt is torn and bruises are forming on her face and her bare arms.
‘Hey,’ says Peter softly, crouching down before her. ‘The police are on their way, okay? You’re safe now.’
‘Yeah,’ says Wade, and his tone is so kind and gentle that Peter looks up at him in surprise, ‘those guys can’t hurt you now. Spidey here’s got them all tied up, see? Everything will be just fine.’
The girl looks up at them with wide green eyes. She chokes back a sob and takes a deep breath. ‘Th-thank you, Spider-Man,’ she says in a shaky voice. ‘And . . . And you.’ Her eyes fall upon Deadpool’s white lenses. ‘Thank you. If you guys hadn’t arrived when you did . . .’ She shudders. ‘You saved my life. Or at least my . . . My . . .’ She swallows and looks away again.
Peter can hear the approaching sound of sirens growing louder and gets to his feet again. He looks over at Wade, whose eyes are still on the girl on the ground. ‘Cops are coming,’ Peter says softly. ‘Rooftop, two blocks south?’
Deadpool nods, finally looking away. ‘Yeah, okay. See you there.’ Then he slinks into the shadows, just as the first police car pulls up to the kerb.
—————
‘Is she okay?’ are the first words out of Deadpool’s infamous mouth when Peter lands on the agreed-upon rooftop.
‘She’s pretty shaken, but she should be fine eventually. At least we managed to stop them from . . . you know.’
‘Yeah,’ says Wade darkly. ‘Fucking bastard motherfuckers.’
Peter shakes his head. ‘If I could ever think killing someone was justified . . .’ He trails off. Glancing at Wade, he can tell that he’s smiling under his mask.
‘I know, right?’ he says, but it doesn’t seem to be directed at Peter. ‘Man, didn’t think I could love this guy any more than I already did.’
Peter looks away again, blushing under his mask. As much as he’s always considered himself straight, he can’t pretend that he doesn’t feel flattered by Deadpool’s repeated advances and words of affection. He clears his throat. ‘That doesn’t mean I give you leave to kill them,’ he says, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice.
‘Of course not,’ says Deadpool at once. ‘No un-aliving criminals, even if they are worthless, rapist scum. Hope to die.’ He draws an X across his chest.
Peter nods. He feels suddenly exhausted, the adrenaline of the fight wearing off. He has an early lecture tomorrow, and he groans internally, realising how little sleep he’ll be getting. Again.
‘You okay, Spidey?’ says Deadpool, bringing Peter out of his thoughts.
‘Yeah, fine.’
Deadpool regards him through his white lenses for a few moments. ‘You know what I think you need?’
Knowing Deadpool, no doubt it’s something lewd, but Peter still says, ‘What?’
‘You need a night off!’
Peter blinks. ‘Huh?’ That’s not what he was expecting at all.
Wade keeps talking. ‘It’ll be awesome! Tomorrow night. My place. We can eat pizza and watch a movie or something. You bring the beer. You are old enough to drink, right? Here.’ He produces a sharpie out of nowhere and grabs Peter’s arm, pulling up his sleeve. ‘This is my address,’ he says, scribbling onto Peter’s forearm. ‘Apartment 306. Eight PM. Be there or be pear-shaped or whatever.’ He lets go of Peter’s arm, and Peter’s sure he’s grinning now.
He opens his mouth to argue, to tell Deadpool that he has to patrol, that it’s his responsibility to keep this city safe, but instead he says, ‘Okay. I guess I’ll see you then.’
Wade laughs. ’You bet your sweet ass you will!’
—————
Peter lands on the fire escape outside Wade’s window. Looking inside, he can see Wade sitting on a moth-eaten couch. He’s wearing his Deadpool mask, but other than that he’s in civilian clothing, jeans and a blue long-sleeve t-shirt with a vague, washed out design on it. Peter taps on the glass with his gloved knuckle and Wade looks up.
The merc strolls over and opens the window. ‘Hey, baby boy! Full Spidey get-up, huh? I can dig it.’
Peter crawls in through the window and holds up the sixer of lager he’s been carrying.
‘Sweet!’ Wade takes it from him and walks over to the coffee table, where three pizza boxes are stacked. ‘Have a seat! I have a couch now, it’s new. Well, new old. Didn’t know what kind of pizza you liked, so I got some random ones. The top one’s got taco meat and nachos on it!’ He picks up a beer bottle and twists the cap off, handing it to Peter, who sits down on the couch gingerly. It’s actually pretty comfortable, though, and he lets himself relax a little bit.
Wade grabs a beer bottle of his own and pulls his mask up to his nose so he can take a swig. Then he studies Peter for a moment. ‘You know, if you wanna chill out in something other than that spandex, I’ve probably got some clothes you can borrow. Ooh! You could use my Spider-Man pyjamas! How meta would that be?’
Peter stares at the ex-mercenary for a moment. ‘You . . . You have Spider-Man pyjamas?’ Wade nods enthusiastically. ‘You . . . sleep in them?’ Peter asks slowly, feeling mildly creeped out by the idea.
‘Nah, man, I sleep nekkid!’ Wade grins. ‘I just got them cause it was funny.’
‘I think I’m good,’ says Peter, pushing up his own mask to take a sip of his beer. ‘The suit’s actually pretty comfortable.’
Wade shrugs. ‘Suit yourself. Hah! Get it?’ He sets his beer down on the table and picks up two DVD boxes. ‘So, what do you wanna watch? I got Saw and The Little Mermaid.’
Peter laughs, then, unable to stop himself. ‘Those are our options?’
‘I know, right? They’re both so good, it’s hard to choose!’
Thinking that torture porn probably isn’t going to help him relax, Peter says, ‘In that case, I think The Little Mermaid.’
‘Good choice!’ says Wade happily. He crouches before the TV-set and pops the disc in the DVD-player. ‘You know, I identify with Ariel so much . . . I mean, she just wants to be part of their world! You know?’ He picks up the remote and sits next to Peter on the couch. ‘Like the TV? It’s new, too! I paid for it and everything!’
While Wade flicks through the menus, Peter looks around the apartment. It’s pretty grim, really, all bare brick and very little furniture. There’s a definite draft running through the place, chilling it, and everything smells of damp and dust. But the lamp behind the couch gives off a warm glow, and there’s a soft, thick shag rug on the floor beneath their feet. On the walls above the mattress in the corner Wade has put up posters—a collection of bands, movies and superheroes—and umpteen pillows, two duvets and several blankets make up a kind of fort there, with a banged up old laptop in the centre.
‘Nice place you’ve got here,’ says Peter as Wade presses play.
Wade chuckles. ‘Isn’t it? Building’s owned by some slum lord. Haven’t paid rent since I moved in. I mean, guy’s a criminal, right? After the third time he sent his goons round to collect and I sent them back with no teeth, they stopped coming. I’ve been trying to make sure he doesn’t give the other tenants too much of a hard time either. I mean, there are kids in this building, can you believe that?’ He shakes his head. ‘They deserve better lives than this.’
Peter finds himself smiling. Seeing Wade like this, relaxed and drinking beer and just chatting, he almost seems like any other guy. He’s not Deadpool right now. He’s just Wade Wilson. Almost normal, except for the scarred hands and the mask, of course.
‘So, do you always wear your mask around the house?’ Peter asks casually. He immediately regrets it as Wade stiffens slightly.
‘Do you always wear your Spider-Man costume to movie nights?’ Wade asks in return. His tone is light, but there’s a hard edge to his voice.
‘Point taken,’ Peter mumbles. ‘Forget I asked. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.’
Wade seems to relax at that, and then he giggles. ‘Yeah, I don’t get it either, no one’s that fucking nice!’ he says to no one in particular. Then he looks at Peter again. ‘Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. We’ve all got issues about something, right? This is mine. Well, one of mine.’ There’s a pause, during which Ariel fails to appear in her giant clam shell. ‘Anyway, pizza!’ He opens the topmost box, and the smell of cheese, jalapeños and beef wafts out of it, making Peter’s stomach growl. ‘Tuck in, dude.’
They munch on pizza and watch their movie. Wade sings along with all the songs and occasionally goes off on tangents that are completely incomprehensible to Peter (‘Part of your world! Of course we can, we’re owned by Disney now. Probably why it took so long to get our movie greenlit, really . . . I know, the only thing that could make this movie better is if Ryan Reynolds was in it.’), and Peter finds himself relaxing. The beer and the pizza taste good, and the movie leaves him with a definite feeling of nostalgia.
When Wade puts a friendly arm around his shoulder, Peter doesn’t object. Instead he drains his beer bottle and leans back into the couch, smiling.
Edited October 6, 2015 by ThornWild
(see edit history) |
More omorashi at last!
—————
Chapter 6
Wade groans and rubs the back of his skull. Getting shot in the head isn’t nearly as much fun when a bad guy does it. For one, the shot that went in through his forehead just above his left eye and straight out the other side didn’t knock him out. It just scrambled his brain and made him feel queasy and disoriented. His brain is already regenerating, but his control of his limbs is less than optimal and, oh yeah, he seems to have lost control of his bladder for a moment, and isn’t that just great?
’Shit, shit, shit!’ Wade all but whimpers, clenching his muscles to shut off the flow as quickly as he’s able.
I thought we liked wetting ourselves.
Yeah, but this isn’t really the best time, is it?
He shakes his head, turning his focus to where Spider-Man’s fighting bad guy of the day. Or, bad girl, as it happens. She’s fast and talented, he’ll give her that, fighting with a pistol and hand-to-hand, but she’s not fast enough for Spidey, who yoinks the gun from her hand with a well aimed sling of web and has her pinned to the ground a few seconds later. Wade staggers to his feet just as Spider-Man lands a particularly vicious punch to her gut, knocking the breath out of her and leaving him free to web her up before she can regain her momentum.
Wade looks down at her and clicks his tongue. ‘You know, time was I would have made a comment about your boobs right about now,’ he says casually, ‘but you know what? You just don’t deserve my admiration.’
Spider-Man stands up, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. ‘She put up a good fight, though, I’ll give her that. You okay, Deadpool?’
Wade makes a fist experimentally. ‘Yeah, fine. Headshots can incapacitate me for a while, but I always come back. I’m like herpes.’
‘In more ways than one, I’m sure,’ Spider-Man quips. ‘Well, I don’t think there’s much need to stick around. Cops will be here to collect her soon.’
‘Aye aye,’ says Wade and they set off.
‘Hop on my back, it’ll be quicker,’ says Spider-Man as they turn a corner.
Yay! Spideyback ride!
Wade touches the area around his crotch gingerly. It’s just a little bit damp, but it’s enough to make him grimace and say, ‘Yeah, you probably won’t want that. A bullet to the brainpan can have a whole bunch of unfortunate side-effects. Temporary blindness, nausea, loss of muscle control . . .’
‘I thought you were already healed?’
‘Yeah, pretty much, but loss of muscle control can lead to . . . accidents.’ He didn’t think he’d feel embarrassed saying it out loud, but now he finds he does. wetting yourself is a hard thing to admit to when you’re a grown-ass man.
Spider-Man just looks at him for a moment. Then his gaze seems to travel down to where Wade’s suit is stained a slightly darker red. ‘Oh!’ he says as it dawns on him. ‘Um . . . Yeah, I can see how that . . . Hm.’ He falls silent for a few moments.
. . . And we grossed him out. Just as we were getting to be such good pals.
‘It’s okay,’ Spider-Man says suddenly.
‘I . . . What?’ Wade stares at him in amazement.
Spider-Man shrugs. ‘Hey, urine’s sterile. It is just urine, right?’ Wade nods. ‘Well, then. Hop on. I can clean my suit if need be. Not like I haven’t gotten worse stains on it before.’
Wade does as he’s told. ‘I less-than-three you so hard right now,’ he says, and Spider-Man laughs before shooting a string of web towards a nearby high-rise, and then they’re off, swinging through the streets of New York City.
Man, this is so giving us a boner!
Don’t tell Spidey. He won’t like that.
It does feel kind of good, being pressed up to Spider-Man’s back like this. Wade’s got his legs wrapped around his waist and is holding onto his shoulders, and leaping between the tall buildings like this is a total rush, leaving him breathless. Every time Spidey lets go of a strand of web to shoot another, Wade feels weightless. As Spider-Man makes a particularly long leap, Wade whoops happily.
They land on a roof with a view of Central Park, and Wade climbs off, laughing. Then he feels suddenly self-conscious again, though, and starts tugging at his utility belt, pulling it downwards, as if it will cover the stain.
‘You okay?’ Spider-Man asks him, head cocked to one side.
Wade nods. ‘Yeah. Fine.’ A pause. ‘Sorry.’
Spider-Man shrugs. ‘Not your fault. Blame the woman who shot you in the head.’ He rubs the back of his neck and looks away. ‘I guess it never really occurred to me . . . You know, what your body actually goes through every time you get injured. I keep putting you in the line of fire, and I’ve never thought . . .’ He turns his eyes back on Wade. ‘It actually hurts, doesn’t it?’
Wade shifts uncomfortably. ‘I guess. I mean, my healing factor doesn’t make me impervious to pain, you know? But it’s okay. I’m pretty used to it, I don’t mind much. Some pain can be kind of sexy. Other kinds, not so much. Like growing back your intestines after being gored? Massively unpleasant. There tends to be puking blood involved. Aaaand I’m totally grossing you out, aren’t I? I’m sorry.’
‘No, don’t be!’ says Peter quickly. ‘I’m the one who should apologise. I’ve been letting you take bullets and all sorts, and never thought about the fact that being able to heal doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. I’m sorry.’
He cares! Spider-Man actually gives a shit about us!
Of course he cares. He cares about everyone. He’s a hero. That’s what heroes do.
But no one cares about us. No one’s cared in a long time . . .
Wade smiles and shakes his head slightly. ‘You really are one of the good guys, aren’t you? Either that or I’m hallucinating again, which to be fair is a definite possibility.’
Spider-Man chuckles. ‘You’re not hallucinating, Wade. At least I don’t think you are. Seriously, though, I’m gonna try harder not to put you in harm’s way unnecessarily, okay? I’ll think of better strategies that don’t rely on your healing factor so much.’
‘You don’t have to do that. I’m fine.’
‘Well, I want to. God knows you’ve experienced enough pain for fifteen lifetimes already.’
Fuck, he’s so noble. Like, who does he think he’s kidding? Nobody’s that fucking nice!
But he’s being nice to us! Isn’t that amazing?
‘I’m gonna hug ya now, Spidey,’ says Wade.
‘Okay,’ Spider-Man replies, and Wade puts his arms around him and pulls him into a tight embrace.
‘Would you be uncomfortable if I squeeze your ass?’ Wade murmurs into Spider-Man’s shoulder.
‘Yup.’
‘Even if it’s just a teeny, tiny squish?’
‘Definitely.’
‘Okay. I respect your boundaries.’
Spider-Man gives a snort of laughter. ‘You do? That’s new.’
‘What can I say? For you, baby boy, I’m willing to turn over a new leaf.’
‘That mean you’ll let go any time soon?’
Wade hugs him a little tighter. ‘No.’
‘. . . I’m not gonna punch you again, Wade.’
With a frustrated sigh, Wade lets go of Spider-Man and pouts at him through his mask. ‘Party pooper.’ He scratches his cheek absently. ‘I guess I should get home and clean the suit . . . Same time tomorrow?’
‘Sure,’ says Spider-Man. ‘See you then.’
—————
After rinsing it as best he can, Wade drapes his suit over a radiator to dry. Without putting on anything else, he settles into his nest of pillows and blankets, covering himself in warm softness. He doesn’t sleep every night. He doesn’t need to as his healing factor increases his stamina and halts fatigue, and his brain is in a constant state of repeated regeneration anyway, but tonight he’s tired. Which of course means that, try as he might, he simply cannot fall asleep.
Spiderman was nice to us! He was concerned about our wellbeing!
We’ve been over this. Hero, remember? It means nothing.
It has to mean something.
All it means is that he doesn’t consider us to be a bad guy.
See? Improvement! Besides, he wasn’t just nice, he was totally cool about the piss thing.
‘Shut up!’ Wade growls, covering his ears, which of course does no good at all.
We should play with that some more . . . On our own, obviously. The wetting thing. Holding it in is haaaaaard, though.
Wade groans and throws himself onto his back, staring up at the dark ceiling.
Ooh, idea! We could super-glue our dick shut! That would hold it!
That’s a terrible idea. How would we get it open again? Sharp pointy objects near dick equals not fun.
I thought we liked pain.
Sure, but not cutting-our-own-dick-off pain!
‘Seriously,’ Wade mutters, ‘it’s like my issues have issues. Would you shut up so I can sleep, or do I have to shoot myself in the head again? Cause one bullet to the brain in a night is really one too many, but I will make it two if it means I can get some fucking rest!’
That’s a little extreme, isn’t it?
We don’t like it when we blow our brains out . . . It’s like we disappear, and what if we don’t come back?
‘What a fucking loss . . .’ Wade grumbles. Then he sighs, too exhausted to go through with his threat. ‘Look, I just wanna sleep, okay? And preferably have sweet, wet dreams of one certain superhuman arachnid. That too much to ask?’
Mm, dreams of Spider-Man . . .
He’s got a pretty mouth. And soft, soft skin.
Wonder if his dick is bigger or smaller than ours?
Wonder what we could do to that dick . . . Or what it could do to us.
Wade whimpers involuntarily and feels his own cock twitch slightly. He lets his hand slide down to his crotch.
Who would top? Would we fuck his tight hole? Or do we want him to fuck us?
Never bottomed before, but if it was Spider-Man . . . Oh, we totally would.
It’s easy to imagine. Lips, tongue, hands. Bodies pressed together, with their suits as a protective layer covering Wade’s sores and scars. But then, this is a fantasy, so maybe Wade doesn’t have sores or scars? He pictures Spider-Man’s hands on his skin, miraculously smooth and clear again. Now they’re just two people, sharing touch. Lips pressed together, hearts hammering against one another, bodies entwined. Then Spider-Man whispers, ‘You’re so good, Wade. You’re doing so well. Come for me!’ and Wade does, jerking up into his own hand.
He should clean up, he knows that, but the aftermath of his orgasm leaves him blissfully exhausted. Ignoring the boxes, ignoring everything, he lets his eyes fall shut and drifts off to sleep. A few hours later he will wake up cold and sticky and in serious need of a shower, at which point he’ll probably get off again, just cause showers are a good place to do that, but for now wonderful, dreamless sleep awaits him. Tomorrow can wait until tomorrow. |
OMG, I left you guys hanging at chapter 6??? I am so sorry! I wrote a lot more of this, and then I dropped off the face of the Internet for like two and a half years...
The rest of the story isn't as omo as the start (though the endgame totally is), but I might as well give you guys the rest, assuming anyone still wants to read it.
Chapter 7
Wade pulls his gun and casually points it at the man’s head. He in turn is aiming his pistol at Spider-Man. His hands are shaking, and he’s sweating profusely. Clearly he hadn’t expected to end up in this situation. Hadn’t expected Spider-Man to turn up during his home invasion. However little he expected Spider-Man, though, he expected Deadpool less.
‘Drop. Your. Gun,’ says Wade in a deadly growl, and the man stiffens, turning his head slightly.
‘I . . . I’ll shoot him!’ he says frantically through his balaclava. ‘I-I’ll kill Sp-pider-Man if y-you don’t point that somewhere else!’
Spider-Man moves to kick the gun out of his hand, but in his agitated state the man is alert and his reflexes quick. He turns his eyes back on Spider-Man and grips his gun with both shaking hands.
‘D-don’t move! I’ll shoot! T-tell your friend to put his gun down and let me go, and n-no one gets hurt!’ The look in his eyes is wild.
‘Seriously?’ says Wade. ‘You’re making demands? You’re shitting yourself!’
‘Deadpool,’ says Spider-Man slowly, warningly. His tone softens as he speaks to the man before him. ‘You. Think about this, okay? You shoot me, there is no way you’re getting out of here. I can get my friend to back off, but only if you lower your weapon. So come on. Drop your gun.’
The man seems to hesitate, but then he grips his pistol tighter. ’N-no! I’m not going to jail! You let me go! Let me go or—’
Wade sees the man’s finger tighten on the trigger. Sees the way he steels his shoulders as he prepares to fire. This is a man who’s clearly never killed anyone before, but who’s done a lot of target practice, and he is clearly willing to discharge his weapon now, rather than risk jail. In an instant, Wade realises that this man would rather die than go to prison, and he’s willing to take Spider-Man with him.
Wade only has a split-second to react, and he’ll be damned if this motherfucker gets to shoot his Spidey. He pulls the trigger, beating the other guy to the punch.
Spidey’s gonna be so pissed.
The apartment’s resident, a tiny, elderly hispanic lady who’s been cowering on the far side of the room, screams as the robber’s blood, brains and bits of skull fragment splatter her floral patterned couch and light wood coffee table. An intricate doily is stained red.
‘Goddammit, Wade!’ Spider-Man yells angrily. Wade muses that that’s probably the worst curse word he’s heard the kid use. ‘We don’t kill people!’
Uh-oh . . .
Told ya.
‘He was about to pull the trigger!’ Wade shoots back. ‘I saved your life! Again!’
‘You could have incapacitated him some other way!’
‘Well, I chose this way!’
Spider-Man shakes his head. ’Christ, he wasn’t even . . . He was just some small-time crook down on his luck, not a hardened criminal or murderer! I could have talked him down!’
‘No, you couldn’t have. He was about to pull the trigger. I swear, I wouldn’t have shot him if he wasn’t. Anyway, can we talk about this later? We need to get out of here.’
Spider-Man crosses his arms. ‘We’re not going anywhere! We’re staying right here until the police show up so we can explain this mess.’
But we’re too pretty for jail!
‘S-señores?’ They both look up to find that the lady of the house has shuffled closer. She stares fearfully at the body on the floor, bleeding onto her carpet. ‘You go. I talk to police, you leave.’ Her accent is strong. She tears her gaze away from the corpse and looks between Spider-Man and Deadpool. ‘No trouble.’ Then she starts babbling in Spanish. Spider-Man looks bewildered, but Wade knows enough to understand.
‘She says we should leave before the cops show up,’ he translates. ‘She doesn’t want us to get in trouble.’
The woman nods. Then she clasps Spider-Man’s hand in both of hers and says, ‘Gracias, señor Spider-Man!’ She does the same with Wade. ‘Gracias, señor Deadpool!’
Spider-Man is so taken aback that he doesn’t argue when Wade grabs his hand and pulls him out of the window and onto the fire escape. He even lets Wade hop on his back, and then swings them a few blocks south, away from the sound of approaching police sirens, before landing on a quiet rooftop. Once Wade has climbed off, though, Spider-Man rounds on him, fists clenched.
He’s angry.
Duh!
‘This conversation isn’t over, Wade!’
Wade shrugs. ‘Didn’t think it was. But I stand by what I said before. He was gonna shoot you. I shot him first.’
‘In the head! You could have shot him in some other part of his body! You could have just wounded him!’
Spidey always gets so judgey and ungrateful when we save his life.
Wade scowls. ’Look, I know his type, okay? He would rather die than go to jail, and he was more than prepared to take you with him! Well, not on my fucking watch!’
Spider-Man shakes his head, scratching his forehead. ’You really don’t understand why what you did was wrong? After everything I’ve tried to teach you about being a hero, none of it actually sunk in?’
‘Lots of heroes occasionally unalive people! You think Wolverine’s stabby-claws are for tickling? You think Hawkeye’s arrows are tranquilliser darts? You think no one gets dead when the Avengers blow shit up?’ Wade clenches his fists and then relaxes them again. ‘Look, I saw a guy about to shoot the only friend I have, okay? So I shot him first. Because I’m not fucking losing you!’
They stand completely still, staring at each other for a few moments. Wade is panting, hands balled into fists. Spider-Man’s stance is guarded, defensive, but then his shoulders seem to relax somewhat.
‘Wade,’ he says softly, and the tone of his voice is almost pleading. Wade hates hearing that, doesn’t want Spidey to back down, ever, for any reason, wants him to always be strong, that’s why he—
That’s why we love him.
Exactly.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ Wade says abruptly, his tone harsher than he meant it to be. ‘I’ll never be a real hero. I know that.’ Then he turns around, walks to the edge of the roof and jumps. The landing breaks his legs in five places. He’ll walk it off.
————
It takes Peter a moment to gather his thoughts enough to run over to the edge of the roof and see Deadpool limping away. He wants to say something, or go after him, but he has no idea what he would say. When he thinks about the dead man they left behind in that apartment his anger rises to the surface once more. Wade has to understand that he can’t just go around killing people!
Of course, he hasn’t killed anyone in a long time. Not that Peter’s seen or heard of, anyway, and he’s pretty sure he hasn’t been taking any mercenary jobs. Thinking about it, Wade hasn’t killed anyone since the traffickers at the warehouse, and then he only did it because . . .
Peter shakes his head. It’s no excuse, and he doesn’t want to be partially responsible for the lives that Deadpool takes. Taking a life to save another doesn’t cancel out the deed. It just doesn’t.
And yet, Wade’s words echo in Peter’s head: ‘I’m not fucking losing you!’
Deadpool’s admiration for Spider-Man isn’t exactly a secret. There’s a reason why Wade came to him in the first place, asking Peter to teach him how to be a hero. He’s always flirted with him, and Peter’s put it down to a fanboy dude crush and not much else. To find that Wade actually earnestly wants to be his friend has been surprising enough on its own, but to learn that he actually cares, or at least thinks he does . . .
Peter’s spent a lot of time dismissing Deadpool—dismissing his wish to be a hero, his friendship, his advances. The first few times they met, Peter treated him with open contempt, and still he kept coming back, never dissuaded. Remembering the defeat in Wade’s rough voice as he said he knows he’ll never be a real hero puts a heavy, leaden lump of guilt in the pit of Peter’s stomach.
‘Crud!’ he mutters.
He sets course for the Bronx and Wade’s apartment. Going by web is faster than by foot, and when he gets there the place is dark and empty, so he sits on the fire escape and waits. He’s getting cold by the time the door finally opens, light spilling in from the landing, and Wade enters. His shoulders are slouched, and he doesn’t turn on the light. Instead he begins pacing back and forth in an agitated manner.
Peter feels suddenly awkward, like he shouldn’t really be here, and is debating how to make contact when Wade starts to remove his mask. Peter knows how uncomfortable he is showing his face to people, and it doesn’t feel right to let him do it, unaware that someone’s watching, so, steeling himself, Peter raps on the window pane with his knuckle.
————
‘I know I fucked up! Stop telling me!’
We didn’t fuck up, we did what anyone would have done!
No, we definitely fucked up, and Spidey hates us again. Or he pities us, which is even worse.
A sharp knock brings Wade out of his head as he freezes, mask halfway up his face, listening for the source. The window. He turns his head slowly, right hand flying to the hilt of one of his katanas.
Out on the fire escape sits Spider-Man. When Wade turns towards him he gives a little wave, and it’s like time stops.
What’s he doing here?
He wouldn’t come all this way just to yell at us some more, would he?
Open the window!
Open the window!
Wade lets go of his weapon and takes a hesitant step forward. He swallows twice, and then closes the distance, sliding the window open.
Spider-Man appears to be shivering slightly as he crawls inside, and now they’re standing there, facing each other on the cold floor of Wade’s shitty apartment, neither one seemingly able to come up with anything to say.
It’s Spidey who breaks the silence first. ‘Hey.’
‘Hey,’ Wade replies slowly.
Spider-Man shuffles his feet for a moment, looking uncomfortable. Then he says, ‘Listen—’
‘I’m not apologising,’ Wade interrupts him. ‘I’m not sorry I killed that guy. He was gonna kill you, and I’ll never let that happen, ever. But . . . But I’m sorry I upset you. I can never be like you. As much as I might want to, you’re right, everyone’s right, I’m not a hero. I could save the world and people would still hate me. Come to think of it, I have and they do. But it doesn’t matter. None of it matters. I just . . . If it comes down to killing someone or watching you die, I’ll choose killing, every time. Not cause I like it or cause I wanna kill, but because I could never let you die. That’s just . . . It’s a no-brainer, really. If that means we can’t . . . I mean, if you don’t want me around, then—’
‘Wade,’ says Spider-Man gently. ‘Shut up for a second, okay?’
Wade shuts his mouth and nods.
‘I’m sorry. I know that’s an impossible choice, and while it’s easy for me to gamble with my life, I can’t just expect you to take that gamble. So, I’m sorry I blew up.’
Wade blinks, and stares. ‘I . . . What? Now I know I’m hallucinating.’
Yup.
Yes, definitely hallucinating.
‘You’re not. I . . .’ Spider-Man pauses and appears to consider his words. ‘It’s unreasonable of me to expect a miracle. I’ve been holding you to a standard I wouldn’t hold anyone else to. You’re right. Sometimes heroes kill. We can try to be better than that, but the truth is . . . If I was faced with the choice between the life of an innocent and the life of a bad guy, if there was no other choice . . . Well, I guess you never know until you’re in that situation, really, and I . . .’ He heaves a frustrated sigh and falls silent.
‘So, you’re saying . . . You forgive me?’ Wade asks tentatively, hardly daring to hope for the answer.
‘It’s not even about forgiving you. I was wrong.’ Spidey reaches out and gives Wade’s upper arm a squeeze. ‘I was wrong, Wade. I’ve been so focused on black and white I forget there are shades of grey. I mean, you’re pretty much made up entirely of shades of grey, and you’re still my friend. Even if it is sometimes against my better judgment.’
Wade knows he’s missing the best set-up ever for a 50 Shades joke, but he just can’t right now. Instead he swallows again. His mouth feels dry and he clears his throat. ‘I’m . . . I’m your friend?’ It comes out as barely more than a whisper. Even the boxes are silent. ‘We’re friends?’
Spider-Man cocks his head to one side. ‘Of course we are. You’ve got my back, I’ve got yours, right?’
Wade nods, not trusting himself to speak. Something hot is spreading through his body, making every sound, every movement hyper-real, and he can hear his blood rushing in his ears. He and Spider-Man are friends. Spider-Man forgave him. He doesn’t hate him.
‘Okay, then,’ says Spider-Man and lets go of his arm. ‘I should get home. I’m expecting a tip-off on the hide-out of a drug cartel tomorrow, if everything goes according to plan. Think you’re up for kicking some butt?’
Wade nods again, finding his voice at last. ‘You bet. Always.’
‘Cool.’ Spider-Man crawls back out of the window and onto the fire escape, readying his web shooter. ‘See you tomorrow, then.’ Then he jumps and is gone. |
This chapter is gay af. Enjoy!
Chapter 8
Peter unlocks the door and enters. ‘Aunt May? You home?’ He still has a key, knows he’s still welcome whenever he wants, even though he’s moved out.
‘Peter?’ comes her voice from somewhere upstairs. ‘I’ll be right down, sweetheart!’ He can hear her footsteps on the stairs, and then she appears in the kitchen, bright eyed and smiling. Her silver hair is done up and she looks the same as ever.
Aunt May hugs him tightly, much stronger than she appears, and then looks up to examine his features with that piercing gaze of hers that reads secrets off his face like it’s a damn book. ‘Oh, it’s so good to see you! Feels like it’s been ages, doesn’t it?’ She gives him a shrewd look, and Peter runs a hand through his hair rather awkwardly.
‘Yeah, I’m sorry about that,’ he murmurs. ‘Things have been kind of crazy lately.’
‘Well, you’re here now.’ She smiles. ‘Come on, have a seat! I’ll make us some cocoa. You hungry? I think I have some leftover apple pie in the fridge . . .’
Sitting down at the table while Aunt May bustles around the kitchen makes Peter feel like he’s in high school again. Like he’s still just a kid, still just Peter Parker. He watches her fondly as she makes the cocoa and tells him about her day, responding only where it seems warranted. She heats two slices of apple pie in the microwave before topping them with scoops of vanilla ice cream, and then they’re sitting there, face to face with cocoa and pie between them.
‘So! How’s your day been, dear?’ Aunt May asks, lifting a piece of pie to her mouth with a fork. ‘Or should I say week, or month, perhaps?’
They used to do this all the time, every weekend, when Peter had just moved out, but over the years it’s become a far less regular occurrence. Peter feels guilty about that. He feels guilty about a lot of things.
‘It’s been okay. A lot going on. Got some really tough subjects this semester, so school’s pretty demanding. Then there’s work, but honestly I don’t even want to talk about that.’
Aunt May nods, taking a sip of her cocoa. ‘Mary Jane Watson came by here asking about you the other day,’ she says suddenly. ‘Seems she’s back in town. She said she hasn’t seen you in a while either.’
‘For obvious reasons,’ Peter mutters. Aunt May raises an eyebrow at him and he sighs. ‘Look, we split up, okay? Things are bound to be weird and awkward for a while and if I’m perfectly honest, I don’t really want to see too much of her.’
Aunt May sighs. ‘It’s been months, Peter. I’d hoped the two of you could at least be friends. You spend so much time alone . . .’
Peter hesitates. ‘I’ve actually made a new friend lately . . . Kinda.’
‘Oh? Someone from school?’
‘No, we . . . We work together occasionally. His name is Wade.’
She smiles warmly. ‘Well, I’m glad to know you’re making friends. What’s he like?’
‘He—’ Peter hesitates again. How would he even begin to go about describing Wade? ‘He’s . . . Kind of a loose cannon, actually. I mean, he’s nice, and he cares about me a lot, but he has . . . A lot of issues, I guess. He’s got practically no social skills, so most people don’t know how to act around him. He hasn’t really got a lot of friends, or family or, well, anyone.’
‘Sounds like you feel sorry for him.’
Peter frowns, picking at his pie with his fork. The melting ice cream forms rivers along the apple slices, turning into a lake on his plate. ‘That’s not really it. He’s helped me out in a lot of tight spots, and he . . . He looks out for me, to the point where he’s really protective. Sometimes he goes a little overboard, but . . . I dunno, I gotta admire his tenacity, you know? And when we just hang out, he’s like this huge teddybear, like he’s just the sweetest guy, even if he can seem kind of scary otherwise. We’ve got a lot in common,’ superpowers, secrets, hunting bad guys, ‘so talking to him is easy. So even though he’s got enough mental problems to fill up New York state and then some I, you know, trust him.’
Aunt May chuckles softly at this. ‘It’s so like you to look past what everyone else sees and just see the person underneath, Peter. This Wade is lucky to have you for a friend, and by the sound of things you’re pretty lucky to have him.’
Peter smiles and looks down at his melting ice cream. ‘Yeah,’ he says, nodding slowly. ‘I guess you’re right.’
—————
‘Damn, girl, you’ve got thighs of steel!’ Tonight’s villainess, top dog of a cell within a drug cartel, has her thick, muscular legs wrapped around Deadpool’s neck, in what is clearly an attempt to crush his windpipe. Of course, Wade being Wade, he keeps talking, though his breathing is growing slightly laboured. ‘Seriously, do you do pole dancing? Cause, fuck me, people would pay serious money for that shit! I mean, I’m impressed.’
‘Don’t you ever shut up?’ she growls through gritted teeth, twisting her lower body in a move that would break most people’s necks. Peter thinks he hears a crack, but of course Wade is still standing. She’s holding onto a metal pipe in the low ceiling of her basement hide-out, long dark hair coming loose from her tight pony tail and coffee and cream skin glistening with sweat.
‘He really doesn’t,’ Peter informs her while knocking out one of her lackeys with a well-aimed kick to the head.
‘Seriously, though, while normally I’d relish the thought of being between the thighs of a hot babe such as yourself,’ Wade huffs, clutching at her legs and trying to force them apart, ‘I’m afraid my heart belongs to someone else. I’m all about pecs and biceps these days, if you know what I’m saying. I mean,’ he utters a loud groan, trying to free himself, ‘you’re gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, and I’m all kinds of into bad girls, usually, but it’s just kind of a bad time . . .’ He glances at Peter over the top of her thigh. ‘Sweetums? Little help here?’
Peter has knocked out the last of the lackeys, so he doesn’t need to be asked twice. He jumps up onto drug lady’s back, prying her fingers off the pipe she’s been holding onto, and causing them all to topple over backwards. Peter lands hard on his back, the breath very nearly knocked out of him, but the move had the desired effect. In a final, desperate bid for escape the woman lets go with her thighs and tries to scramble over to the stairs on her hands and knees, but Deadpool is already on his feet and swiftly strikes her across the temple with the butt of his sidearm. She drops like a tonne of bricks, out cold.
‘She wasn’t kidding, though. You could pretty much talk people to death if you wanted to, couldn’t you?’ says Peter, getting to his feet. He’s a little winded but otherwise fine. ‘I mean, your guns and swords are just for show, really.’
‘It’s true,’ says Wade solemnly. ‘That’s my true super power. You were bitten by a radioactive spider, I was bitten by a radioactive talk show host. One that’s on really late and swears a lot.’
Peter frowns. ‘Wait, how do you know how I—’
‘Classic superhero origin story,’ says Wade dismissively, kneeling next to the now unconscious woman and searching her pockets. ‘Especially the ones that were invented in the fifties and sixties. Man, everything was about radiation back then! Mostly cause people didn’t understand nuclear power yet. Aha!’ He fishes her keychain off her belt and—while Peter webs her up with her lackeys, trying very hard not to try and make sense of Wade’s ramblings—walks over to a locked cabinet.
‘Let’s see what’s behind door number one!’ He fiddles with the keys for a moment, until he finds the right one, and then opens it up. Wade gives a whistle. ‘Jackpot! About twenty kilos of top grade cocaine! And . . . Ooh, what’s this?’ He turns around, a manila folder in his hand. ‘What do you wanna bet this has got info on her suppliers?’
Peter smiles. ‘Not bad! Leave that open. Police should be by pretty soon.’
‘Yes, sir!’ says Wade, and Peter can see his grin through the mask. As they head up the stairs he sighs wistfully. ‘Man, I miss drugs . . . I mean, my memories from before Weapon X are pretty vague and muddled, but still, I’m pretty sure I used to party. But the healing factor makes the whole thing kinda pointless, you know? I can’t even get drunk. My body just bypasses the whole drunk state and, if I drink enough, sends me right into the world’s briefest but also most intense hangover. It’s not pretty. And hallucinogenics are out, even if they worked there would be no point as it’s like I’m already constantly tripping balls . . .’
Peter laughs in spite of himself. He’s always been fairly anti-drugs, and didn’t even taste alcohol until he turned twenty-one, but somehow the whole conversation seems weirdly innocuous. Besides, he feels pretty good right now. They’ve just taken out a branch of a large criminal organisation, made New York that much safer, and didn’t have to kill or even seriously injure anyone to do it. He feels comfortable calling that a huge win.
They leave the scene on foot. Peter’s back is sore from the fall, so he’s not sure letting Wade piggyback would be a very good idea. Instead they climb up walls and parkour across the rooftops. They’re a block away by the time Peter starts hearing sirens in the distance.
‘Hey, Spidey,’ says Wade, ‘wanna call it a night and stop by my place for a beer?’
Peter finds himself smiling again. ‘Sure, why not?’ And they set course for the Bronx.
—————
Wade pulls two beers out of the fridge and tosses one to Peter, who catches it. It’s Canadian lager of some description. Peter pulls his mask up to his nose to take a sip, and has a sudden urge, not for the first time, to just take it off already. Say, ‘My name is Peter, by the way,’ and smile at Wade, show him that he trusts him.
But he’s kept his identity secret for this long for a reason. He has a responsibility to protect his identity in order to protect the people close to him. At the moment, that’s pretty much limited to Aunt May, but even so. It’s a tough habit to break.
Instead he takes a swig of his beer, watching Deadpool do the same.
‘Hey,’ he says suddenly, ‘if you can’t get drunk, why do you drink beer?’
Wade looks at him for a moment, and then just shrugs. ‘Beer is tasty. I can like something even if it doesn’t get me drunk, can’t I?’
‘Of course,’ says Peter, feeling slightly stupid, and to fill the silence he takes another large sip of the golden liquid.
‘Hey, Spidey,’ says Wade, ‘wanna show me your moves?’
Peter looks at him blankly. ‘Huh?’
‘We could spar! Just, for fun. Besides, I figure with alcohol in your blood is about the only time I stand a real chance of beating you in mano a mano.’ Wade grins widely. ‘Come on! It’ll be fun. No weapons, promise. And good practice for you, too, as you won’t have to hold back on the super strength. Can’t hurt me, anyway.’
Peter considers this for a moment, draining his bottle. Wade has a point. It’s not often he has the opportunity to train outside of a life and death situation. ‘Yeah, okay,’ he says in the end, and Wade whoops happily.
‘All right! We’ll go up to the roof. I’ll bring some more beer. This is gonna be epic!’
They scale the fire escape to the roof, and Wade sets down a few bottles in a corner. He discards his weapons next to them, and even takes off the belt of pouches around his waist. Then he stands facing Peter, a smirk on his lips. They’ve both still got their masks pulled up to their noses.
Without warning, Wade lunges at Peter with his fist raised. Peter side-steps, blocking with his forearm, and lands a light kick to Wade’s side. Wade laughs.
‘The hell was that, a love tap? Come on, baby boy, I told you you don’t need to hold back!’
Peter shrugs. ‘I thought we were just getting warmed up.’
Wade laughs again and beckons with his left hand. ‘Come at me, super-bro!’
Peter feints to the right, his dominant side, and at the last minute strafes left, bringing his fist up to Wade’s shoulder. He’s fast, but Wade adapts and blocks the incoming punch with little difficulty. Soon they’re trading punches and kicks at the speed of dancing. Wade’s clearly had martial arts training in the past, his moves quick and precise, and he’s almost as good at reading incoming attacks as Peter is. Where Peter notes the minute movements of musculature before a punch and dodges intuitively, Wade seems to have a different approach to reading his opponent’s moves, a keen and well trained eye. He takes calculated risks, occasionally taking a hit in order to return one with more force.
For the first time Peter understands why no one’s managed to take Wade Wilson down fully, why S.H.I.E.L.D hasn’t managed to bring him in yet. Deadpool’s healing factor isn’t the only thing he’s got going for him. Behind it lies both skill and intelligence that enables him to match punch for punch, kick for kick. It’s impressive, and the longer they fight, the less Peter feels the need to hold back. Soon he’s going all out, and Wade laughs gleefully every time a blow connects, his mouth running more or less constantly. Peter tries not to let it distract him.
‘Oho, that hit the spot!’ Wade says as Peter lands a particularly vicious punch to his stomach that knocks him backwards. He coughs once and is back on form again, taking advantage of the halt in flow to return the blow with a kick. ‘That’s what I’m talking about, baby, give it to me!’
Peter doesn’t know whether to laugh or blush, so he settles for catching Wade’s fist in his hand the next time it comes for him. With his other hand he grabs Wade’s wrist and pulls, while tripping him up and knocking him off his feet. Wade falls on his back with a loud, ‘Oof!’ but he has time to grab Peter’s wrist in turn and pulls him down with him. He rolls them over, so Peter’s on his back, and sits on his chest, pinning his arms to his sides with well toned thighs.
Bucking his hips, Peter tries to throw him off, but he’s got six foot two and two-hundred pounds of muscle sitting on his chest, and Wade grins down at him as the realisation seems to dawn on him that he’s winning.
Wade brings his face close to Peter’s, and for a moment Peter wonders if he’s about to kiss him. He finds that he’s strangely comfortable with the idea. Instead, Wade murmurs, ‘You give, baby boy?’
Later, Peter will probably blame the beer, or the adrenaline rush of the fight, or basically anything but his own will, but for now he stops struggling and, wiggling his torso slightly, manages to raise his shoulders off the ground and his face right up to Wade’s. Pausing only to give a slight smirk he whispers, ‘I give,’ and then closes the distance, meeting Wade’s chapped lips with his own. |
So much kissing.
—————
Chapter 9
Spidey’s kissing us!
Wait, why is Spidey kissing us?
Who the fuck cares? Spidey’s kissing us!
It is a doubtless reality that Spider-Man is indeed kissing Wade. At least it feels real, soft lips moving gently against his, noses bumping into each other occasionally, but Wade is having a hard time believing it. The move took him so much by surprise that it’s hard to process. The idea that this is a blissful hallucination or dream can’t seem to leave him, and subsequently his reciprocation is less enthusiastic than he wants it to be.
He wants to kiss the man beneath him back, hard. He wants to bury is tongue in his mouth, taste him, revel in him. He wants to run his hands across his body, feel taut muscles under his fingertips. But before he has time to get his ass, or indeed his brain, in gear to do any of these things, the kiss is over, too quickly.
Shit! What if we missed our shot?
Spidey moves beneath him, and Wade manages to slide backwards a bit so he can half sit, resting his weight on his elbows and forearms.
‘Hey.’ Spidey’s tone sounds hesitant. ‘You . . . You okay, Wade?’
The name rolls off his tongue so easily, so beautifully, and Wade wonders how he hasn’t noticed that before, how good his name sounds in Spider-Man’s tenor voice. A laugh bubbles up from out of nowhere, and he tries to stifle it, but it still comes out as a choked giggle, high pitched and quavery.
Real smooth, Wilson.
Wade ignores the box. ‘Yeah, man, I’m fine, I’m . . . Just trying to figure out which part of my subconscious just did a brain-fart, you know, cause I totally thought you just kissed me, which is just, I mean, it’s ridiculous, isn’t it, cause why the hell would you?’
Spidey smiles weakly, and Wade could swear his cheeks (the part of them Wade can see) have gone slightly pink. ‘Yeah, um . . .’ Spider-Man seems to hesitate and looks away. ‘I kind of did.’
‘Huh?’
‘Kiss you. I . . . kissed you.’
There must be something wrong with Wade. His boxes keep telling him so, and he usually ignores them, but now he’s forced to concede that there’s definitely something wrong with him, because he’s straddling Spider-Man, who just kissed him, in a dream scenario that he’s pictured in his head a million times in a million different ways, and he can’t for the life of him figure out what to do about it. He should be pushing Spidey down into the concrete rooftop, kissing him stupid, fucking into his mouth with his tongue and undressing him. But now that he’s in this situation, looking down at this man, this beautiful boy whom he’s been lusting after for as long as he can remember, probably longer than it’s been technically legal, he has no idea what to do with himself.
Wade swallows, and tries to speak, and then swallows again. Then he finally says, ‘You better not be messing with me, Spider-Man.’ His voice comes out quiet and a little shaky.
‘I’m not!’ says Spider-Man quickly, looking at him again. ‘I swear. I mean, I probably couldn’t tell you why I did it, I . . . I just did. It seemed like the thing to do, and I just kind of went for it and I thought you wanted it, but if you don’t, if you were just playing, that’s cool. I just—’
He’s rambling now, and his face is definitely a little red, and it’s so adorable that Wade throws caution to the wind, forgets to be scared, and presses his lips up against Spider-Man’s, cutting him off mid-sentence.
There’s a long, frozen moment in which they stay like that, chaste, lips touching and not much else, and then Spider-Man’s lips begin to move against Wade’s. He lifts one hand, grasping the back of Wade’s neck a little harder than necessary, his gloved thumb caressing Wade’s scarred jawline, and Wade is lost.
The boxes are silent, or if they’re still talking Wade can no longer hear. All there is, right now, is Spider-Man’s firm body beneath him, the pressure of his palm on Wade’s neck, and his mouth. Oh, fuck, that mouth!
Wade moves with the kiss, opens his mouth and licks at Spidey’s lips experimentally, testing boundaries. Spider-Man’s response is immediate. His lips part and his tongue flicks out to clash with Wade’s. Spider-Man’s mouth tastes like lager, and something sweet and slightly tangy that Wade can’t identify. His lips are so soft, and Wade moans into the kiss as the realisation hits him that this is happening, he’s kissing Spider-Man, this is really, truly happening!
With a soft growl, Wade slides his hands around Spider-Man’s torso and pulls him up into a sitting position. He tightens his embrace, pulling him flush against him, and Spidey utters a groan of surprise, deepening the kiss. His arms are now around Wade’s shoulders and neck, one hand cradling the back of his head. Wade takes the opportunity to slide his hands up and down the smooth muscles of Spider-Man’s back. The boy is slim enough that he can feel his shoulder blades and the ridge of his spine. Wade wants to take off his gloves, but he also doesn’t want to freak Spidey out with the touch of his scarred hands. He doesn’t want to think about that, about how at any moment Spidey may realise that this is Deadpool he’s kissing, and that this is not an attractive body he’s got in his lap. Wade pushes the thought to the back of his mind. He’ll have this moment, no matter what happens later.
As he thinks this, Spider-Man releases his lips and begins to kiss a trail along his jaw and down to his semi-exposed throat, caressing his scars with lips and tongue. Wade groans loudly. This is giving him a raging hard-on, and in their current position he’s sure Spider-Man can feel it against his lower abdomen, but he seems to take no notice. The other’s teeth graze the flesh over his jugular, and Wade moans, feeling his cock twitch in his pants. Spider-Man chuckles softly before licking the spot.
’Shit, Spidey!’ Wade all but whimpers. ‘Feels so fucking good . . .’
Spider-Man pulls away for a moment, panting slightly, and looks up at Wade, licking his lips. He seems to hesitate for a second, but then he clears his throat and says, oh so softly, ‘My name is Peter.’
Wade blinks, frozen for an instant, gazing down on Spidey’s lips as he says the words. Peter. His name is Peter. Wade swallows heavily, and finds that his breathing has become laboured while he had his attention elsewhere.
‘Peter?’ he repeats in barely more than a whisper, and Spider-Man nods. ‘Peter,’ Wade says again, slower this time, tasting the name on his tongue. His name is Peter. Peter. Saying it feels good, so he says it again, louder, his voice rumbling low in his chest this time. ‘Peter.’
Spider-Man—no, Peter smiles up at him, and now they’re kissing again, and Wade feels like he never ever wants to stop kissing Peter. Not ever.
Even through the combined layers of their suits, Peter is so warm, and he smells of soap and clean sweat. When Wade mimics him and half kisses, half licks along his jaw he finds that the smooth skin tastes slightly salty, with a sweetness underneath. There’s the barest hint of stubble, rough on Wade’s lips and tongue, contrasting with the softness of the rest of his skin.
He savours all of it, storing each sensation, each taste and smell, away in his mind to be remembered always, because even though they’ve been doing this, making out like teenagers, for going on twenty minutes now, he still keeps expecting it to stop at any moment, for Peter to come to his senses and realise that making out with Deadpool is crazy. Wade hardly dares to hope that this isn’t some crazy dream, some fantasy hallucination his mind’s cooked up for him, let alone that it will ever happen again or turn into something more.
A hundred different fantasies, involving at least two-hundred weird, fucked up kinks and fetishes, roll through Wade’s mind and he’s absolutely sure that he’ll trade all of them, forget them forever and leave any chance of them ever happening behind if they can just keep doing this, if he can just keep holding Peter in his arms, can just keep kissing him for five minutes longer. This, this moment, is the most perfect moment of Wade Wilson’s miserable existence. This, right here, is all he could ever wish for, and he will cherish it until the day he dies, which is promising to be a really long time.
After what could just as easily be hours as minutes, they break apart, both panting, Peter’s lips red and raw from all the kissing. He slides a gloved finger underneath his mask and licks his lips. Then he moves his other hand to the back of his head and pulls. Wade gapes in astonishment as Peter pulls his mask all the way off to reveal soft hazel eyes and messy brown hair. The New York City light pollution paints him in a golden glow. The skin of his face is smooth, young, though the corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles, and Wade is torn between attacking his lips again and continuing to admire this gorgeous visage. He counts fifteen freckles in the dim light, takes it all in hungrily, stowing it away in his head to savour later. Every eyelash, every slight blemish that makes Peter’s face so imperfectly perfect.
‘Fuck,’ Wade whispers, and clears his throat because his voice sounds dry. ‘Peter, I knew you were hot, but I didn’t know you were . . . Shit, you’re so fucking beautiful!’ The words come tumbling out before he has time to process them in his head, as is frequently the case, and he feels his face warm.
Thankfully, Peter blushes as well, clearly not used to such compliments, and Wade feels his courage slowly returning.
‘I mean,’ he continues, ‘I always figured you liked pretty ladies. I like pretty ladies, too, and hot guys. Depending on the situation I can like anyone. Not that you’re just anyone, I mean . . . But if you like pretty ladies, I can try to be one. Maybe not so much the pretty part, but I have some frilly dresses I could put on and stuff, if you’re into that. What I’m saying is I can be a lady if that’s what you—’
Peter laughs softly and places a finger on Wade’s lips to silence him. ‘I don’t need you to be a lady, Wade. I just need you to be you. Okay?’
Wade falls silent and nods, the overwhelming urge to lick the gloved finger on his lips kicking in, but he stops himself, unsure of whether they’re at the finger licking stage of this relationship yet. Instead he swallows, and when Peter pulls his hand back, says, ‘We could go back downstairs, if you want . . .’
Peter looks at him, still smiling, and then gazes up at the sky. The eastern horizon is lightening just a fraction. He sighs. ‘It’s getting late. Or early, as the case may be. I think . . . I think maybe I should get going soon.’
Wade feels his heart sink and looks away, trying to hide his disappointment. ‘Oh. Yeah. Of course.’
‘Wade.’ He turns his eyes back on Peter and finds his expression soft and kind. ‘I’m not brushing you off, okay?’ He touches the palm of his hand to Wade’s cheek, stroking gently with his thumb. Wade leans into the touch. ‘I just have to get up in the morning,’ Peter continues. ‘So, rain check?’
Wade nods. There’s a lump in his throat and he doesn’t trust himself to speak. He swallows again, and nods yet more vigorously, causing Peter to chuckle.
Leaning in, Peter kisses him again. It’s soft and chaste and absolutely magical, and Wade damn near whimpers again, because something about the way Peter is kissing him makes him feel more alive and more real than he’s felt in what must be years.
Pulling back, Peter says, ‘Okay, then. See you tomorrow?’
Wade nods again. ‘Yeah,’ he manages to say, in a voice that’s close to breaking.
He stands up, and pulls Spider-Man—Peter—to his feet. After giving him one final peck on the lips, Peter pulls his mask back on and walks over to the edge of the roof, readying his web shooter. Then, looking back over his shoulder, he says, ‘Good night, Wade,’ and is gone. |
Smut!
Chapter 10
Peter thinks he may be having some kind of psychotic break. It’s not because he decided to tell Deadpool his real first name and show him his face, though this is cause for concern in and of itself. It’s not even because he spent a good portion of last night making out with the man, a tongue-wrestling session instigated by him, Peter. No, the reason why Peter suspects he may have once and for all completely lost his mind is because he has every intention in the world of doing it all over again tonight.
He realises as his mind wanders in class, that he’s never really liked another guy before. For the most part, he’s tended to fall in love with people and then have eyes for no one else. So far, those people have been of the female persuasion. The idea of falling for a guy has never really occurred to him before, and before last night he hadn’t even realised that that’s what was happening.
Is that what’s happening? Is he falling for Wade Wilson? The thought is a strange and slightly disconcerting one.
He’s seen Wade without his Deadpool mask several times, though Wade prefers to keep it on. He knows what Wade’s skin looks like, knows how marred it is by scars and sores. Rationally, Peter knows that should turn him off. (It’s comforting that he can still think about all of this rationally.) But when they kissed last night, it didn’t even occur to him. Peter pressed his lips to Wade’s skin, and those scars might as well not have been there. It felt good. It felt intimate. Because it was Wade.
Peter shakes his head, and realises with a jolt that he’s more than a little bit turned on. He feels his face flush, and looks around as though someone might be watching him, as though some classmate can tell, but of course no one’s paying attention to him, too busy focusing on the lecture on molecular biology. The lecture that Peter should be paying attention to as well. But Peter’s head is elsewhere, full of thoughts and ideas he can’t explain to himself, let alone expel in favour of actually learning something.
There is so much wrong with this. There are so many reasons why all of this is a really, really bad idea, not least of which is the fact that Peter knows literally nothing about Wade, other than that, oh yeah, he’s a freaking mercenary who’s killed hundreds, maybe thousands of people for money. He also knows that Wade loves tacos, really identifies with The Little Mermaid, and drinks beer because it tastes good. And he knows that Wade is totally crazy about him and is a really, really good kisser . . . This is more, he realises, than Wade actually knows about him. They don’t even know each other’s ages, though Peter is pretty sure Wade is quite a bit older than he is. Yeah, everything about this . . . whatever it is . . . is a huge mistake, and a toddler could see it.
In spite of all these not inconsiderable misgivings, however, all Peter can think about is seeing Wade later. They’ll patrol together, and then . . . What then? His mind can come up with several enticing scenarios that put butterflies in his stomach and make him squirm in his seat. He really hasn’t wanted anyone like this since . . . Well. This isn’t the time to consider past loves or the regrets that come with them.
The lecture ends, and Peter hurries out of the auditorium, narrowly avoiding being cornered by the professor who’s been trying to get him to do a presentation for the class ever since he handed in his first assignment of the semester.
It’s a quiet night. Peter worried that things would be awkward, but when they meet up Wade is his usual self and acts as professional as he gets. They patrol for a couple of hours, intervening and stopping a couple of fights, but there’s not really much going on.
When it starts to seem like crime’s taken a vacation in NYC tonight, Wade says casually, ‘So . . . Wanna spar again?’
Peter laughs softly. ‘I think we both know where that will lead.’ It’s a lot more straight forward and flirty than he usually is. Peter’s always been awkward in these situations, but Wade makes him feel bold.
Wade shrugs one shoulder. ‘Well, I guess if you want we could just skip the sparring . . .’
‘Buy me dinner first,’ Peter quips, unable to keep the smile out of his voice.
‘Actually, that’s not a terrible idea,’ says Wade after a few moments. ‘I’m pretty hungry. There’s this all night Mexican place I know about. Really awesome chimichangas! Wanna get something to eat?’
Peter only needs a moment to consider this. ‘Sure, why not?’
Trust Deadpool to be able to keep chattering through mouthfuls of deep fried burrito. Peter mostly eats and listens. They sit on a rooftop, because rooftops are apparently their thing. Wade talks about guns, food, mercenary jobs he’s had (mostly the less violent ones), with the occasional comment aimed at nobody in particular. In other words, Wade’s being Wade, and there’s something deeply comforting about that.
When the food is gone, Wade falls silent for a little while, looking at Peter through the white lenses of his mask, a thoughtful expression around his exposed mouth. ‘So,’ he says finally, his voice a deep, soft rumble, ‘what do you wanna do now, Peter?’
It’s the first time he’s said Peter’s name since last night, and Peter feels warmth radiate from somewhere in his chest. He shifts slightly as a million thoughts go through his head. Wade waits for him to speak, fidgeting a bit where he sits. Jittery. A little nervous, perhaps?
Making up his mind, Peter speaks. ‘We could go to my place.’
For a moment, Wade just stares. Then he looks around, almost like he’s expecting an ambush. He mutters, ‘Yeah, I think he actually said that . . . Did you actually say that?’ The last bit appears to be aimed at Peter, who nods. Wade returns the nod, swallows and says, ‘Okay.’
They travel by web, Peter choosing his familiar routes, out of the way so they’re unlikely to attract attention. They land in an alley next to Peter’s building and scale the fire escape in silence. Once on the correct floor, Peter leaves Wade for a moment, climbing the brick wall to the window he leaves ajar when he goes out as Spider-Man. Part of him can’t believe he’s about to let Deadpool into his apartment. He climbs inside and goes to open the window by the fire escape.
As the window slides open, Wade looks around before leaning in and pressing his lips to Peter’s through their masks. It’s an oddly sweet gesture, bordering on domestic. Then he climbs inside, and Peter shuts the window.
They stand there for a moment, Wade looking around. Peter’s apartment is small—smaller than Wade’s, but a lot better kept. The main space, which they’re standing in, is a combined kitchen and living room, while doors at one end lead off into the bedroom and bathroom. The bedroom door is ajar. Peter lights the lamp behind the couch, casting the room into soft, warm light.
‘Nice place,’ says Wade. ‘Your couch looks comfier than mine.’ He nods towards the furniture in question.
‘Feel free to try it out to compare,’ Peter replies. ‘Would you like something to drink?’
‘Uh, sure.’
Wade sits down on the couch while Peter walks over to the fridge, taking his mask off as he goes and leaving it on the kitchen counter. He opens the fridge and looks inside. He didn’t really plan for this, and consequently doesn’t have any beer, but there’s a big bottle of some generic brand orange flavoured soda, so he gets that out and picks two glasses out of the cupboard on the way back to the couch. Once there, he finds Wade staring at him.
‘Um,’ says Peter, setting down the glasses and the bottle, ‘you mind if I just go get changed?’
‘Huh? No. That’s fine.’
‘Okay. Help yourself to soda.’ Peter smiles.
He goes into the bedroom and closes the door behind him. The jeans and t-shirt he wore earlier are still on the bed, and he changes quickly. His brain is working in overdrive. Wade Wilson is sitting out there, in his living room. He has invited Deadpool into his home. If anyone else in the superhero community could see him now, they’d think he’d gone completely insane. He can’t quite rule out the possibility that they’d be right.
Peter walks barefoot back out into the living room, where he finds Wade still sitting on the couch. He hasn’t poured himself soda, but he’s discarded his weapons on the floor next to him. Hesitating only for a second, Peter sits down next to him and pours soda into both their glasses. They each take a drink, Wade pulling his mask up to his nose again, and then replace the glasses on the coffee table.
Peter looks over at Deadpool and, without giving himself much pause for thought, leans in and kisses him.
Wade makes a sharp intake of breath as their lips touch, but this time he wastes no time in kissing Peter back, greedily lapping at his lips with his tongue, and Peter parts them for him, taking that tongue into his mouth. He strokes Wade’s cheek with his hand, feeling the rough, scarred skin under his fingers. He finds that it doesn’t bother him in the least, and he swings one leg over Wade’s lap for better access, licking into his open mouth. Wade grips his hips, squeezing. Peter moans softly at the touch.
After some moments, he pulls away a little, tracing the seam of the red and black mask with his forefinger. ‘May I?’
Wade utters a grim laugh, looking away. ‘Can’t see why you’d want to. It’ll just kill the mood . . .’
‘It won’t,’ Peter promises, and presses a gentle kiss to Wade’s cheek. ‘Please?’ he whispers against his skin. ‘I want to see your eyes.’
Wade hesitates for a moment longer. Then he nods, and Peter pulls the mask off, slowly. The scars and sores it reveals should give him pause, but they don’t. Instead, Peter is one hundred percent focused on the warm brown eyes that appear from under the fabric. Those eyes stare into his, and Peter smiles.
‘Hey. There you are.’ He brings both hands to Wade’s face, running his fingers over his cheeks and his jaw, stroking his bottom lip with one thumb. Wade shuts his brown eyes with a sigh.
‘Warm,’ he says softly, his breathing heavy. ‘You’re so warm. Haven’t . . .’ Wade hesitates, works his jaw for a moment. ‘Not in a long time.’
Peter kisses him again, fiercely, trying to convey through that kiss how little he cares about how he looks. How little any of that matters. That what truly matters is Wade’s heart. He doesn’t even bother to feel like an idiot for thinking anything so cheesy. He just kisses Wade like there’s nothing else in the world.
Moving his hips a little, Peter is unsurprised to find Wade’s body responding. Truth be told, he’s getting pretty turned on himself, though he’s not entirely sure what to do about it. This is all pretty new to him, after all. He wants to touch Wade, touch him all over. The thought makes his pulse speed up, and he presses his body tight against Wade.
His movements seem to have spurred Wade into action, and the older man has begun to slide his gloved palms up and down Peter’s sides and back. He breaks the kiss and moves his mouth down to Peter’s neck, licking and biting just a little bit. Peter releases a soft moan, and Wade groans in the back of his throat in response. He slides his fingers through Peter’s dark hair.
Peter takes one of Wade’s hands, and Wade pauses to look at him. Slowly, his eyes locked to Wade’s, Peter removes the glove to reveal a strong, scarred, long fingered hand. Wade makes to pull his hand away, but with silent determination, Peter brings it up to touch his face, pausing to kiss the rough palm on the way. Wade’s breath hitches in his throat as his palm touches Peter’s skin, but their eyes remain locked while Peter removes the second glove before leaning in to kiss him again.
Wade makes an oddly pleading noise, somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and Peter decides he’d really like to hear that again, so he grinds his hips against Wade’s, producing yet another sound against his lips, as Wade’s breathing grows heavier still. Peter smiles into the kiss. There is want and need in Wade’s movements and the sounds he makes. He likes that.
‘Fuck, baby boy!’ Wade gasps when they next come up for air. ‘You have no idea what you’re doing to me . . .’
‘I think I can make an educated guess,’ Peter murmurs against his cheek, and once again feeling inexplicably bold, reaches down and palms Wade through his pants. Wade swears loudly. ‘Mm, yeah. As I thought.’ Peter gives a gentle squeeze.
‘Fuck, fuck, shit!’ Wade closes his eyes. ‘I’m dreaming. I’ve been dreaming since last night. This just can’t be happening, it doesn’t make sense, I can’t the this lucky!’
‘Wade?’ says Peter kindly, and Wade opens his brown eyes again, the look in them slightly dazed. ‘Shut up?’
Wade shuts his mouth and nods, and then, possibly just for something to do, he pulls Peter tight against him, running his hands up his back under his t-shirt and kissing his neck. Peter puts his arms around Wade in turn, the touch of chapped lips and rough fingers enticing another moan from him.
Suddenly he’s on his back on the couch, and Wade is kissing him again, pushing his t-shirt up and sliding his fingers across his skin.
‘So soft,’ he murmurs, moving to kiss Peter’s chest. ‘Your skin . . . It’s so soft and warm and you’re so gorgeous, fuck . . .’ He flicks his tongue out over Peter’s nipple, and Peter gasps. ‘So fucking hot,’ Wade mumbles into his skin. He kisses lower and lower until he reaches the waistband of Peter’s jeans. Then he looks up at him with earnest brown eyes. ‘Can I . . . ?’ He seems to hesitate, and then stutters out the rest of his request. ‘Can I, just, I want to touch you . . .’
Peter’s never been the type to go to third base on the first date, but nothing about this is typical. He draws in a deep breath and licks his lips before nodding. ‘Okay.’
Unbuttoning Peter’s jeans, Wade pulls them down past his hips before sliding his fingers into the waistband of his boxers. His hands are shaking with apparent nervousness as he pulls down Peter’s boxers as well, to reveal his dick.
‘Beautiful,’ he murmurs, and takes Peter in his hand, stroking slowly. Peter’s head falls back and he groans. Wade’s rough, strong hand feels so good. His touch makes everything else melt away, and Peter shuts his eyes for a few moments, revelling in the feel of it.
Then Wade’s hand is replaced with something warm and wet, and Peter’s eyes shoot open.
Peter doesn’t swear, not in any way that matters. He limits his exclamations to the kindest and least offensive words he can come up with. He doesn’t like swearing, was brought up not to do it. It is a testament, therefore, to how amazing Wade’s mouth is that Peter, without thinking, cries, ‘Holy shit!’ He looks down at Wade, at his soft brown eyes, in awe and amazement. Then Wade does something with his tongue, and Peter whimpers, one hand clutching at the seat cushion underneath him and the other cradling Wade’s bald head. ‘Oh, God . . . Wade . . .’
Wade responds to the sound of his name with a groan that seems to reverberate through Peter’s dick and into his whole body. Peter hasn’t been touched by anyone but himself in months, and though this is far from his first blow-job, he’s pretty sure he’s never had one quite like this. Wade appears to have no gag reflex, swallowing Peter whole. Peter’s warning of, ‘Wade, stop, I’m gonna—’ is too late, and his body stiffens and stills as he comes in Wade’s mouth with a loud groan. |
More smut! And a guest star.
Chapter 11
Wade swallows, the taste of cum salty and bitter-sweet on his tongue, and hums appreciatively.
Kink list entry #3458: Semen.
Mmm, semen . . .
Wade ignores the voices in his head, and instead looks down at Peter, who’s staring up at him from where he’s sprawled on the couch, wide-eyed and panting. He looks dishevelled, his fringe sticking to his sweaty forehead and hair sticking up at the back. He’s never looked more gorgeous. His pupils are blown and he blinks slowly.
‘Sorry!’ he says suddenly, coming back to his senses and sitting up. ‘Oh, God! Sorry, sorry, sorry!’
‘What for?’ Wade asks.
‘I, I should have warned you or, or . . .’ Peter looks away. If he were a puppy his ears would be drooping in shame. It’s adorable. ‘I feel like such a kid.’
‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,’ says Wade flatly. ‘And you’re not a kid. That would be gross. Anyway, the whole point was to make you cum, duh.’ He watches Peter’s face flush scarlet with great relish and grins at him, shaking his head. ‘You are so hot!’
I still say we’re dreaming. Shit like this just doesn’t happen to us.
I dunno. Semen tasted pretty real to me.
‘Shut up,’ Wade mutters, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling.
Peter appears to have regained some of his composure, however, because he’s smiling shyly again now, and soon he’s kissing Wade once more, greedily licking into his mouth, and his hands make their way down Wade’s body, touching him through the fabric of his suit.
‘Well, then I guess I should return the favour,’ he murmurs. Without ceremony, he unbuckles Wade’s belt and slips his hand down his pants, groping, and Wade hisses, closing his eyes.
‘Fuck, Peter . . .’
‘I’m not . . .’ Peter seems to hesitate. ‘I mean, I’ve never—’ He makes a frustrated noise and gives Wade’s dick a few loose strokes. ‘I don’t think I can do more than this for now, I’m sorry.’
Wade shakes his head. ‘Sorry? Ain’t no sorry, Petey, this is awesome. I mean, shit . . .’ His breath hitches. The touch of Peter’s hand feels like the good kind of fire, strong and intense, and so hot. Then Peter rubs his thumb over the head of his cock, spreading pre-cum over it, and Wade lets out a loud, drawn out, ‘Fuuuuck!’
His hips buck, and Peter presses his lips to his throat, teeth scraping over his Adam’s apple. Wade isn’t sure what to do with his hands, so he reaches out for the boy before him, sliding one hand into his hair and touching that beautiful face with the other. He brings Peter’s face close and kisses him.
There is so much kissing going on, like when do we get to the fucking?
When Spidey’s good and ready for it. This is his show. And we’re about to cum, anyway.
We are? When?
Right about . . . Now!
Wade shudders and groans, jizz spilling out of him, covering Peter’s hands and staining the suit. Peter is gaping at him, as though astonished that he could make that happen. When it’s over, and Wade has relaxed somewhat, Peter lifts his hand curiously to his mouth, licks at a strand of semen, and makes a face.
Wade laughs breathlessly. ‘Acquired taste.’
‘Mm.’ Peter wipes his hand on his t-shirt. Then he stands up, pulling his pants back on, and walks over to the kitchen counter to get a roll of paper towels. He grabs a few and hands the roll to Wade, and they clean themselves up a little. Then they sit back down on the couch. Their glasses of orange soda are still sitting on the coffee table, barely touched.
‘So, that was pretty awesome,’ says Wade, to break the silence. ‘I mean, wow. You give good hand jobs, dude.’
Peter chuckles softly. ‘I’m glad you approve. I mean, I wanted to . . .’ His cheeks turn slightly pink. ‘Well. Next time.’
Wade feels a jolt go through his stomach and chest. ‘So, there’s gonna be a next time?’ he asks, his voice a little higher than he means it to be.
‘If you want to,’ says Peter softly, looking intently at his glass.
Wade laughs. ‘You’re seriously asking me that? Man, I can’t even . . . Petey-Pie, you’re the hottest, most awesome person I’ve ever been around. Shit, if I had my way I’d never do anything other than make out with you.’
‘Yeah?’ Peter glances at him with his hazel eyes and smiles. ‘It was pretty awesome,’ he admits after a moment. ‘I mean, God, your mouth . . .’
‘They don’t call me the Merc with the Mouth for nothing.’ Wade shrugs.
While that’s true, I don’t think our mad blow-job skills were first on people’s minds when they came up with that particular moniker.
Well, it will be now.
Peter bites his lip. ‘So . . . You’ve been with a lot of guys, then?’
Wade scoffs. ‘Have you seen me, baby boy? You think I get laid a lot?’ He pauses. The truth is he has no idea how many people he’s been with, of either gender. Pre-Weapon X, his memories are still hazy, and post he still hasn’t figured out exactly which memories are real and which were put in his head by Butler, or how many the Tabula Rasa drug has made him forget. He’s paid for sex more than a few times, out of loneliness or sheer frustration. He knows that’s true, because the trail of money is easy to follow.
He sighs. ‘Look. I flirt with people, and I’m good at it, but usually, once I show my face, people run for the hills, right? I’ve got no illusions about what I look like. I used to have this holo imager thing that could make me look normal for a bit, purely cosmetic, but I lost it ages ago. Wish I could give you something nicer to look at than this mug.’ He smiles sardonically.
Peter just shakes his head, though. ‘Don’t even talk like that. In case it hadn’t already occurred to you, I couldn’t care less about any of that. I think you’re totally hot!’ He reaches out and cups Wade’s scarred cheek. ‘You gotta believe me, Wade.’
Wade swallows, and when he speaks it’s with a lump in his throat, and he thinks his voice sounds weird. ‘I’d probably believe anything you say, except maybe that.’
‘Well, then I’ll just have to make you believe,’ Peter murmurs and leans in to kiss him again.
Entering his apartment at five in the morning, after talking and making out and just hanging with Peter all night, Wade immediately and instinctively knows that something isn’t quite right. He halts in the doorway, searching the darkened room.
We’re not alone.
There’s something—someone—on his couch, sitting quietly in the dark. Wade reaches back for the hilt of one of his blades with his right hand and flicks the light on with his left. He relaxes his grip on his sword as the light reveals the figure on the sofa.
‘Wade,’ says a deep, growling voice.
Wade closes the door behind him and saunters over to the battered old fridge in the corner of the room. The actual kitchen is a bio hazard zone and he hasn’t been in there since he moved in. He takes out two beers and tosses one to his guest, who catches it effortlessly.
‘Logan,’ he says at last, twisting the cap off his bottle. ‘Long time, no see. To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?’
Wolverine takes a sip of his beer, making a grimace. He’s in civvies, jeans and a tank top under an open, grey and black checkered flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He looks like a short, furry lumberjack. ‘I was in the neighbourhood. Thought I’d drop in, see how you were doing.’
Oh, sure. Wolverine just wanted to ‘drop in’.
‘Oh, I’m just peachy!’ Wade grins, leaning against the wall. ‘How are you? How’s that charming, homicidal son of yours?’
Logan sets down his beer and rests his elbows on his knees. ‘Still homicidal.’
‘Good for him! Now, enough with the small talk. Why are you really here?’
Logan scratches the back of his head and sighs dramatically. ‘Why do I ever seek you out on purpose? There’s trouble brewin’, Wade, and I’m pretty sure it’s comin’ your way.’
Ooh, trouble! We like trouble!
Little bit of trouble never hurt anyone with a healing factor as sick as ours.
Wade snorts and takes a swig of his beer. ‘That’s it? There’s always someone after me, Logan. Wouldn’t have it any other way. It keeps things interesting. What, did someone order a hit on me again?’
Logan shrugs one shoulder. ‘Dunno. Haven’t checked. What I do know is I fought a guy a few days ago who had some interesting things to tell me regarding Weapon X, that there are serious anti-mutant and mutate vibes going on, that mutants are losing their powers all over the place, and that shit storms like this always seem to catch up with you sooner or later. Thought I’d give you a heads up.’
Wade raises an eyebrow and smirks. ‘So, what, it’s team-up time again?’
Logan scoffs. ‘Hell no. I got my own shit to deal with, and you seem to have a decent team-up going on right now anyway.’
Wade grins. ‘Yeah, Spidey’s been teaching me to be a hero!’
Logan raises a bushy eyebrow. ‘That so?’
‘Yeah. And he’s got my back if shit blows up. I’m not too worried.’
‘You sure about that?’ Wolverine sniffs the air. ‘Smells to me like you got someone else to worry about for once, even if you’re not worried about yourself. You say he’s got your back, but have you got his? Unless my senses are failin’ me, you got Spider-Man’s scent all over you.’
Uh-oh. Busted!
Wade looks away. ‘Whatevs! You have any idea how creepy that smell thing of yours is?’
Logan shrugs. ‘Jussayin’. As someone who’s been straddling the hero-villain fence for most of your life, you’re the embodiment of what these anti-mutant assholes fear the most; heroes going bad.’
‘But I’m not even a mutant! I’m a mutate!’
‘Think those fuckers know that, or care? And as long as this little team-up of yours continues, you’re putting Spider-Man at risk, too.’
‘Yeah, well . . . If you’re so worried about all this, you should go talk to your Dark Avenger boy about it, Logan. He oughta be a prime target.’
‘Already done. Why’d you think I was in New York in the first place?’ Logan drains his beer bottle in a few gulps and stands up. ‘Well, it was nice catchin’ up. Go easy on the kid, won’t you? Seen him fight. He’s good people.’
Wade’s expression softens. ‘Yeah. He is.’
Logan gives him a non-committal wave and saunters over to the door. Wade watches him go, eyes narrowed. Logan wouldn’t show up unless he actually thinks it’s important. Wade knows that, and the thought makes him uneasy.
So, should we be worried?
No! We’re not worried! Are we?
‘Not worried,’ says Wade slowly. ‘Just . . . cautious. Best keep my eyes open.’
And watch Peter’s back a little extra.
Yeah, but we do that anyway. His back is right above his ass.
True dat.
Wade sighs and shakes his head. No use worrying about it all right now. He hasn’t slept in a few days. Now might be a good time to catch some shut-eye. |
Chapter 12
‘They call themselves the Anti-Mutant Defence League,’ Domino is saying. ‘There’s nothing particularly special about them, they’re one of dozens of human anti-mutant supremacist groups, except these guys are starting to have a real voice. They’ve got some kind of backer, someone who’s quietly financing their activities. It’s like they’re ever present. Whenever there’s been a disaster where mutants or superheroes were even remotely involved, regardless of how, they’re always there, picketing or whatever. At the same time, there’s wide-spread violence against known mutants, perpetrated by, ironically enough, masked vigilantes. They’re well outfitted for vigilantes, though. Officially the AMDL condemns these attacks, but if you delve deep enough into the darker corners of the Internet, you can dig up some pretty disturbing stuff posted by their members. Everything from organised harassment and threats of violence and rape, to actual planned attacks on specific mutants. Pretty chilling.’
Wade switches his phone from one ear to the other and looks out his window at the darkening horizon. ‘Logan seemed worried.’
‘He is, and he has good reason to be. It’s been hushed up, but a few days ago there was an attack on a young mutant girl, barely ten years old, by so-called assailants unknown. Her powers had just manifested, there were talks with her parents about getting her to the Jean Grey school. It was . . . It was brutal. Shit they did to her . . .’ Domino’s voice sounds strained, angry. ‘When they were through they left her to be found in a parking lot. Physical injuries were moderate, but she hasn’t said a word since.’
‘They went after a kid?’ Wade asks darkly. ‘The fucking . . . Who are they? Who do I kill?’
Domino sighs. ‘We don’t know yet. Don’t do anything rash, Wade. This has to be handled right. We’re dealing with normies here, and if we go after them like we want, they’ll just use it as proof that we’re just as dangerous and unpredictable as they say we are. Just keep your eyes open. Logan’s right, someone like you should be high on their list. They won’t care if you’re a mutant or a mutate. If you really want, I’ll try and keep you posted on developments.’
‘Yeah, you better,’ Wade growls. ‘If there’s gonna be a reckoning I want a piece of that action.’
‘Look out for your buddy Spider-Man, too. I don’t think he’s on their shit list yet, but they definitely don’t like him.’
‘Oh, trust me. Those fucks wanna get at my Spidey, they have to go through me. No one hurts him and lives.’
He can hear the wry smile in her voice. ‘Your Spidey, huh? Well, good luck with it. I gotta go. Take care of yourself, Wade.’
‘Yeah. You too.’ Wade hangs up.
Well, that was an illuminating conversation.
Peter won’t like it if we kill these guys, though.
‘Well, I’d rather have Peter mad at me than dead.’
Though neither would be preferable, right?
Definitely. We should go for neither dead nor angry Peter. We should go for fucking Peter instead.
Or being fucked by Peter.
Wade shakes his head. ‘Pete ain’t that kind of boy. He runs this show. We’re not pushing any of that until he’s ready for it.’
That’s not very like us.
Sure it is. Kink list entry #43: Consent is sexy.
Wade nods in agreement. ‘Word.’
‘Spidey!’ Wade drops to his knees next to Peter, who sits up with a groan, rubbing the back of his head. ‘You okay, baby boy?’
‘Hey, I’m king of okay,’ says Peter. He glances at the bank robber who’s bleeding on the ground, clutching at a stab wound in his side and moaning in pain. ‘Did you really have to stab him?’
‘Oh, bitch bitch bitch!’ Wade waves a hand dismissively. ‘You want some cheese with that whine? He’ll be fine, I avoided any vital organs.’
Peter nods once. ‘Okay.’ Then he lets Wade help him to his feet.
The gesture of trust, his acceptance that Wade didn’t hurt the guy too badly, is touching. It makes Wade want to grab him and kiss him, but he knows this isn’t the time or the place.
He trusts us! Our Petey trusts us!
I know. I worry for his sanity.
Peter approaches the bank robber. He pulls the man’s hand away from the stab wound and shoots a wad of webbing at it, effectively stopping the bleeding, at least temporarily.
‘Get off me, you mutie asshole!’ the guy growls through his balaclava.
‘Not actually a mutant,’ says Peter calmly. ‘Though if you’d rather bleed out, be my guest.’
The bank robber shuts up, and Peter webs him up with his partner, who’s lying unconscious a few feet away. Then he approaches the wounded security guard. Thankfully, the bank robbers were shitty shots. The gunshot wound is in his leg, and was enough to knock him off his feet and, unfortunately, drop his gun, but he should be just fine in time. Peter helps him get to a chair so he can sit more comfortably, and seals up his wound with webbing too.
‘Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Man First Aid Service,’ he quips. ‘Cops on their way?’
The guard nods, wincing slightly as he tries to move his leg.
‘Hope they’re bringing an ambulance. Deadpool, we should split.’
Wade nods, wiping the blood off his blade. ‘Right you are, princess.’
They leave the bank, Peter letting Wade on his back and web-swinging them a few blocks away from the scene, coming to land on a rooftop. Wade climbs off Peter’s back and puts his arms around his waist, pulling his back to his chest.
‘You’re so hot when you’re saving lives,’ he murmurs, and Peter chuckles, placing his hands on top of Wade’s and squeezing.
‘Only then, huh?’
‘Nah, you’re hot all the time,’ Wade concedes. ‘Man, you make me wanna—’ He cuts himself off.
Put his dick in our mouth?
Lick his sweet asshole?
Fuck him until he screams?
‘I make you wanna what?’ Peter asks, turning around to face him. He pulls his mask up to his nose and presses his lips to Wade’s still covered neck. ‘What is it you want?’
Wade grunts, unsure of how to respond, unsure about what it is he actually wants. If he’s honest, there are a million things he wants from this gorgeous boy who’s now so impossibly close to him. They range from the innocent to the obscene, from the vanilla to the deeply kinky.
‘Wade?’ Peter’s soft voice pulls him out of his thoughts.
Wade clears his throat. ‘Hell, Pete . . . I got what I want right here.’
Peter smiles and, pushing Wade’s mask up to liberate his mouth, captures his lips. The kiss goes on for some time, and Wade can feel his body responding to it, to Peter’s velvety tongue filling his mouth. He wants Peter to fill him in other ways, too. It’s not something he’s used to wanting. The thought makes him moan, and he holds Peter tighter to him.
When they come up for air, Peter is clearly turned on too. He’s panting, his chest rising and falling against Wade’s, and what Wade can see of his face is flushed.
‘So,’ Peter says breathlessly, ‘wanna come to my place again?’
Yes! We totally do!
Say yes. Say yes, damnit!
‘You sure?’ Wade can’t help but ask, because this, all of it, still seems too good to be true, and now that they’re this close he’s having a hard time holding onto the idea of not pushing this, of just letting things happen at Peter’s pace, because, fuck, he wants him.
Peter just laughs. ‘No, I just asked to be polite. Would I ask you over if I didn’t want you over, Wade?’
Wade smiles sheepishly. ‘I dunno, would you?’
‘No. No, I would not. Now, do you wanna come over or not? There’s an all night Thai take-out down the block from me, if you’re hungry.’
‘Sure,’ Wade says at last. ‘I’d love to come over.’
Peter has beer in his fridge tonight, which is pretty awesome in and of itself, and the Thai food is tasty (Wade could easily eat Mexican every night, but he can understand that Peter might want to change it up), but the best part is how he climbs in Wade’s lap when they’ve eaten and proceeds to thoroughly ravish his mouth. He tastes of ginger, coconut and galangal, and he’s warm and soft and beautiful. The movement of his hips makes Wade desperately hard, and his perfect tongue makes Wade want to die, in a good way.
When Peter tugs at the hem of the top of Wade’s suit, however, Wade suddenly panics. He grabs Peter’s hands in his to stop him.
What are we doing?
We’re scared to show him more of our body, duh. We’re ugly, remember?
Peter stills and cocks his head to one side, studying Wade’s eyes (he did manage to get him to take the mask off again, in spite of Wade’s misgivings). ‘You okay?’ he asks softly.
‘Yeah, fine! Totally fine!’ Wade lies.
Peter smiles. ‘Wade . . .’
Don’t tell him what we’re thinking. It’ll make it come true.
Closing his eyes for a moment, Wade sighs. If that’s the case, he’d rather get it over with. ‘I guess I don’t get it, Pete,’ he murmurs. He opens his eyes again, meeting the hazel of Peter’s. ‘I don’t get how you can . . . Like me? I mean, any second now you’re probably gonna come to your senses, realise who it is you’ve been making out with . . . Or you’re gonna . . .’
See us. Realise how ugly we are.
Peter sighs and rests his forehead against Wade’s. He gently strokes the side of his neck, running his thumb along the black collar of his suit. ‘How can I convince you?’
‘Convince me?’
‘That I like you. That I trust you. That you can’t scare me away.’
Trust. He said trust.
Peter takes a deep breath and straightens his back, looking down at Wade’s face. ‘My name is Peter Benjamin Parker. I’m twenty-one and I study science at Empire State, majoring in biochemistry. I’ll be graduating in the spring. Planning on a Masters in biophysics. I was raised by my aunt and uncle, May and Ben. Uncle Ben passed away when I was in high school. I like photography. Sometimes I earn extra cash selling pictures of Spider-Man to newspapers, but I haven’t got as much time for it as I used to. I’m a geek. I ramble when I’m nervous. And there’s this guy I like right now . . . He doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut either, and his morals are sometimes, shall we say, questionable, but underneath it all he has a good heart and I think he’s really hot. His name is Wade Wilson.’
He falls silent, and for once in his life, Wade can’t think of a single thing to say. Neither can his boxes. The silence is deafening. And then, because he doesn’t know what else to do and it’s what he wants, he grabs the back of Peter’s head and pulls him down to kiss him, hard. There’s nothing he can say, no way that he can express with words how much Peter’s trust means to him, so he tries to tell him with the kiss instead, with the hand on the small of his back and the one in his hair. Tries to tell him how important this is, how impossible it feels.
Peter kisses him back, and when next he moves his hands to the hem of Wade’s top, Wade doesn’t stop him, lets his warm hands touch the bare skin of his torso, scarred though it is.
They end up in Peter’s bed, kissing, holding each other, getting each other off with hands and mouths. And though Wade has done all of this countless times before, everything feels somehow new, and wonderful, and a little bit scary.
The scariest part is afterwards, when they’re both sated and sleepy and happy, and Peter snuggles up close, turns off the light and whispers, ‘Good night, Wade.’
Wade falls asleep with his lips in Peter’s hair, and for once the voices in his head are silent. |
Thanks! Have some more. ?
Chapter 13
‘We’ve made the papers.’ Peter holds up a copy of The Daily Bugle so Wade can see it. On the front page is a photo of the two of them in costume, apparently leaving a crime scene. Wade has his left arm around Peter’s shoulder. In his right he’s carrying one of his swords. There’s clearly blood on it. The picture is taken at night, but wherever they are there’s enough light from the street lamps and nearby buildings to see them by just fine.
‘Hey, I look pretty good!’ says Wade with a grin. ‘Not as good as you, clearly, but still.’
Pretty good? Man, we are ripped as fuck! No wonder Peter likes us!
‘Yeah, you look great,’ Peter says. ‘This picture shouldn’t really have been taken, though. And the article accompanying it . . .’ He shakes his head. ‘It’s not good.’
Wade takes the paper from him and scans the page. ‘Why? What’s it say?’
‘Basically that the menace that is Spider-Man has teamed up with the even greater menace that is Deadpool, and that it’s only a matter of time before people start getting dead. Clearly they haven’t gotten wind of the ones that got dead already, or this piece would be a whole lot worse.’ He takes the paper back and reads out loud, ‘“Deadpool is a mercenary who operated for many years as a gun for hire, killing indiscriminately. His body count, which is not inconsiderable, includes everything from criminals to innocent bystanders, and there are few superheroes he hasn’t fought. Whether he is being paid by Spider-Man or someone else is currently unknown, but either way the public needs to ask itself what Spider-Man is doing together with this bloodthirsty killer.”’
‘Ah. Yeah, that does sound pretty bad.’ Wade scratches his neck self-consciously. Once again it seems his past is coming between him and Peter. ‘I’m sorry.’
Peter drops the paper to the concrete rooftop beneath his feet. He takes off his mask and closes the distance between them, before rolling Wade’s mask up to his nose and kissing him softly on the lips. Wade’s heart leaps.
‘Not your fault,’ Peter whispers. ‘This sucks, but we’ll deal with it.’
Wade slips his arms around Peter’s waist and nods. As much as he loves it, he doubts he’s ever going to get used to this closeness. He breathes in Peter’s scent, of soap and autumn rain, and wonders for what must be the hundredth time today alone how he ever got to be this lucky.
Man, why does he even like us?
What’s not to like? We’re awesome! Did you see that picture in the paper?
No, we’re not. We’re a mess. We shouldn’t rule out the possibility that the past week has been one long on-going hallucination. Or maybe we’re being fed fake memories again.
Wade ignores the boxes. ‘Who, uh . . .’ He clears his throat. ‘Who wrote the piece?’
Peter shrugs. ‘Some nobody columnist called Trever Tate.’
Wade files the name away in the back of his mind for later. Clearly he has some googling to do when he gets home. If this guy’s a threat, he needs to be dealt with.
‘Well, whoever he is I think we’ve wasted enough time on him,’ he says brightly. ‘Let’s go fight some crime!’
Peter smiles and delivers another chaste kiss to his chapped lips. ‘Well, if you insist.’
Two muggings and three drunken brawls later (for a Saturday it’s pretty tame), the two of them are sitting at the edge of a roof eating hotdogs, as though eating hotdogs on rooftops at four in the morning is the most natural thing in the world. Which it is, and Peter wonders when that happened. He doesn’t mind at all, of course. At some point, this became one of his favourite things—sitting on a rooftop with Wade, sharing a meal and listening to him ramble. Another one of his favourite things involves rather less clothing and preferably a bed. The thought makes him smile, where just days ago it would have made him blush.
When Wade, for a rare moment, shuts up, Peter takes his gloved hand and entwines their fingers. He doesn’t know what they are, isn’t sure he needs to define it, but he loves this, loves having Wade near him like this, touching him and listening to his voice, even when he’s just rambling to himself. It feels silly to admit it, makes him feel like a kid, but whatever this relationship is, he wants it to continue.
‘Anyway, Logan totally set me up, let me catch him to lure his son to him. Man, amount of people who wanna kill Wolverine is almost as high as the ones who wanna kill me . . . I know, I said almost. Not selling myself short, here. Least I’m not one of them anymore.’
Peter raises an eyebrow and smiles. ‘Really?’
Wade shrugs. ‘Dude, I haven’t wanted to kill Logan in a long time. Well, not seriously, anyway. Everyone wants to kill their brother every once in a while, right?’
‘Brother?’ Peter’s other eyebrow joins the first.
Another shrug. ‘We share a healing factor. Figure that makes us as close to family as I’m likely to get. Was still kind of a surprise to see him again, though.’
Peter frowns. ‘You’ve seen him recently? I didn’t know he was in New York.’
‘Well yeah, he came to—’ Wade cuts himself off suddenly, as if he’s said something he shouldn’t. ‘You know, it doesn’t matter. He stopped by to say hi is all. Daken’s in town, so he was really here to see him.’
Peter isn’t quite sure he believes that. From what he knows about Wolverine (which admittedly isn’t all that much, as he’s only met him a couple of times and only professionally) he doesn’t seem the type to make social calls. At the same time, he can’t see why Wade would lie to him, and he doesn’t want to distrust him.
Wade seems to be reading his mind, because he sighs and squeezes his hand. ‘Look, it’s really not important. There’s some mutant shit going down, so Logan wanted to give me the head’s up, cause we’ve teamed up together lots of times and he felt like he owed me or whatever. But you and me, we’re not mutants, so there shouldn’t be anything to worry about. Okay?’
Peter nods, and leans into Wade’s side. ‘So, what’s going on?’
‘Just anti-mutant groups stirring up trouble, business as usual. Shouldn’t affect us, and the X-Men and X-Force are pretty much on top of it, anyway. You’ve got enough to worry about, so . . .’ He trails off.
‘You didn’t want to worry me.’
‘Exactly.’
Peter nods again. ‘Okay. I guess I can appreciate that.’
Wade chuckles softly and shakes his head, glancing sideways at Peter. ‘You’re too good to me, baby boy.’ He cups his cheek and leans in to kiss him. He tastes like hotdogs. Peter doesn’t mind one bit. Wade’s supposed to taste like junk food.
Lips and tongues seek each other, deepening and intensifying the kiss, and by the time they come up for air Peter feels warm and flushed and there are so many things he wants. He wants to invite Wade to his place again, wants to take him into his bed and do dirty things to him. But it’s already late, and he has plans tomorrow. A sudden inspiration strikes him.
‘Hey, Wade . . . I promised my aunt I’d have lunch with her tomorrow, so I should get home soon.’ He sees Wade’s face fall slightly, and presses on quickly, ‘But tomorrow’s Sunday, and it’ll be a slow crime day anyway, so . . . You wanna just come to my place tomorrow, instead of going out patrolling? I mean, I could, like, cook or something. I’m not a great cook, but . . . Like, we could have dinner and watch some TV or whatever you want and just, well, hang.’
While Peter speaks, Wade’s face splits into a wide grin. ‘Are you asking me on a date, Parker?’ he purrs softly once Peter’s finished.
Peter grins back. ‘Yeah, I guess I am. I mean, just a night in, but . . . Do you want to?’
‘You have to ask?’ Wade kisses him again, more gently than before. ‘I’d love to.’ He lets go of Peter and stands. ‘If you’re gonna have lunch with your aunt you should probably get home and get some sleep. I’ll come by around seven?’
‘Yeah.’ Peter stands too. ‘Seven should be fine.’ He gives Wade one final kiss and readies his web-shooter. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow night, then!’ Then he swings away, giddy as a school girl, with what feels like a permanent grin plastered to his face, because tomorrow he has a date with Wade Wilson.
Wade snuggles down in his blanket fort and opens his laptop. A quick Google search reveals little of interest on Trever Tate. He has a Facebook profile with very little public information, a Twitter full of mostly civil political tweets and otherwise pictures of food, and a blog where he posts about the dangers of mutants going unchecked. He seems like your regular garden-variety anti-mutant activist.
Impossible. He has an alliterative name. That means he has to be important.
Unless the writer’s just throwing us a red herring.
Herring? Where?
Wade follows a few links from the blog and clicks into an anti-mutant subreddit. It contains pretty much what you’d expect—spurred on by the anonymity of the net, folks are spewing vitriol and hate, though there’s an active and vocal minority who discuss civilly and reasonably. They express concern for the safety of their children, should mutants choose to abuse their powers, and calmly discuss options for subduing them if they do. There are some references to the AMDL, as well as other anti-mutant groups.
Trever Tate is among the reasonable ones. His discourse is almost annoyingly civilised, peppered with smiley faces and bland jokes, giving him every appearance of being utterly harmless.
Unless some of these angry haters are his sock puppets.
‘Hm, a definite possibility, of course . . . Make yourself out to seem nicer by making other people appear the opposite.’ Wade closes the reddit tab with a sigh. ‘Doesn’t seem like we’re gonna find anything this way. I’m not that net-savvy, anyway.’
We should just jerk off and then go to sleep.
Good idea. Masturbation always cheers us up.
It’s tempting, but Wade shakes his head. Instead, he sends an e-mail to Domino, asking her if she’s heard of Trever Tate and if she thinks he may be part of the trouble that’s brewing. Then, as he can’t think of anything else to do (as tempting as jerking off is, he’s not really feeling it tonight), he goes to sleep. He’s going to see Peter tomorrow. He needs his beauty sleep.
Edited December 3, 2018 by ThornWild
(see edit history) |
Aunt May is just the best.
Chapter 14
At one o’clock the following day, Peter goes to his aunt’s house. They chat over leftover tuna casserole. Aunt May is in a good mood, pleased to see her nephew, and more than ever Peter feels as though he never left, like everything is exactly the way it’s always been. Except that he didn’t used to have dates with former mercenaries lined up for afterwards.
‘So,’ she says, ‘has anything interesting happened since last time?’
Peter shrugs. ‘I dunno if I’d say interesting . . .’ He hesitates.
Aunt May looks at him shrewdly. ‘What aren’t you telling me, Peter?’ She reaches out and squeezes his hand. ‘You know you can tell me anything, don’t you?’
He smiles, because of course he knows that. He always could, and he can’t see why that should stop now. ‘Okay,’ he sighs. ‘Remember that friend I told you about? Wade?’ She nods. ‘Well, it’s possible that he’s . . . not quite just a friend.’
A silence follows, during which Aunt May looks at him with an expression of mild surprise on her face. Peter waits, a nervous fluttering in his stomach. Then she smiles. ‘I see. Well, you should bring him over for dinner some time, then.’
Peter can’t help but laugh. He had expected disbelief, questions, something other than this, but Aunt May’s unconditional acceptance of his choices doesn’t really surprise him so much as it confirms what a singularly kind and understanding human being she is.
‘I’m not sure we’re at the meet the family stage quite yet, but . . . Yeah, some time. I’m seeing him tonight, actually. He’s coming over. I’m cooking. Don’t know what yet.’ He feels himself blush a little, but that’s okay. Aunt May can see him blush any time.
‘You look happy,’ she says. ‘I’m glad. You deserve to be happy. I take it he’s happy, too?’
Peter laughs again at this. ‘Oh, yeah. He’s over the moon about it all. He’s . . . liked me for a long time, I guess. I never really understood that I liked him too, but I really do. It’s different for sure, but it’s nice. I’ve never . . . I mean, I’ve only really liked girls before . . .’ He trails off, because as much as he can talk to Aunt May about anything, this topic still feels a little awkward.
Aunt May waves her hand in a gesture of unconcern. ‘You know none of that matters to me, sweetie. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy.’
‘Oh, I am,’ says Peter softly. ‘We haven’t really defined this yet, I guess we’re taking it slow, but . . . Yeah. I’m definitely happy.’
‘Good!’ says Aunt May brightly. ‘Have some more casserole.’
Peter buys ingredients for Bolognese on the way home. It’s probably the only dish he knows how to cook well, as he usually doesn’t have the time or the energy to cook for himself. He gets ground beef, bacon, tomatoes, onions, garlic, carrots, celery, and a bottle of red wine. He considers the pots of fresh herbs, but decides against it as he doesn’t really know how to use them. Black pepper and dried oregano will have to do for seasoning.
Cooking takes most of the afternoon, but Peter’s in a good mood. He listens to music while he chops vegetables, and while the sauce is cooking he cleans up and sets the table.
He’s pretty sure ‘around seven’ means ‘closer to eight’ to Wade, so he holds off on cooking the spaghetti. He’s extremely surprised therefore when his doorbell rings at five to seven. Surprised, but not unhappy. He’s even more pleasantly surprised when Wade enters his apartment in jeans and a hoodie, and without his Deadpool mask.
‘Hey,’ says Wade and smiles a little sheepishly. He’s got his hands in the front pocket of his hoodie, a black one with the Avengers ‘A’ on the front.
Peter’s dressed himself in fitted black jeans and a purple button-down. He smiles back, closing the door and pulling Wade into a hug. Then he kisses him gently on the lips.
‘Hey yourself,’ says Peter, letting him go. ‘Make yourself at home. Dinner’s almost done.’
Wade seems to take in the set table, complete with a lit candle, and whistles. ‘You’re gonna spoil me, Petey.’
Peter laughs, going back to the kitchenette to put on the spaghetti. ‘Don’t get ahead of yourself. You haven’t tried the food yet, and I have it on good authority that I can’t cook worth a damn.’
‘Well, it sure smells nice,’ says Wade. He takes a seat on the couch and watches Peter as he moves around the kitchen getting everything ready. ‘So, what’s cookin’, good lookin’?’
‘Spaghetti Bolognese,’ Peter replies, rolling his eyes. ‘I would have made tacos, but Mexican food isn’t exactly my forte, so then most of it would have come out of a bag. And I, you know, I wanted to cook something from scratch.’
Behind him he hears Wade hum happily. ‘You’re too good to me, baby boy. You give me home-cooked dinner and a show, what with that gorgeous ass of yours moving round the kitchen in those tight jeans . . .’
Peter snorts and turns around. ‘You’re so corny!’
‘You love it!’ Wade retorts.
Pulling his fingers through his dark hair, Peter looks away and smiles. ‘God help me, I do.’ Then, to stop things from becoming awkward, he picks the wine bottle up off the counter (he’s used just a splash in the sauce), and asks, ‘Wine?’
‘Sure.’ Wade smiles.
Peter fills their glasses and brings one over to Wade. Wade takes it from him, and then grabs his hand. Looking straight up into Peter’s eyes, he presses his palm to his lips. The gesture feels impossibly intimate, and Peter has to clear his throat all of a sudden.
They sit down to eat a few minutes later, and with the first bite Wade makes a sound not entirely unlike the sound he makes right before he comes. ‘Oh. My. God. What the fuck do you mean, you can’t cook? This is amazeballs!’
Peter can’t help but laugh. ‘It’s just spaghetti, Wade.’
‘This is not “just spaghetti”.’ Wade takes a sip of his wine. ‘This is like a taste orgasm! Gordon Ramsay can make “just spaghetti”. The finest Italian chef in New York City couldn’t make anything better than this! It’s like it was made by a housewife in Bologna! What are you laughing at, Parker?’
Peter is clutching his side and gasping for breath. ‘You’re adorable!’ he manages to get out, once he’s got his breath back. Then he looks at Wade and smiles. ‘Thank you. I’m glad you like it.’
‘I love it!’ says Wade pointedly. He takes another bite, and Peter watches him close his eyes and moan. Through his wild gesticulation, his hood has slipped off, revealing the full extent of his bald, scarred head. It’s a testament to how comfortable he must be feeling that he doesn’t seem to care. ‘Seriously, so fucking good. No one’s cooked me dinner in—hang on, did you call me adorable?’
Peter chuckles softly as he swallows down a bite of his own. It actually did turn out pretty well, if he says so himself. ‘Yeah, well you are adorable.’
‘Of course I am,’ Wade says without missing a beat. ‘But I’m not used to people noticing.’
‘Well,’ says Peter, shrugging one shoulder, ‘you’ll just have to get used to me noticing.’
They finish eating to light conversation, and when all the food and wine is gone they move to the couch. Peter’s about to suggest they put on a movie or something when Wade pulls him into a tight embrace and kisses him. All other thoughts quickly vanish from Peter’s mind, and they spend a good half hour on the couch, making out like teenagers.
Finally Peter stands up and, taking Wade’s scarred hand in his, leads him towards the bedroom. He pushes Wade down on the bed and, with slow deliberation, palms him through his pants. Wade groans and shuts his eyes.
‘I wanna make you feel good, Wade,’ Peter whispers. ‘I wanna make you feel so good.’
‘Dunno how . . . you can make me feel any better than you already do . . . Petey-pie . . .’ Wade gasps out the words.
Peter only smiles, and pops the button on Wade’s jeans. He pulls them down to reveal pink silk boxers, which is simultaneously utterly adorkable and kind of hot. He touches Wade through the silky fabric and watches him squirm. Then he pulls down the boxers, too, and takes him into his mouth.
He’s wanted to do this for a while, at least since that first night Wade came over, but he’s been too nervous to go for it. Not tonight, though. Tonight he feels uncharacteristically bold and confident, and the way Wade’s body responds to his ministrations only enhances that feeling. One of Wade’s hands is in his hair, grasping but not pulling, his fist clenching and unclenching. He makes the most beautiful sounds when Peter swipes his tongue just so. Peter feels impossibly turned on.
Between moans and gasps, Wade’s mouth is running more or less constantly. ‘Oh, fuck, Peter . . . Feels so good, can’t believe it feels so good, shit . . . Oh please, Peter, please! Oh, I’m so close . . . Pete, you should really . . . Fuck, I’m gonna come soon!’
Peter does not remove his mouth. Wade’s rambling only spurs him on, makes him want to see this through, and he does. When Wade comes with a moan deep in his throat, Peter swallows it down, lets the taste of him fill his mouth.
He wipes his lips and looks up at Wade’s face. His eyes are wide and he’s panting, fisting the sheets beneath him. ‘You’re so hot!’ Peter murmurs.
Wade laughs weakly. ‘You better get your eyes checked, baby boy.’
‘Don’t contradict me,’ says Peter calmly. He sits up properly and scoots up so he can plant his lips on Wade’s, who moans into the kiss. ‘If I say you’re hot, you’re hot.’
Wade strokes his cheek with a rough palm, and the look in his brown eyes is soft and tender. ‘Only you can almost make me believe that, you know.’
‘Just almost? I’d better try harder.’ Peter brushes his lips softly against Wade’s.
‘Best. Date. Ever,’ Wade murmurs into the kiss.
‘It’s not over yet,’ Peter responds. ‘Tell me, Wade Wilson. What do you want?’
‘You’ve already given me so much,’ says Wade softly. ‘What more could I possibly want?’
‘Not what I asked,’ says Peter. ‘Now tell me. What do you want?’
Wade seems to be debating with himself. His lips move but no sound comes out, and he looks pleadingly up at Peter.
Peter runs his fingers over Wade’s scarred cheek. ‘Tell me,’ he prompts.
Wade shuts his eyes, takes a deep breath and opens them again. Finally he clears his throat and whispers, ‘I want you to fuck me.’
A flutter goes through Peter’s chest and stomach at the words, and for a moment he’s frozen. Then he crashes his lips into Wade’s again, kissing him hard. He bites Wade’s bottom lip, producing a low-pitched whine from the other. Finally, he comes up for air and, looking straight into Wade’s eyes, whispers, ‘I can do that.’ |
? 'The internet is for porn, the internet is for porn . . . Why do you think the net was born? Porn! Porn! Porn!' ?
Chapter 15
Wade could punch himself in the face. It wouldn’t be the first time. He wasn’t going to do this, wasn’t going to ask for anything. It might freak Peter out or he’s not ready for it or this will otherwise ruin a good thing.
But Peter kisses him fiercely, and tells him he’ll do it, and Wade feels conflicted. He wonders if he should take it back, if Peter now feels pressured into something he doesn’t really want to do. Because if that’s the case, he hates himself.
Ever occur to you that Peter might want this as much as we do, Wilson?
What’s up with you worrying about the consequences so much all of a sudden?
‘Wait here,’ Peter murmurs against Wade’s lips. ‘Lube’s in the bathroom.’ He gets up and shimmies out of the room, and Wade’s left on the bed, flaccid cock hanging out.
No! What if he changes his mind?
Dude, why would he even have lube if he hadn’t been thinking about this? Straight dudes don’t need lube.
Unless they’re kinky.
Petey isn’t kinky.
As far as we know . . .
‘This is a bad idea,’ Wade moans out loud. ‘If we’re fucking, I’ll have to get naked and then he’ll see . . . well, everything. What if it grosses him out? It would gross me out . . .’
Yup. Instant mood killer.
But he’s seen our body before.
Yeah, but only parts of it, never all of it at once.
‘I’m so stupid!’ Wade covers his eyes with his hands. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid . . .’
‘Hey.’ Peter must have moved so silently Wade didn’t even hear him come in. Now he covers Wade’s hands with his own and pulls them away from his eyes. ‘Wade. You okay?’ The look on his face is filled with concern, and Wade hates himself even more.
‘Yeah, I’m fine!’ he says, voice higher than usual, and forces himself to grin. ‘A-okay, baby boy!’
Peter sits back on his haunches, arms crossed and one eyebrow raised. ‘If you’re having second thoughts about this, just tell me. We don’t have to do this now if you don’t want to.’
Wade hesitates.
Don’t be an idiot, Wilson! We’re finally about to get some! Don’t screw this up!
Wade lets out a breath. ‘It’s not that. It’s really not that. I . . . I want this, believe me. I’ve wanted it since . . . Well. A good long while. I just . . . I mean, do you want this?’
Peter laughs. It’s not a cruel or derisive laugh. It’s a kind laugh that brightens up his face with relief and mirth. ‘Are you kidding? Wade, I may not have been with a guy before, but I’m not exactly a virgin, or a prude.’ He leans down and brushes his lips softly against Wade’s. ‘I want this,’ he whispers. ‘I want you.’
Wade pushes himself up on his elbows and kisses Peter hard, because with all he’s done and everyone he’s been with, he can’t remember anyone ever saying that to him before. Then he pulls away, hesitant again.
‘I’ve . . . I’ve never done this before. Been on the receiving end, I mean. At least not that I can remember.’ If his skin would allow it, he would be blushing. But Peter just smiles.
‘I’ll go slow, then.’
Peter takes off his shirt and pants, leaving his boxers on. They’re purple, like the shirt he was wearing. It’s a good colour on him. Wade takes in his toned chest and stomach, and the well-defined bulge in his underwear. Any worries he had that Peter doesn’t actually want this die right then, because he’s clearly hard. Wade runs his hands up Peter’s strong arms and down his smooth torso, feeling the contours of lean muscles beneath his fingertips. Peter bites his lip and releases a low sound of pleasure when Wade’s rough fingers brush over his nipples. Then he touches the hem of Wade’s hoodie, and Wade holds his breath. Peter halts his movement.
‘If there’s any of this you’re uncomfortable with, anything you don’t want, or if you want me to stop, just tell me, okay?’
Wade gives a weak chuckle. ‘I’m just worried it’ll kill your hard-on.’
Peter laughs again. ‘Hasn’t so far, so what makes you think it will now?’
Keeping his big hazel eyes locked to Wade’s, he slowly pushes the hoodie up his torso. Wade shifts, sitting up enough that Peter can pull it off him before doing the same with the blue t-shirt he’s wearing underneath. He takes a moment to press several kisses to Wade’s collar bone and chest. The scarred skin doesn’t seem to bother him one bit. The warm softness of his lips makes Wade’s pulse rush a mile a minute, and he’s already getting hard again.
Thank you, healing factor that gives us the sexual stamina of a seventeen-year-old.
Peter moves on to Wade’s pants next, pulling them off him the rest of the way, along with the pink silk boxers (an impulse purchase he made a few days ago for shits and giggles, and also because he thought they were pretty). Peter runs his palms up Wade’s scarred legs, and they’re so warm and smooth. Wade’s breath hitches slightly in his throat as Peter strokes the insides of his thighs.
‘Come here,’ Wade says hoarsely. Peter stretches out on top of him, his hardness digging into Wade’s hip bone through the cotton of his boxers, and Wade puts his arms around him, stroking his back. Then he finds Peter’s lips, kisses him with all he’s got and squeezes his firm ass until Peter is moaning and rutting against him. When they break apart, Peter is looking down at him, pupils blown wide in the dim light of the bedroom. He kisses Wade’s jaw, neck and collarbone, and moves his lips and hands down his body. Then he grabs a pillow and slides it under Wade’s ass.
Peter reaches for the lube bottle he brought back from the bathroom and settles himself between Wade’s legs. He squirts a generous amount onto his finger and begins the work of prepping him.
The initial touch tickles. The lube is cold, and Wade feels a shudder go through his body. Then Peter pushes his finger inside. Wade gasps at the intrusion.
‘You okay?’ asks Peter, not moving.
Wade nods, trying to steady his breathing and relax. ‘Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Keep going.’
Peter does, and Wade throws his head back with a groan, squirming under his touch. Peter opens him up with long, nimble fingers, and it’s not at all like he hasn’t done this before. A few times he manages to curl his fingers just right, to push against Wade’s prostate, causing Wade to moan loudly and his cock to go rock hard again.
‘That healing factor’s handy, isn’t it?’ Peter says huskily when he notices. ‘You reload quick.’ When he seems to deem Wade prepped enough, he pulls his fingers out and reaches for the drawer in the nightstand, pulling out a condom.
Wade swallows. ‘You probably don’t need that, you know,’ he says softly. ‘I mean, I can’t get diseases, so I can’t infect you either, and . . . I mean, unless you want to wear one, that’s cool. You can decide . . . Shut up, Wilson!’ he mutters, feeling way more awkward and embarrassed than he thinks he should.
Peter drops the condom on the nightstand and smiles sheepishly. ‘Force of habit. I didn’t even think about that . . .’
Wade watches in anticipation as Peter pulls off his purple boxers to reveal his dick, and is once again struck by how beautiful he is, his proportions and angles, the tufts of dark hair trailing from his belly button down to his manhood. Wade exhales slowly, trying to calm his frantic heart.
Peter lubes himself up, and then positions himself before pushing inside.
The pressure is amazing. A little painful, and so, so good. Peter stops every once in a while, to make sure Wade’s okay, moving inside inch by inch. Then, with one fluid roll of his hips, he sinks in to the hilt, and they both gasp simultaneously, and then laugh.
‘You okay?’ Peter asks for what must be the millionth time, and strokes Wade’s cheek with the backs of his fingers. Wade takes his hand and squeezes it.
‘Yeah. I’m good.’
Peter smiles, a mischievous glint in his eye. ‘Yeah, you are.’ Then he pulls out a little and thrusts back in with a groan, biting his lip. ‘Oh, my God . . . So good!’
They go slow for a while, getting used to each other. Wade is almost surprised at how much he’s enjoying this. Getting fucked by Spider-Man has been a long time fantasy, but he’s never actually taken the time to consider whether or not he would actually like being on the receiving end of anal sex. Now that he is, he wonders how he’s managed to forego it for so long, because this is pretty fucking awesome.
He moves his hips in time with Peter, pushing back against his thrusts. He looks up at his face, his closed eyes, the pink tint in his cheeks and the sweat on his brow, and thinks that there is nowhere he would rather be right now. This moment is perfect.
‘Shit, Peter,’ he murmurs when Peter opens his eyes again. ‘You’re so fucking beautiful.’ He slides his palms down Peter’s back and cups his ass. ‘What are you doing here with me? How the fuck did I get this lucky?’
Peter gives a hard thrust in and holds still. Wade thinks he can feel him pulsing inside him. ‘I’m here because I want to be,’ he says softly. ‘I’m here because I want you.’ He lowers his body down until their torsos are flush together and his weight rests on Wade, and delivers a wet, passionate kiss to his lips. Then he says, ‘Now, is there anything in particular you’d like me to do?’
Wade licks his lips and laughs softly. ‘Fuck, baby boy . . . You asking?’
‘I’m asking. Tell me what you want.’
Wade lets go of Peter’s ass. He finds his hands on either side of his torso and entwines their fingers. ‘Well, in that case,’ he whispers, and he’s somehow no longer nervous, meeting Peter’s eyes, ‘I’d like you to hold me down and fuck me into the mattress.’
Peter smirks. Squeezing Wade’s hands, he puts his full weight on them and raises himself up. He pulls almost all the way out, and then thrusts back in, hard. ‘Like this?’ he gasps.
Wade nods through a groan, because he doesn’t trust himself to speak.
‘And this?’ Peter repeats the movement, putting yet more force behind it.
‘Fuck! Yes . . .’ Wade whimpers. ‘God, yes! Please! Don’t . . . Don’t hold back!’
‘I dunno if you’ve noticed,’ says Peter, thrusting in again, ‘but I am really strong.’
‘I dunno if you’ve noticed,’ Wade repeats, ‘but I can take it.’
Peter stills, and seems to study Wade’s face intently. ‘You sure about this?’
Wade gazes up at him, taking a few steadying breaths. ‘Fuck yeah.’
Peter nods once. ‘Okay.’
The next few minutes are a blur of sensation. Wade feels like his entire body is aflame, and soon he can’t keep quiet, every thrust eliciting a moan or gasp or shout. Peter is fucking into him with abandon, his eyes shut tight and his thrusts accompanied by heavy breaths.
‘Shit, Wade,’ he gasps, forgetting not to swear, ‘you feel so good! So tight and beautiful for me, God . . . I’m not gonna be able to keep this up for much longer.’ He meets Wade’s eyes and the look on his sweaty face is wild. ‘You wanna come?’ he asks, voice rough and husky.
Wade can do nothing but nod, and Peter lets go of one of his hands, reaching in between them and taking hold of Wade’s dick.
‘Then come for me,’ he whispers, giving a few rough strokes, and Wade does so with a loud groan. Peter doesn’t stop, fucks him through it, and then his movements become erratic, his hips bucking wildly, and he shouts and collapses on Wade’s sticky chest.
Wade puts his arms around Peter and hugs him tight. He strokes his sweaty hair back with his fingers and when Peter finally lifts his head to look at him, kisses him gently on the lips.
‘That,’ Wade declares in a low rumble, ‘was awesome!’
Peter chuckles and buries his nose in the crook of Wade’s neck with a sigh. ‘Yeah, that was pretty good,’ he agrees. He draws a few deep breaths, tickling Wade’s marred skin when he exhales, and props himself up on his elbow. He smiles gently down at Wade and trails his fingers along his jawline. ‘You feeling okay?’
Wade laughs. ‘What, awesome not good enough for you? I feel great, honey-buns.’ He shifts a little. Peter’s still inside him and both their stomachs are sticky with Wade’s cum.
Peter seems to have noticed that as well. ‘You want a shower? There are fresh towels under the sink.’
‘Sure, a shower sounds nice,’ Wade admits. Then, ‘You could come with me, you know.’
‘Yeah?’ Peter smiles and kisses Wade’s cheek. ‘Sure, I’ll come with.’
They disentangle from each other and Peter pulls out of him. Wade feels oddly empty with him gone. They walk naked, hand in hand, to the bathroom, and Wade feels too blissfully happy to even notice the stark contrast of his own scarred, red tinged skin next to Peter’s flawless alabaster complexion. They clean each other up and make out under the stream of hot water. Then they go back to bed (‘Don’t worry about the cum-stains, I’ll just change the sheets tomorrow,’ Peter assures him) and slip under the covers naked, curling up in each other’s arms.
Before sleep claims them both, Peter kisses Wade softly on the lips and whispers, ‘Good night.’
‘Good night, baby boy,’ Wade replies in a tired murmur, and before he knows it, he’s fast asleep. |
Chapter 16
Peter wakes up in Wade’s arms and smiles to himself. The last time Wade slept over he was gone before Peter woke up, but now the ex-merc has his chest and stomach pressed up against Peter’s back, his slow breathing tickling the back of Peter’s neck. Peter glances at the alarm clock on the night stand. It’s only six thirty, and his first lecture doesn’t start until ten today. He is at first surprised that he’s even awake, but then he realises that they actually went to bed fairly early last night, exhausted from their . . . activity.
Since it’s so early, Peter wants most of all to just go back to sleep, but he does kind of need to pee. He shifts, trying to remove himself from Wade’s embrace without waking him, but upon his movement, Wade pulls him tighter to his chest and Peter discovers morning wood pressing quite insistently against his asscheek.
‘Mm,’ Wade protests sleepily. ‘Warm . . . Stay here.’
Peter chuckles softly and caresses Wade’s arm with his fingertips. ‘I kind of need a piss, though.’
‘So do I, but it’s not like I’m gonna be able to with this hard-on anyway.’ Wade slips his hand slowly down Peter’s stomach. ‘In the spirit of solidarity, I think it’s only fair that you help me out, here. It’s basically your fault that I’m like this, anyway. Wiggling your ass against me all night.’ He finds what he’s looking for and gives Peter’s half hard cock a few languid strokes. Peter hisses.
‘That’s just cruel,’ he mumbles.
‘No it’s not,’ Wade replies. ‘Besides, coming when you need to pee can be pretty intense.’
Peter rolls his eyes and then rolls over onto his back. He looks up into Wade’s soft brown eyes, and Wade bends his neck to kiss him lazily and sloppily. Morning breath and all, the kiss makes Peter feel warm in all the right places. Then Wade rolls on top of him and grabs both of their dicks in one large hand. Peter throws his head back and moans.
It doesn’t take long. The point isn’t to make it last, after all. Wade comes first with a gasp and a moan, and Peter follows seconds later with a shudder. Wade rests his forehead on Peter’s, and they just lie there for a few moments, coming down. When Wade finally flops over onto his back with a satisfied sigh, Peter starts getting up.
‘I said it first, so you’ll have to wait.’
‘We could go together. We could cross the streams!’ Wade suggests, grinning widely.
Peter laughs and shakes his head. ‘Sounds potentially messy. I think I’ll take a rain check on that.’
‘Suit yourself,’ says Wade, crossing his arms behind his head. ‘I can hold it.’
Peter goes to do his business, and when he gets out of the bathroom again he finds Wade standing stark naked in his kitchen, peering into his fridge.
‘You want pancakes, baby boy?’ he asks. ‘Man, I haven’t made breakfast in ages. My kitchen is not safe to cook in . . . It’s seriously roach city.’
Peter smiles. ‘Sure.’
Wade makes excellent pancakes, as it turns out. It’s nice to sit down and eat breakfast for a change. Most mornings Peter falls out of bed five minutes before he has to leave home, so he doesn’t get to have breakfast very often. He tells Wade this.
‘Aww! I’ll come make you pancakes every morning so you don’t have to go to school hungry, snookums! I’ll even get some top grade Canadian maple syrup for next time.’ Wade grins. Peter smiles around a bite of pancake.
‘Well,’ says Wade when they’ve finished eating and are clearing away the dishes, ‘I guess I should fuck off soon, so you can get ready for school, huh?’
Peter finishes drying a plate and puts it in the cupboard, shrugging one shoulder. ‘Well, I mean, you can hang out here if you want, I don’t mind.’
Wade giggles. Actually giggles, like a twelve-year-old girl. ‘You mean I could be like your little wifey and clean your apartment and have dinner on the table when you get home?’
Peter feels himself blush. ‘I didn’t really mean—’
‘That would be so awesome, Petey-pie!’ Wade throws him a huge grin. ‘I should really head home, though. I mean, I’ve got shit that needs doing. Gun maintenance, suit repair, online stalking of one Mr. Ryan Reynolds . . .’
Peter shakes his head and smiles, turning his back on Wade to put away the last plate. Arms encircle him from behind and pull him into a tight embrace, skin against skin. Peter's in pyjama pants. Wade's wearing his jeans and not much else yet.
‘See you tonight?’ Wade murmurs in his ear. ‘For patrol and then maybe a little R&R after?’
Peter turns around and kisses him on the lips. ‘Definitely.’ He strokes Wade’s upper arms, feeling the play of muscles under his palms as Wade tightens his fists in Peter’s shirt. ‘You know, I was really nervous about last night.’
‘Really? You didn’t seem like it, not even a little.’
‘Well, once we got started it didn’t seem like there was much point being nervous anymore. I mean, you seemed to like it.’
Wade chuckles and brushes his lips against Peter’s neck. ‘You bet your sweet little ass I did.’
‘I guess mostly I was worried that you’d find me boring.’
Wade pulls back a bit and searches his face. ‘Why would I find you boring?’
Peter laughs softly. ‘Because I’m almost painfully vanilla? And you somehow strike me as, well, not.’
Wade seems to consider this for a moment. He smooths back Peter’s hair absentmindedly and chews his lip. ‘It’s true that I’ve got a kink list a mile long,’ he admits at last. ‘And yeah, there’s a lot of that stuff that I’d like to try out with you some time, if you’re up for it. But Petey,’ and here he looks straight into Peter’s eyes, ‘that shit, it’s just icing, you know? Actually, scratch that, it’s not even icing, it’s just decoration. Not even the spun sugar kind, I’m talking little plastic cake decorations that you can’t even eat. And you’re the cake. Right now, when we’re in bed together, you’re my main kink.’
A brief silence follows, during which Peter realises that this may be the closest Wade has ever come to a declaration of love when there’s any chance at all that his feelings may be returned. He does the only thing he can think of, and captures Wade’s mouth in a deep and lasting kiss.
‘Likewise,’ he murmurs when they finally break apart. With great regret he releases Wade and takes a step back towards the kitchen counter. There is nothing he’d rather do than skip all his classes today and take Wade straight back to bed, but these lectures are important. ‘I should go get ready.’
Wade nods. ‘Yeah. I’ll get out of your hair. See you tonight, baby boy!’
It’s been a long time, a really long time, since anyone has looked at Wade, at his bare skin, without showing disgust. The scars and sores and scabs usually outright scare people away. His appearance has been insulted, laughed at, and has even caused a couple of people to vomit. Nobody has looked at Wade, really looked at him, and seen just another human being since . . . Well, since before Weapon X. Before the cancer.
That’s what makes Peter so remarkable. That he looks at Wade and sees just Wade. He doesn’t seem to mind or care about the way he looks. He doesn’t draw away. Doesn’t recoil in disgust. He touches Wade’s skin, on purpose, and can still get it up. That alone is incredible.
Hey, remember that poor rent boy in Vegas? He was so freaked out when we took off our pants he couldn’t go through with it.
Yeah, but we paid him anyway. Wasn’t his fault. Natural reaction, really.
It’s why it’s so hard to believe Peter sometimes. Because how can it be true? How can anyone look at Wade and not care how ugly he is? Wade has no illusions about how he looks. The world won’t let him. He knows he’s hideous. He’s not ashamed of it, exactly. It is what it is. But he doesn’t like it when people stare too much, and he doesn’t like scaring them.
That’s a lie. We love scaring people! Just not necessarily all the time.
We should be dating Daredevil instead. That would make this whole thing not an issue as he can’t see anyway. It would be great!
Wade sighs and unlocks the door to his building.
‘Good morning, Mr. Wilson!’ a cheery voice greets him. It’s Mrs. Rodriguez from two doors down. She smiles brightly at him. She’s got her son in tow, a tiny little thing no more than three.
Wade pulls his hood forward, making sure his face is in shadow and returns the smile. He doesn’t want to scare the kid. He’s shy.
‘Morning, Mrs. Rodriguez. Morning, Max!’
Max looks up at him with large brown eyes, and then he grins widely. ‘We’re going to the park!’ So, less shy today, then.
‘That’s awesome. Do they have swings there? I love the swings! When I was a kid I used to compete with my friend over who could get the swing to go higher. I always won, cause he chickened out.’ Wade has no idea if this is a real memory or not, but he’s not sure it matters.
‘Max likes the slide, don’t you, Max?’ Mrs. Rodriguez smiles fondly at her little boy and ruffles his hair.
‘Matteo does too!’ Max squeaks happily.
‘Matteo’s his friend he plays with at the park,’ Mrs. Rodriguez explains.
It’s weird calling her Mrs. She’s like ten years younger than us.
She’s someone’s mom. That makes her Mrs. Besides, she calls us Mr. Wilson.
‘What about you? Been out for a morning stroll?’ she asks.
Wade shrugs. ‘Spent the night at a friend’s place.’
‘A friend, huh?’ She smiles even more brightly. ‘Good for you! Well, we should get going before too many big kids occupy the slide.’
‘Have fun!’ Wade waves them off and heads off up the stairs.
It’s weird having neighbours who recognise him and talk to him. He did background checks on everyone in the building when he moved in, so he knows who they all are. Mrs. Rodriguez is a nurse, while her husband’s a dock worker. Usually they manage to make the shifts work out so someone can be at home with Max at all times, though sometimes he has to stay with a neighbour for a couple of hours, or Mrs. Rodriguez has to bring him to work, as they can’t afford daycare. They asked Wade once, but he had to explain that his apartment isn’t exactly child friendly. He was touched that they asked, though.
See? It's not just Peter. The Rodriguezes don't care what we look like either.
Yeah, but they don't know the extent of it. They've never seen us without our hood up.
Wade enters his apartment and sits down with his laptop in his blanket fort. It boots up slowly. He may need a new one soon, but he likes this one too much to replace it until he absolutely has to.
Domino has replied to his e-mail.
Wade,
We’ve been able to dig up pretty much exactly what you did on Trever Tate. Whoever he is, he’s kept his nose clean. He’s definitely a member of the AMDL, but it seems he’s neither a shock trooper nor the brains of the operation. He attends protests but has never thrown a brick, and his opinions are radical but not original. He’s a mouthpiece for the cause and not much else.
We’re keeping tabs on him, though, just in case he turns out to be trouble. I’ll keep you posted. We’re also trying to figure out where he got the photo for his opinion piece in the Bugle from. You’ll be the first to know when we do. Until then, you and Spider-Man should pay attention a little extra and make sure no one follows you home. Especially Spidey.
Logan sends his love. And by love I mean he asks me to remind you that he’ll kick your ass into next Tuesday if you fuck this up and get your boy killed. Or yourself for that matter, at least in the way you don’t come back from.
Watch your back.
Domino |
Chapter 17
‘. . . we have Trever Tate, the journalist who wrote the controversial piece in the Daily Bugle last week linking Spider-Man with the mutant mercenary Deadpool. Welcome, Trever!’
Wade’s gonna be so pissed when he hears he was referred to as a mutant, Peter thinks. He watches as a handsome man with strikingly blue eyes shakes hands with the host. He’s pretty sure he’s seen him at the Bugle’s offices at some point or another.
‘Glad to be here, Kate,’ the man says, flashing a bright smile.
‘There have been a lot of reactions to your article, some bad, some good.’
‘Haha, well that’s how it always is.’
Peter sighs and picks up the remote. He should just change the channel. Nothing good ever comes from watching press about himself.
‘What most people fail to understand is that Deadpool is a dangerous and wildly unstable individual. He’s responsible for death and destruction on a scale beyond what most super villains accomplish.’
‘And yet the X-Men, Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D all just let him walk around.’
‘That’s exactly what’s so odd, yes. Why has no one tried to stop him? Personally, I believe all of these organisations to be corrupt.’
Kate turns to the camera. ‘But the people Spider-Man and Deadpool have helped tell a different story.’
The picture changes, to a middle aged security guard on crutches. ‘Those bank robbers would have gotten away with a lot of cash if those boys hadn’t showed up, and who knows what they would have done to me. I owe them my life.’
A young, blonde man’s face fills the screen. ‘The store where I worked was held up. Deadpool just strode in, cool as anything, and distracted the guys emptying the register while Spidey took out the one holding the customers hostage. Deadpool got them to take their guns off me so I could get out of the way. He took like a whole clip to the chest and was still standing, it was [bleep]-ing sick, man!’ He grins.
The picture changes again, this time to a dark-haired woman with her face blurred out. ‘Deadpool and Spider-Man saved me from a gang-rape. If it weren’t for them . . . I owe them everything. They’re making our streets safer.’
Back to Kate and Trever sitting in their comfy chairs. ‘It sure sounds like they’ve been doing some good in the world. Is it possible that Deadpool’s changed his ways?’
‘Look, even a broken clock shows the right time twice a day, you know? Thing is, even bad people can do good things, and even good people can do bad things. I’m not questioning Spider-Man’s intentions, but he keeps odd company, and I have to wonder about how this partnership came about. And psychotic murderers don’t just change their ways over night, Kate. It’s just a matter of time before he starts killing again. And that’s the problem, with mutants in general and most masked vigilantes. Here we have these superhumans with incredible strength and power, and can we really trust them with that power? I worry for the safety of American families, and so should you.’
Kate turns to the camera again and smiles, showing perfect white teeth. ‘Well, I’m afraid that’s all we have time for today. Tune in tomorrow for—’
Peter turns the TV off just as the doorbell buzzes. Wade’s supposed to come over so they can eat together before patrolling. He grins and goes to buzz him in and unlock the door. A minute later, there’s a knock on the door to his apartment. Wade doesn’t usually knock, he tends to just walk right in. Peter opens the door, and stares.
Mary Jane Watson gives him a small smile. ‘Hi, Peter. Is . . . Is this a bad time?’
Peter swallows. He wants to tell her that any time is a bad time, but this is the first time he’s seen her in over six months, and his voice doesn’t seem to work like it’s supposed to. He wordlessly takes a step back, and she walks inside.
She stands in the middle of his living room, facing him. She looks the same, her red hair perhaps a little longer. She’s dressed for fall in New York City, in knee high black boots and a checkered miniskirt over brown tights.
‘You look good,’ she says at last. ‘How have you been?’
Peter clears his throat. He’s wearing frayed jeans and a purple hoodie, and is pretty sure he doesn’t look especially good at all. ‘Fine,’ he says.
‘Yeah, you’re always fine.’ She takes off her gloves. ‘How’s school?’
‘What are you doing here?’ Peter asks, ignoring her question.
She blinks. ‘I just . . . I wanted to see how you were doing.’
‘And an e-mail or a text were out of the question?’
Mary Jane runs her fingers through her long hair and sighs. ‘You can ignore an e-mail or a text,’ she mumbles. ‘Look, I just, I’m sorry about the way we left things, okay? I was rash, and I’m sure you’re angry, it’s just . . . It was like you never got over Gwen, like I was still living in her shadow, and I . . . But that’s not why I came here. To throw blame around. I came because . . . Peter, I still—’
He holds up a hand to silence her. He doesn’t want to hear the end of that sentence. ‘I’m not angry,’ he says quietly, and is surprised to find that he’s telling the truth. ‘I’m past that. I spent a lot of time being angry and sad and all of that, but I’ve moved on.’ He gives her a significant look, one he hopes exudes finality.
‘You . . . You’ve moved on,’ she repeats. ‘Is there . . . Have you found someone new?’
‘Yes,’ says Peter, without hesitating.
‘Oh.’
Just then, the door to the apartment flies open and Wade strides inside. ‘Hey, Petey-Pie! Your neighbour let me in downstairs. How’s—’ He stops, head cocked to one side, looking at Mary Jane. ‘Who’s this?’
‘Wade, this is Mary Jane. Mary Jane, this is Wade.’
Wade puts down the bag he’s carrying. It gives off a clatter of metal and wood and plastic. No doubt it contains his Deadpool suit and weapons. He reaches out a scarred hand towards Mary Jane and smiles warmly. ‘Good to meet you!’
She takes a step back, taking in his marred face and athletic build, eyes wide. She does not shake his hand, and Wade’s grin falters.
‘Mary Jane is my ex,’ says Peter. ‘Wade is my boyfriend.’
Wade looks at him in astonishment. ‘I am?’
To illustrate his point, Peter grabs Wade’s hand and entwines their fingers. ‘So you see, MJ, I really have moved on.’
He would feel sorry for her. The hurt expression on her face makes his stomach do painful things, because he really never wanted to hurt her. But then he sees the horror in her eyes when she looks at Wade, and his pity vanishes like vapour. Wade’s had enough people look at him like that in his life. Still, he keeps his voice soft and as kind as he can when next he speaks.
‘I think maybe you should go.’
She snaps out of her thoughts, her eyes meeting his for a brief moment, and nods. ‘Uh, yeah. I probably should. I’ll . . . See you around, maybe.’
‘Yeah. Take care.’
She pulls her gloves back on, walks over to the door, opens it and is gone. Wade whistles.
‘Well, that was awkward,’ he says. ‘She’s hot, though. We could have asked her to stay.’ He flashes Peter a wicked grin, and Peter smiles in spite of himself.
‘That chapter of my life is over,’ he says, walking over to the bag of groceries he left on the kitchen counter. ‘Believe me.’
Wade crosses his arms and regards Peter with a quizzical expression. ‘So . . . Boyfriend?’
Peter blushes. It felt like the thing to say at the time, but now it occurs to him that maybe Wade would have liked to have a say in how they define their relationship. He starts taking groceries out of the bag, ingredients for chilli. ‘Yeah, I . . . If you want to be . . . I mean, I don’t need any labels, we can just go on like we are, which is all kinds of awesome. What I mean is we don’t have to be boyfriends if that’s not, if you’re not comfortable with—’
A pair of strong arms encircle his waist from behind, and Wade pulls him tight to his chest, his lips brushing the back of Peter’s neck. ‘I’ve never had a boyfriend before,’ he murmurs. ‘I haven’t been anyone’s boyfriend in a really, really long time. But if you want me . . . I’d love to be yours.’
Peter turns around, finds his lips and kisses him fiercely. ‘Of course I want you!’
Wade laughs softly. ‘No “of course” about it, baby boy. But I’m glad . . . Boyfriend.’
After dinner they end up in bed, as has pretty much been their routine for the past week or so. It makes Peter happier than he can properly express that Wade no longer flinches when Peter tries to remove his clothing. He now seems almost entirely unperturbed by revealing his body. When Peter touches him, runs his fingers over his marred skin, Wade closes his eyes with a soft sigh, his chest rising and falling, lips open. And when he has Peter naked before him he gives him this look of admiration and astonishment, like he still can’t quite believe it, and murmurs, ‘Beautiful. So beautiful.’
Wade crouches between Peter’s legs, lifts his ass off the mattress with his hands and takes the length of him into his mouth. Peter throws back his head with a hiss, tries not to thrust up into Wade’s mouth, but it’s hard. Very hard. He tries to breathe normally, but then Wade does something with his tongue that makes him whimper and squirm, and Wade chuckles around his dick.
Peter grabs his shoulder and gasps, ‘Stop! Wait . . .’
Wade lets go at once and looks up at him with concern in his eyes. ‘You okay, Petey?’
Peter nods and relaxes his grip on Wade’s shoulder. ‘Yeah, I’m . . . I’m fine. I just . . . Didn’t wanna come yet.’
Wade smiles. ‘That’s what this is about?’ He takes him into his hand, slowly stroking. ‘So you do have a kink.’
‘Huh?’
‘Orgasm denial.’
Peter feels his face flush. ‘It’s not really that . . . I just . . . I don’t want it to end.’
Wade cocks a non-existent eyebrow. ‘We’ve got at least three hours before we need to go on patrol, baby boy. Nothing’s gonna end. No, this is about you and that thing you’ve got about holding back. So come clean, sweet cheeks. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty little head of yours.’
Peter licks his lips and looks away. ‘Well . . . I guess when I hold back, it feels even better when I let go. You know?’
Wade nods. ‘Yeah. I know exactly.’
‘Wade?’ Peter locks eyes with his lover—his boyfriend—again. ‘Will you . . . Will you top tonight?’
Wade blinks his brown eyes. ‘I . . . You sure?’
Peter nods. ‘Yes. I’m . . . I’m sure. Please?’
‘Well,’ says Wade, in barely more than a whisper. ‘When you ask so nicely, how can I say no?’
He scoots to the edge of the bed and takes the lube from the nightstand. Then he kisses Peter deeply and thoroughly. Peter can taste himself on that kiss, and that’s more of a turn-on than he ever thought it would be. Then Wade kisses and licks his way down Peter’s torso. He gives his dick a teasing lick before squirting some lube onto his fingers.
This is clearly something that Wade has done before, and he is extremely skilled at it. ‘That’s it, baby boy, just relax . . . You’re doing great. Breathe. I’ll make it so good for you, I promise!’
And then he’s inside Peter, filling him, and Peter can do nothing but gasp and groan because it feels that good, like heat spreading through his body, and they’re still for a moment. Peter waits, and Wade lowers his body so they’re flush together and kisses him before he begins to move.
‘Oh, Petey . . . Your ass is magnificent! So fucking tight, God . . .’ He pulls almost all the way out and rolls his hips, thrusting back in.
Without thinking, Peter all but whines, ‘Fuck!’ He’s clinging desperately to Wade, the feeling simultaneously too much and not enough.
Wade laughs softly in his ear. ‘You should cuss more, Pete. It’s sexy as fuck. I love it.’ He presses his lips to the sensitive skin just behind his earlobe. ‘You’re so hot, Peter, so tight and beautiful, shit . . . How’d I ever get this lucky?’ He kisses every part of Peter’s face he can reach, his cheek, his forehead, his nose, his eyelids.
It’s easier to relax now, but the warmth of it, the way Wade fills him up still makes him tremble, and with every thrust he squeezes Wade’s arm or waist, or grasps at the sheets, his breath coming in ragged gasps because how is it possible to feel this much at once?
‘Wanna come yet?’ Wade murmurs.
Peter shakes his head. ‘You . . . You first.’
‘That’s boring. Same time?’
Peter laughs in spite of himself. ‘Think you can pull that off?’
‘Baby, I’m so close I could shoot any second. Do you have any idea how hot you look right now?’
‘Probably . . . Probably about as hot as you look when I’m fucking you?’ Peter gasps.
Wade makes a purring noise deep in his throat. ‘There you go cussing and being so sexy again, Petey . . . How’s a fella meant to hold back?’
He makes a particularly hard motion with his hips, and Peter moans loudly because that thrust was perfectly angled. Wade reaches down between them and grabs Peter’s cock, stroking it slowly at first and then picking up speed. He locks his gaze to Peter’s and Peter decides that he’s not giving in, not looking away and not coming first.
Peter grits his teeth, tries to fight the feeling building in his lower abdomen and threatening to take over, to make him lose control. He clenches his muscles, trying to fight it. Apparently, this makes his ass tighten around Wade as well, because his lover groans and swears loudly. It’s almost like they’re up on the roof of Wade’s apartment building again, sparring, trading blows. It’s a competition, and one of them is going to lose.
Peter lost that time, and he realises as Wade rubs his thumb over the head of his dick that he’s going to lose again. He only tries to fight it for a moment longer. Then he throws his head back and lets go, his breath catching in his throat as he finds his release. To his surprise, Wade seems to let go at the exact same moment, and they ride it out together.
After, they clean themselves off with tissues, and Peter lies down with his head on Wade’s chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat. Wade runs long, strong fingers through Peter’s hair and kisses the top of his head softly.
‘If you wanna sleep for a bit I can wake you when it’s time to patrol,’ he tells him softly.
‘Mm, I am kind of tired,’ Peter admits. He hesitates for a moment, considering his words. Then he says, ‘That journalist, Trever Tate, he was on TV today. He was interviewed about his article about us.’
‘Really?’ Wade sounds disinterested, but Peter can feel the muscles of the arm he’s resting on tightening ever so slightly. ‘What did he say?’
Peter shrugs one shoulder. ‘Just a bunch of crap. They called you a mutant, of course. And then he talked about how bad people don’t just turn good or something like that. He wasn’t very convincing. But they’d talked to a few other people, too. The security guard from the bank last week, a clerk from a convenience store we saved, an almost rape victim, dark haired girl, remember her? And they all said they owed us, that they might be dead if it weren’t for us. It was . . . nice.’ He raises his head and looks at Wade. ‘We’re making a difference. We really are. We’re saving people. You’re saving people, Wade, and they’re grateful to you for it.’ He smiles. ‘I just thought you should know that.’
He gives Wade a soft kiss before resting his head on his chest again, and then, confident that Wade will wake him when it’s time to go out, Peter allows himself to drift off to sleep. |
This chapter contains violence. Like, more graphic than normal.
Chapter 18
Told you Peter was kinky.
Orgasm delay is hardly a kink.
I’m sure there’s more where that came from. It’s always the cute, innocent looking ones, you know?
Wade rolls his eyes. One day his brain is going to stop arguing with itself, but today is not that day, it seems. When he looks down at Peter’s sleeping form he can almost block out the noise, though. Almost.
At least we know our dick is bigger than his.
What? No it isn’t! We’re almost exactly the same size!
Almost exactly the same length. We have more girth.
‘Shut up!’ Wade groans quietly, and Peter stirs next to him.
Oh, well done, Wilson. You woke him up.
Peter’s hazel eyes open a crack and look up at Wade in the semi-darkness. ‘Hey,’ he murmurs, and lifts the hand resting on Wade’s chest, bringing it up to gently caress his cheek. ‘You okay?’
Wade smiles. ‘I’m always okay. How are you feeling?’
‘Sore,’ Peter admits with a grin. His fingers wander up to Wade’s temple. ‘Busy up there, huh?’
Wade pulls Peter tighter to him, because it somehow means a lot that Peter can tell. He sighs into Peter’s messy hair. ‘When is it ever not? Busy, busy. You quiet it some, though.’
‘Really?’
‘Really.’ Wade lets out another breath, closing his eyes for a moment and breathing in the scent of Peter’s hair. ‘Man, I don’t get it . . . I’m fucked up, Petey. I mean severely fucked up, like I shouldn’t even be functioning. Hell, half the time I don’t, not really. I’ve done so many fucked up things, my body is a mess, my brain is . . . Let’s not even talk about my brain. I don’t get why someone like you would want to be with someone like me. Why, when you could have someone like whatserface with the red hair and legs up to her tits?’
Peter presses a soft kiss to Wade’s cheek. ‘Because I don’t want her. I don’t want anyone other than you.’ Wade tries to pretend those words don’t put butterflies in his stomach and utterly fails. Peter sighs. ‘Besides, MJ and I . . . It was never quite right. From the start it . . .’ He trails off and bites his lip. ‘Do you even want to hear about this?’
Wade shrugs one shoulder. ‘Can’t say I’m not curious. Only if you wanna talk about it, though.’
Peter nods. ‘Okay. So, freshman year I started dating this girl, Gwen. She was . . .’ He pauses, and seems to consider his words carefully. ‘She was the prettiest girl I’d ever met, and the kindest. You know, she was just one of those genuinely good people.’
Like our Peter.
Bless him.
‘Yeah, I know the type,’ Wade murmurs fondly, pressing his lips to Peter’s temple.
‘She died,’ Peter says softly. His voice isn’t sad, exactly. More like melancholy, but accepting. ‘I couldn’t save her and she died. And while I was grieving her, MJ comforted me. And then comforting became flirting. She still had a boyfriend, even . . . That whole thing happened too fast, man. And that soured everything. About six months ago, she dumped me. She said it’s because she felt like she was still living in Gwen’s shadow, like I never got over her. Truth is, I never gave myself time to, and neither did she. I guess when someone you love dies like that, you never truly get over them, not the way you do when you break up or drift apart . . .’
‘Of course not.’ Wade runs his fingers through Peter’s hair. ‘And you’re not supposed to. She’ll always have a place in your heart. That’s just the way of things.’ He kisses the top of Peter’s head and smoothes back his hair. Cuddling is something he can definitely get used to.
‘You’re really insightful sometimes.’
‘I know, I surprise myself, too. What can I say? I’m smarter than I look. Not as smart as you, obviously, Dr. Genius McSmartypants.’
Peter laughs and shifts so he can reach Wade’s lips with his own. His tongue is like velvet, lips so soft, and he tastes so sweet, even through his I-just-woke-up-breath. ‘We should probably get out there soon,’ he whispers against Wade’s mouth. ‘Let’s go grab a shower.’
Wade smiles. ‘Hey, you know me. I’m always up for a shower.’
Patrolling is so much more fun when you’re freshly fucked and giddy. They break up a few fights, stop a couple of muggings, and Wade even gets to threaten a couple of bad guys with his guns. It’s a good night, and Wade knows he’s staring at Peter’s ass a little more than usual, but it’s only because all he can think about is how much he wants to go back to Peter’s bed for an encore of the evening’s earlier activities when they’re done. All in a day’s work when you’re working with (and fucking) Spider-Man.
It’s two in the morning and they’re about to do just that when a cry for help reaches them. They follow it to an alley (and isn’t it always an alley?), and a young man comes running out just as they reach the mouth of it.
‘Hey!’ Peter yells after him as he rushes down the street. ‘What—’
Wade puts a hand on his shoulder. ‘Uh, I don’t think he was the bad guy.’ He points.
In the dim light of a neon sign he can make out at least ten people, maybe more. They’re all dressed in black, and from what Wade can tell they’re all armed.
Ooh, a real fight!
‘And here I was so ready to go home, have a cup of tea and go to bed,’ says Peter with an exasperated sigh.
‘We’ll do that after,’ says Wade, drawing both his swords. ‘This looks like fun.’
One of the men in the alley pulls his gun just as Wade takes a step forward. Peter leaps out of the way, clinging to the wall of the alley. Wade takes a bullet to the chest.
‘Hey!’ he shouts indignantly. ‘You shot me! I should shoot you right back for that!’
‘Deadpool!’ Peter calls, an edge of warning in his tone.
Wade rolls his eyes. ‘Fine.’ He walks forward, into three oncoming bullets. ‘I guess I’ll just stick to hack-and-slash.’ And the fight is under way.
Now that they’re moving, Wade can count thirteen. They’re all wearing ski-masks, and their black attire appears identical, like a uniform. The get-up makes them look vaguely ninja-esque, but they haven’t got the moves of ninja. Several of them are big, though, and strong looking, and they all have guns, but in the close quarters of the alley they seem reluctant to fire them in case they hit their comrades. Wade and Peter don’t have that problem.
Peter is dodging, somersaulting, clinging to walls and thwipping webs at the baddies to trip them up or try to disarm them. Wade tries to avoid mortally wounding anyone, hitting them with the back edges and flats of his blades where he can.
If we’re gonna keep not killing, we should get backwards blades, like Kenshin.
Man, that was such a great anime . . . The live action movie left something to be desired, though.
Yeah, but the actors were hot!
‘Mutie bastards!’ Wade hears one of the bad guys shout. ‘Get Spider-Man!’
‘Oh, no you don’t!’ Wade hits the man who spoke in the throat with the grip of his sword and he staggers backwards, gasping for breath.
A gunshot rings out, echoing between the brick buildings, and Wade feels a stabbing pain in his back. Two more shots follow.
‘Keep Deadpool busy!’ another man shouts.
Wade turns around to find three guys coming at him with guns blazing. Behind them, he can see Peter jumping up onto a fire escape, shooting a web at someone’s gun and removing it from play.
‘You think the three of you can keep me busy?’ Wade taunts. ‘You won’t last ten fucking seconds!’
He knocks the closest off his feet by swinging the flat of his blade low. The other two fire six rounds into his chest before he manages to disarm one and knock the other back with an elbow to the ribs. A fourth guy comes at him with a long knife, but Wade has swords. In the split-second he has to think, he considers just slicing off the hand that holds the knife, but decides against it. Peter wouldn’t like it. Instead he presses the back of his blade to the man’s throat and grabs his arm, twisting it and effectively disarming him. A swift kick in the ribs sends him flying.
Another shot echoes through the night. It takes Wade half a second to realise that this one wasn’t aimed at him. It takes another half second to register the cry of pain that follows it. There’s a second shot, and it dawns on him, too slow, like his brain is coated in honey and the world is too fast.
Peter’s hit. They got Peter.
With a furious roar, Wade rushes through the throng like a running back, tackling the bad guys out of the way, until he reaches the back of the alley, a dead end, and sees Peter on the ground, bleeding profusely from his shoulder.
Is he breathing?
Is he alive?
Wade stares down at Peter’s prone form. He could be sleeping, like he was five hours ago when he was lying in Wade’s arms. The horrible thought hits him that Peter may never sleep in his arms again, may never kiss him or laugh at his bad jokes, never look at him like the scars aren’t even there, ever again, and Wade wants to cry. He wants to drop to his knees, check his pulse, make sure he lives, but there are nine men behind him still standing, and he doesn’t think they’re gonna stop coming. He turns around.
‘That,’ he growls, ‘was a really stupid thing to do!’ He points one of his blades at the nearest of them, one of the guys Peter already managed to disarm. The tip stops an inch from his throat. ‘I’m gonna give you fucks one chance to lay down your weapons and surrender.’
‘What are you guys waiting for? Shoot him!’ the man with Wade’s sword at his throat shouts frantically.
‘Wrong answer!’ says Wade darkly. He leaps forward and thrusts the tip of the blade straight through the man’s throat. It comes out the back of his neck covered in blood. Through the holes in his ski mask, Wade can see the man’s eyes popping. He pulls the blade back, and the man crumples to the ground with a gurgling noise and is still.
Now everything happens at once. The dead man’s comrades raise their guns, those who have them, and those who don’t come rushing at Wade with knives, fists, whatever they’ve got. Wade drops the sword in his left hand and draws his sidearm, intermittently firing at the ones furthest away while slashing at the ones nearest.
The next few minutes are a blur. Wade moves methodically, cool as ice while under the surface wildfire burns. He doesn’t try to spare them this time. Behind him lies Peter, bleeding and perhaps already dead, and these are the fucks that hurt him. They will pay with their lives. He ignores their screams, their cries of pain. He ignores the voices in his head telling him that Peter would not want this. He ignores everything else as he ends them, each and every one.
When it’s over he’s standing on a pile of corpses, covered in blood, the stench of death and viscera filling his nostrils. At this moment it’s familiar, almost comforting. This at least is something he knows. Then reality washes in over him, like a wave of nausea. He sheathes his weapons and staggers back to where Peter is lying. Still. Too still. Wade takes off his glove and sticks two fingers, shaking with adrenaline, under Peter’s mask. He can feel a weak pulse at his throat. He’s still alive, but barely. He has to get him out of here, now.
Wade is about to lift Peter’s prone body when he hears a noise at the mouth of the alley. Without thinking he draws his gun again and points it. ‘Out where I can see you!’
It’s the young man from earlier. His eyes are wide and he holds his hands in the air.
A victim?
No. A victim would have called the cops, or at the very least run away. This guy? Bait.
‘Come closer,’ Wade commands. He cocks the hammer on his gun. ‘Now!’
The kid does as he’s told. He’s Peter’s age, probably a little younger. He looks terrified. He stops a few feet away, the blood on the ground staining his white sneakers red.
‘This was a trap,’ says Wade. ‘I’ve figured that out already. You’re with these guys. Some of them may still be alive. I don’t rightly give a fuck. Whether you survive this is entirely dependent on you answering my questions. Understood?’
The boy nods.
‘Good. Was this a trap for us specifically or were you hoping for any old superhero?’
‘It-it was for y-you,’ the young man stutters.
‘Who are you people? Who do you represent?’
‘Th-the Anti-Mutant Defence L-league.’
‘And how would I go about finding the folks in charge of your little gang?’
The kid shakes his head, mouth opening and closing comically. ‘I-I don’t know, I swear! I’m new, totally junior!’
He’s lying!
No, he’s telling the truth. Look at his face, his body language. Kid’s shitting himself. He couldn’t lie right now if his life depended on it.
Wade takes his gun off the kid and holsters it. ‘Fine. I believe you.’ He stands up and picks Peter up in a fireman’s lift. ‘When you talk to your contacts, you tell them they’ve made a huge fucking mistake. You tell them that Deadpool will find them, and end them. Nobody comes after Spider-Man on my watch. Nobody. Got it?’
The kid nods frantically.
Wade pulls up Peter’s sleeve and detaches his web-shooter. He straps it to his own wrist and uses it to hoist them up onto a fire escape. He climbs to the roof with Peter over his shoulders, and then sets about parkouring his way north across the city’s rooftops, towards the Bronx. |
Hurt/comfort
Chapter 19
It’s dark. It’s pitch-black, and there are sounds in the darkness. Rustling and shuffling, and a voice humming quietly. He wonders why it’s so dark, and why it’s so hard to move, and what that smell is. Then a sharp, stabbing pain in his shoulder makes its presence known, and he realises two things: that the smell is alcohol, and that it’s dark because his eyes are closed.
With great effort, Peter opens his eyes. He’s met by a cracked ceiling with a few suspicious looking stains on it. Blinking twice, because it’s hard to focus, he lets his gaze slide from the ceiling onto a bare brick wall to his left. Looking to the other side, his gaze falls upon a worn couch, a chair, a large TV, a standing lamp and a thick, orange shag rug. The yellow light of street lamps creeps in through windows he can’t see from his current vantage point. He knows this place.
In addition to the stabby pain, Peter feels a dull ache in the front of his head and his temples, though in truth, now that he’s taken the time to notice, he realises that his entire body hurts. He also realises that he appears to be nearly naked. The blankets feel soft on his bare skin, though he seems to be wearing underwear.
His ears pick up the sound of humming again, and recognise the tune as something from a Disney film. He looks for the source of the sound, and at the foot of his mattress he notices a figure in a slightly blood stained Pantera t-shirt, cleaning a few metal instruments with disinfectant wipes. Wade.
‘Hey,’ says Peter. At least that’s what he means to say, but his throat is so dry it comes out as an inarticulate croak and he coughs weakly.
Wade looks up from his work, brown eyes wide with surprise. Then he drops the forceps he’s holding and they fall to the floor with a clatter. He scoots closer and takes Peter’s hand. ‘You’re awake,’ he mumbles. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d . . . I worried.’ He lifts a glass of water from the floor and brings it to Peter’s lips to let him drink.
The cool water running down his throat is the most wonderful thing Peter has ever felt. After a couple of blissful sips he takes a deep breath and asks, ‘What happened?’
‘You got shot.’ Wade’s eyes are still wide. He looks almost shocked, like he can’t quite believe Peter is speaking to him. ‘Twice, in the shoulder. One of the shits that attacked us had steady aim. I took the bullets out and stitched you up while you were out.’
Peter notes that his shoulder is indeed bandaged in clean, white gauze, and raises his eyebrows in surprise. ‘You fixed me?’
Wade shrugs one shoulder. ‘I couldn’t exactly take you to a hospital. Didn’t leave me a lot of options, really.’
‘You could have taken me to the Baxter building,’ Peter points out. ‘Reed’s stitched me up a whole bunch of times.’
The ghost of a smile flutters across Wade’s features. ‘I know how to patch up a bullet wound, Parker. Besides, if I’d showed up there carrying a Spider-Man full of holes, Richards and his little gang would have thought I put them in you.’
Peter gives a soft laugh and winces at the fresh pain it provokes from his shoulder. ‘Point taken.’
‘Here.’ Wade reaches for a brown paper bag at the foot of the mattress and pulls out a small, orange plastic container full of oblong white pills. He takes two out and brings his hand to Peter’s lips. ‘Prescription strength. Open wide.’
Peter opens his mouth and Wade tips the pills inside before offering more water. Peter swallows the pills without hesitation. ‘Guess it’s too much to hope that these were legally obtained?’
Wade shrugs one shoulder. ‘I know a guy. Believe it or not, I need pain relief sometimes, and the regular over the counter kind don’t cut it. I can’t exactly go to a doctor, so . . .’ He takes Peter’s hand again and lifts it gently, pressing his knuckles to his lips. ‘I am so fucking glad you’re alive, Petey,’ he all but whispers. ‘For a moment, I thought—’ He cuts himself off, looking away. ‘It wasn’t so bad, though. Bullets hit mostly soft tissue, didn’t shatter any bone or damage the cartilage. You should be back in fighting shape again soon. It might scar, though. I’m sorry.’
Peter smiles softly, and does his best to squeeze the hand holding his. ‘Thank you, Wade,’ he says emphatically, because more than ever he really means it. ‘What is that, the fifth time you save my life?’
Wade grins. ‘I dunno, I lost count. Anyway, you don’t need to thank me. A world without you in it is just . . .’ He trails off and shrugs again, shaking his head.
Peter feels his eyelids begin to grow heavy once more and supposes the painkillers must be kicking in. Wade’s bed is a soft nest of pillows and blankets. It feels almost like floating on a cloud. ‘As soon as I’m better I’ll thank you properly,’ he murmurs sleepily. ‘I think I’m gonna go back to sleep now . . .’
‘Of course, baby boy,’ says Wade, kissing his hand again. His warm, rough lips feel soothing and familiar on Peter’s skin. ‘You just rest now. I’ll be right here.’
‘An’ you’re sure it was the AMDL?’ Logan’s voice is its usual gruff self over the phone, but Wade thinks he can hear a hint of emotion in it. Worry, perhaps?
Yes, because Wolverine has such a good track record of showing concern for our wellbeing.
Wade ignores his mind. ‘Yeah. The bait came back. I threatened him. He told me who they were.’
‘You didn’t kill ‘im?’
Come to think of it, why didn’t we kill him?
Wade pauses for a moment, glancing over at Peter’s sleeping form. ‘No,’ he says at last. ‘I let him go. He was unarmed. Just a lackey.’
Logan gives a deep grunt in response. ‘That’s unlike you.’
‘Yeah. Guess I’ve gone soft.’
‘Seems your boy’s been good for ya. Glad you managed to keep ‘im alive, bub.’
‘I still murdered the shit out of all the others,’ says Wade quietly. ‘I’ll have a hell of a time explaining that to him once he thinks to ask.’
‘Yeah, well, he ain’t like you an’ me, Wade. Two of us, we gotta fight our nature. Him . . . He’s the real deal. A better angel.’
‘You don’t have to tell me that.’ Wade sighs. ‘So, you’ll follow up on the intel?’
‘Ain’t much to go on,’ Logan says, sounding surly as ever. ‘But we’ll do what we can. You just keep your boy outta trouble in the meantime.’ A brief silence follows. ‘Wade, I’m real sorry. If we’d known they’d gotten this big a foothold in New York City, we coulda warned ya. I’m sorry Spider-Man got hurt. He’s a good kid.’
‘He is. But it’s not your fault.’ Over on the mattress, Peter shifts and makes a small noise. ‘I gotta go. He’s waking up again. Let me know if you turn anything up, okay?’
‘Will do.’
Wade hangs up the phone and walks over to kneel next to Peter. He brushes brown hair away from Peter’s sweaty brow, and Peter opens his eyes.
‘Hey,’ says Wade.
‘Hey,’ Peter responds. He smiles, starts to push himself up into a sitting position, and winces. ‘Ow. How long was I asleep?’ He gives up and lies back down against the pillows.
Wade shrugs. ‘Couple of hours. You slept like the dead. How are you feeling?’
‘Like I’ve been shot,’ Peter deadpans.
‘Want some more painkillers?’
‘Maybe just the one this time? I haven’t got your tolerance, you know.’
Wade smiles in spite of everything. ‘Dude, I have to take like six of those for them to have the effect an aspirin would have on you.’
He administers a pill to Peter, and proceeds to fuss over his pillows and blankets for a few minutes, more for something to do than anything else.
’So,’ says Peter after some moments. ‘What actually happened?’
‘You got shot,’ Wade repeats.
‘I know that, but I mean . . . What happened after that?’
Wade quits his fussing and sits back on his heels, looking everywhere but Peter’s face. He’s been waiting for this, but he hoped it would take a little longer for Peter to get to the asking stage.
We could just make something up.
No. We can’t lie to Peter. He’ll see right through us, and even if he doesn’t he’ll find out eventually. We have to tell him the truth.
‘Wade?’ says Peter softly.
‘I—’ Wade cuts himself off and swallows. ‘You were Schrödinger’s Spidey, I didn’t know if you were alive or dead. There were nine of them still in fighting shape.’ He pauses, swallows again, works his jaw for several moments. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, and then he finally turns his gaze on Peter again, because he has to be honest about this, no matter how brutal it is. ‘I killed them. All of them. Shot some, stabbed the rest. It was quick, relatively speaking. I had to get them out of the way so I could get you to safety.’ Wade pauses again, but when Peter doesn’t say anything he barrels on. ‘When they were all dead, the kid from before showed up, the one who ran away when we got there. I got him to tell me that they were with the Anti-Mutant Defence League. Then I let him go.’
Finally, Peter speaks. ‘But you killed all the others.’
Wade shrugs. ‘Some of the ones we’d already knocked out, they might still be alive. I don’t know, and honestly, I don’t rightly give a shit.’
It’s Peter’s turn to look away now, pained expression on his face. ‘So after everything, you still don’t get it.’
Anger flares up in Wade’s stomach, crushing his lungs and tearing his heart in two. He gets to his feet before he even knows he’s doing it. ‘No, you don’t get it!’ he growls through gritted teeth, and it’s all he can do not to shout. ‘I didn’t know if you were even alive, okay? I just knew that if there was any chance of saving you, any at all, I had to take it. You don’t understand, Peter! If I lost you, if I let you die when there was something I could do to prevent it, I—’ Wade bites his lip furiously and runs a hand across his scalp. ‘I couldn’t live. Okay? I couldn’t fucking live knowing that I let a light like yours go out of this world, and I would have to! Don’t you see that? I would have to live with the guilt and the heartache and all of it, knowing that you were gone, because I. Can’t. Fucking. Die! And I couldn’t cope with that.’
They stare at each other for several long moments. Wade can’t tell what Peter’s thinking, doesn’t know what’s going on behind those wide hazel eyes. In the end, Wade looks away in defeat.
‘I’ll go,’ he says softly, and all the fight has gone out of him. ‘You can stay here as long as you need to, there’s enough Mexican food and Chinese take-out in the mini fridge to feed a normal person for a week, so . . . I’ll just go.’ He starts to turn away.
‘Wade.’ Peter’s tone is firm, almost commanding, and Wade turns back to face him despite his better judgment. ‘You’re not going anywhere. Come on, come here.’
Like a moth to a flame, Wade is drawn helplessly back to Peter’s side. He crouches next to him, feeling equal parts trepidation and relief as Peter reaches for his hand and grasps it firmly in his own. He scoots closer to the wall and lifts the covers. ‘Here, get in.’
Carefully, Wade slides in next to him, pulling the covers over them both. Peter places Wade’s scarred hand on his smooth, bare chest, right above his heart.
‘I’m sorry,’ says Peter at last. ‘I have no right to judge you for doing what you felt was necessary, I just . . .’ He sighs. ‘Too many people have died because of me. My uncle? I could have stopped the man who killed him before he ever got that far and I didn’t. Gwen was kidnapped and murdered by one of my enemies and I couldn’t save her. That kind of guilt, it . . . It can make a person a little crazy, I guess. I don’t want to be responsible for any more deaths.’
‘Well, you’re not,’ Wade says firmly. ‘Those fuckers chose to attack us. They lured us there, and they had every intention of killing us. You’re not responsible for them. The assholes who sent them down that alley are. The AMDL are to blame for their deaths, and I guess I am too, to an extent. But certainly not you. None of this shit is on you, baby boy. None of it.’
Peter nods. ‘Yeah, I know. I know that, rationally. Anyway, I’m sorry.’ He turns his head and meets Wade’s gaze. ‘And I’m grateful. You saved my life, again, and you put me back together. So thank you.’
Wade feels Peter’s heartbeat under his palm. It’s strong and healthy, pumping blood and life through Peter’s body, and Wade feels something tighten in his own chest. When he speaks, he thinks his voice sounds strained. ‘Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re alive.’
Peter smiles, eyes glinting in the early morning light seeping in through the windows. ‘Kiss me?’ he asks softly, and Wade does. |
More porn, and hey! Finally some omo mentions again! (I promise, there will be more omo, just wait like 3 chapters.)
Chapter 20
When Peter wakes up he’s alone on the mattress, though the spot next to him is still warm. He blinks blearily and looks around until he finds Wade seated on the floor a little ways off, polishing his sword. Literally, not euphemistically. Sunlight streams in through the windows.
Wade appears to notice his movement, looks up and smiles at Peter. He stands, sheathing his sword and carrying it to his weapons locker next to the mattress, and then comes to sit, legs crossed, on the floor next to Peter. He runs a hand over Peter’s hair.
‘How are you feeling?’
Peter shrugs his uninjured shoulder. ‘Better than can be expected, probably.’
Wade grins. ‘Good! Any pain? Want another painkiller?’
‘Couldn’t hurt, I guess,’ says Peter.
Wade reaches for the pill bottle and the glass of water on the floor and administers an oblong white pill to Peter, who swallows it gratefully. ‘You hungry? You have the excellent choice between cold tacos and cold chow mein. I’d make you pancakes, but . . .’ He gestures towards the closed kitchen door. ‘Like I’ve said. Total bio-hazard area. When you’re up to walking I’ll take you home and make you pancakes there.’
Peter smiles wryly. ‘Way you go on about your kitchen, I’m starting to wonder if it’s just a cover-up and that’s where you stash the bodies.’
Wade snorts and gestures dismissively. ‘Nah, man! I don’t stash bodies, I scatter them like decorations, leave them for people to find. More fun that—’ He cuts himself off, looking away, his grin abruptly gone. ‘Sorry. Bad joke.’
Peter can’t help but agree, but chooses to remain silent on the matter. Instead he shifts slightly on the mattress and suddenly notices how badly he needs to pee.
‘Help me up?’ he asks softly. ‘Kinda really need to go to the bathroom.’
Wade nods vigorously and stands up. ‘Sure thing, baby boy. Can’t have you pissing yourself.’ He helps Peter gently to his feet. ‘I mean, unless you’re into that. I’m kinda into that,’ he rambles, while Peter puts his arm around his neck and they begin walking towards the bathroom. ‘Haven’t done it in a long time, though. I mean, it’s not a huge kink, just a—’ Wade stops talking abruptly. ‘You know what? Never mind. My brain has reminded me that this isn’t something you’d wanna hear about, so forget I said anything.’
‘Um, sure,’ says Peter, feeling mildly bewildered. His mind is brought briefly back to the time Wade was shot in the head and lost control of his bladder. He finds himself wondering if Wade enjoyed that. Urine doesn’t bother him, per se, but it’s not exactly a turn-on either.
They reach the bathroom and Wade opens the door for him. ‘You okay from here? Need me to hold your dick for you?’ He grins again.
In spite of everything, Peter chuckles. ‘No, I’ll be okay.’
Peter’s legs feel like jelly, so he pulls down his boxers and sits on the toilet, not trusting himself to stand. Wade’s bathroom is surprisingly clean, if cold. He’s suddenly very aware that he’s only in his underwear, his nipples budding to hard pebbles against the chill. Through the closed door he can hear Wade moving around the living room, muttering to himself.
He sighs, resting his head in his hands. If he’s honest with himself, what Wade did still bothers him. That Wade would kill for him if the need arises has never been in question, of course—hell, Wade would probably kill for a chimichanga—but Peter had hoped that it would never come to that. Of course, he hadn’t counted on armed vigilantes coming after them, either. In Wade’s position, what would he have done? Would he have run before he would kill? Would he have found a way to dispatch the enemy without seriously hurting anyone? And in the end, does any of this really matter?
He thinks about Wade, about his muscular body and strong arms, about the way he fights and the way he fucks, and suddenly Peter’s pulse is racing and his body is responding to vivid images in his mind. Wade kissing him, holding him, sucking him off. Wade on his back under him, or on top of him. Wade’s hands, mouth, fingers, tongue. Wade, his Wade who would do anything for him, who would die for him if he could. Peter knows it to be true. If Wade could die, he would sacrifice himself in a heartbeat if it meant saving Peter’s life. And Peter knows he would do the same for him. He just doesn’t know if he could kill for him. When did Wade become this important to him? They haven’t even been together all that long, and yet . . .
Wade’s words echo in Peter’s brain. I couldn’t fucking live knowing that I let a light like yours go out of this world, and I would have to! Only the remains of Peter’s anger made him not fall apart when those words were spoken. He kept it together through sheer force of will. As much as Peter has loved and been loved before, he knows that he’s never been loved like that.
Peter manages to get off the toilet and wash his hands, before he opens the door. Wade is there almost at once, slipping an arm around his waist to support him, and Peter can’t help but smile.
‘So, how about it? You want some food?’ Wade asks.
Peter purses his lips. ‘I dunno. I don’t really feel all that hungry . . .’
Wade shakes his head. ‘You need to eat if you’re gonna heal, Petey-Pie. You don’t have my healing factor, remember?’
‘Yes, mom,’ says Peter, rolling his eyes. ‘Maybe just a taco, then.’
‘Of course!’ Wade helps him back down onto the mattress and goes to the fridge. ‘After you’ve eaten we should see about changing your bandage. You’ve, uh, started to bleed through.’
Peter looks down at his bandage and discovers a red stain in the gauze. ‘Huh. Didn’t even notice.’
‘Those painkillers are pretty awesome.’ Wade returns to the mattress and hands him a taco out of a paper bag.
Peter eats mostly in silence, and Wade prattles on, sometimes to Peter and sometimes to himself, while doing something on his laptop (‘Just web-stalking Ryan Reynolds, the movie’s coming soon,’ he says when asked). When they’re done, Wade gets to work replacing Peter’s bandages. He rubs his hands up with disinfectant and removes the blood-stained gauze with great care, examining the wounds.
‘Looks pretty good,’ he says. ‘Not that I actually know much about this sorta thing, but there’s no pus or nothing.’ He cleans around the wounds with a cotton ball soaked in disinfectant. It stings, and Peter bites his lip and shuts his eyes. ‘Sorry, gorgeous,’ says Wade softly. ‘Almost done. You’re doing great.’ One of the bullet holes has started to scab over, but the other is still bleeding freely, though not too badly.
Wade puts a gauze compress over the wounds and wraps up Peter’s shoulder in fresh bandages, taking great care to get it even. ‘There, all done,’ he says when the bandages are in place, kissing Peter on the top of his head. ‘You should get some more rest.’
‘I’m not sleepy,’ says Peter, pouting up at him. He slides sideways on the mattress and pulls the covers aside. ‘Get in with me again?’
Wade gives him a gentle smile. ‘I can do that.’
Peter manoeuvres himself so he’s supporting himself on his uninjured shoulder, cheek resting on Wade’s t-shirt clad pec. Wade puts his arms around him, sliding his fingers through Peter’s hair, and Peter shuts his eyes with a sigh. Wade is warm and his touch is gentle, and suddenly all Peter wants is more of that touch. He moves closer, slips his leg over Wade’s, cranes his neck to touch his lips to Wade’s throat. His hand snakes down the front of Wade’s t-shirt and slips underneath the hem to slide across the marred flesh of his abdomen. Wade makes a small noise of surprise as Peter scrapes his teeth gently across his skin, before slipping his fingers into the waistband of Wade’s pants.
‘Not that I’m complaining or nothing,’ Wade says weakly, ‘but you sure you’re up for this?’
Peter tongues his earlobe. ‘Want you,’ he murmurs.
Wade lets out a shaky breath, the hand in Peter’s hair tightening it’s grip momentarily, and Peter can feel the larger man’s cock twitch against his thigh. ‘Okay, but then we do this my way. You’re injured, I don’t want you hurting yourself. Lie on your back, baby boy.’
Peter does as he’s told, and Wade sits up, pulling off his t-shirt and pants as he goes. Then he straddles Peter’s hips and leans down to kiss him, rough fingers caressing the skin of Peter’s neck. Peter kisses him back eagerly, wasting no time in pressing his tongue into Wade’s mouth, tasting him. There’s a lingering taste of jalapeños after the tacos. It makes Peter smile into the kiss, because some things with Wade are constant. Some things are always right.
Wade pinches one of Peter’s nipples between his fingers, and Peter grinds his pelvis up against him, his hardening dick pressing against Wade’s thigh through the fabric of their respective underwear. Wade moans into his mouth.
‘Fuck,’ he whispers, pulling back a bit. ‘Need you in me!’
Peter closes his eyes and lets out a shuddering breath, because that sounds like a really, really good idea. Wade gives him another deep kiss before he starts moving further down, lips and tongue making a trail down Peter’s smooth chest and stomach. He pulls down Peter’s boxers and all but swallows him whole, and Peter throws his head back with a loud groan.
He loses himself in the feel of Wade’s lips and tongue on him, the warmth of his mouth, and dimly manages to think that this has to be the best painkiller ever, because through the haze of pleasure he can barely even feel the ache of the bullet wounds, or the bruises from the fight.
Far too soon, Wade releases Peter’s dick from his mouth with a soft pop and nuzzles into his pubic hair for a moment before getting up. ‘I’ll be right back, precious,’ he promises. Peter watches him saunter to the bathroom. His ass looks amazing in bright blue satin boxer-briefs, and if Peter wasn’t feeling so weak he would get up, run after him and give it a good smack because, damn!
Wade doesn’t take long to return, carrying a bottle of lube of what one might refer to as respectable size. He takes off his blue boxers (he’s sporting a magnificent hard-on that Peter under different circumstances would long to taste) and straddles Peter’s hips again, coating his fingers in lube and getting to work prepping himself. Peter feels slightly jealous of Wade’s fingers, but watching him do it to himself is a fairly spectacular experience, and Peter gives his own dick a few strokes instead.
Wade is at the moaning and panting stage by the time he finally lowers himself onto Peter’s cock. He’s tight and warm and slippery, and Peter bites his lip and almost whimpers with the pleasure of it. Once he’s all the way inside, Wade begins to ride him, eyes half closed as he moves with slow deliberation. Peter thinks it might be the hottest thing he’s ever seen.
Wade gasps. ‘Shit, Pete, you feel so good! Oh, you’re perfect, baby boy, fuck!’
Peter reaches down and takes Wade’s dick in his hand, matching the speed with which Wade is riding him, and Wade moans loudly when Peter’s thumb slips over the glans, wet with pre-cum. He begins to move faster, and then he leans forward, finds Peter’s mouth and brings their lips together in a deep and passionate kiss.
Peter grips Wade by the hips and fucks up into him, hard, ignoring the aches in his body, and Wade grunts, a deep and primal sound, as Peter’s thrusts hit his prostate.
‘Wade!’ Peter manages to say. ‘Wade, I’m close, God . . . So close!’
Wade looks into Peter’s eyes, pupils blown. ‘Me too.’ Then he kisses Peter again, and the feel of his tongue against his own is enough to push Peter over the edge, and he comes with a gasp and a cry of ecstasy. Peter reaches for Wade’s dick and jerks him off. It only takes a few strokes for Wade to come as well, collapsing on top of him and only narrowly missing his injured shoulder with his forehead.
They lie there together for a few minutes, panting, before Wade gets off him and flops down on his back next to him.
‘Well,’ says Peter breathlessly after a moment, ‘that was . . . That was great. My God . . .’
‘Mm,’ Wade replies. ‘It really was.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I wasn’t sure if . . . I mean, I didn’t know if you’d want to be with me after . . . After that. After what I did.’
Peter turns his head to look at him, and finds Wade’s brown eyes looking back, full of sincerity.
‘For what it’s worth,’ Wade continues, ‘I am sorry. I mean, I’m not, not in the way I should be, probably. But . . . I want to do better. For you.’
Peter sighs and turns his eyes towards the cracked ceiling, chewing his lip. ‘I won’t pretend that it doesn’t still bother me,’ he says softly. ‘But I’ve been . . . I’ve been a real dick to you in the past, over things you’ve done, even when your intentions were good. You’ve saved my life so many times, and I’ve treated you like crap in return, when I should have been grateful. I should understand that sometimes you’ve got to do what you’ve got to do. I need to learn to accept that.’
Wade turns over on his side and grabs his hand, squeezing it tight between both his own. ‘No, you don’t. Peter, look at me.’ Peter does. Wade’s expression is intense. ‘You are incredible. I mean it, I can hardly believe that someone like you exists, let alone that you’d be interested in me. The fact that we’re even friends, the fact that you want to be with me, I can’t even wrap my head around all that. And yeah, you give me a hard time, but you’re teaching me to be better. I want to be better. The fact that you’ll tell me what you’re thinking, that you won’t let feelings or sex or whatever get in the way of telling me when I’ve been an asshole, and then forgive me for it, that’s exactly what I love about you, and I never, ever want you to change. Ever.’
Licking his lips, Peter blinks a couple of times. Part of his brain got caught on a word towards the end, and it takes him a while to catch the rest of it. He feels simultaneously moved and like the biggest jerk ever, because all he ever does is try to change Wade. And then his mind moves back to that word and he has to swallow a couple of times before he can speak.
‘You love me?’ he asks, voice barely above a whisper.
Wade blinks. ‘What? I . . . I said that? Did I say that? Oh. Um.’ He clears his throat. ‘Apparently I did say that. Um. Yeah.’ He nods slowly. ‘Yeah, I guess I do.’
Without a word, Peter rolls over on his side and captures Wade’s lips with his own. He blinks back tears, kissing him like he’s never kissed him before, hoping that this kiss can convey everything he’s feeling, because he’s sure he could never adequately put it into words. That he loves him, that he’s sorry, that he doesn’t want to change anything about Wade that Wade doesn’t want to change about himself.
When they finally break apart, they’re both panting again. Peter places a single, chaste kiss on Wade’s lips and whispers, ‘I love you, too.’ |
Got home so late last night I forgot about this. Here's chapter 21! Now with 100% more crossdressing.
Chapter 21
The next day, after making absolutely certain that no one suspicious is watching his building, Wade takes Peter home. He’s managed to find some clothes that aren’t catastrophically big on the younger man, and they both dress in civvies and take the subway to Peter’s place. Once there, Wade changes the dressings on Peter’s bullet wounds (they’re healing nicely despite his inferior regenerative powers) and tucks him into bed. Then, after concluding that Peter’s fridge is painfully low on tasty food, he goes shopping.
He buys bread and cheese and milk, salami and bacon, flour and sugar, eggs, pasta, roast chicken, taco stuff (because that’s just a given) and everything else he can think of.
Are we planning on fattening up Peter?
The Spider-Man thing gives him a high metabolism; I don’t think we can.
‘We’re keeping him fed so he can heal,’ Wade mutters under his breath, and the clerk looks at him funny while bagging his purchases, as if she wasn’t already trying not to stare at Wade’s marred face, just visible under his hood. Wade pretends he doesn’t notice, pays the woman and thanks her.
When he gets back to Peter’s apartment, he puts everything away, gets changed, and starts bustling around the place to clean. While it’s fairly tidy, Peter obviously doesn’t have much time for housework, so Wade sets about doing dishes, sweeping the floors (he doesn’t want to wake Peter, so he doesn’t use the vacuum), and has even had time to do a couple rounds of laundry by the time he hears movement in the bedroom.
A few minutes later, just as Wade is dusting the bookshelf, Peter appears in the doorway, wearing stripy pyjama bottoms and nothing else. He looks less pale than he did yesterday, and doesn’t seem to have bled through his dressings.
‘Man, I slept like the—’ He pauses when he sees Wade, and blinks. ‘Is . . . Is that a French maid outfit?’
‘Pretty hot, right?’ Wade gives a twirl. He’s wearing white stockings and long white gloves with the gothic lolita-ish black dress and white apron. Usually he’d wear his mask, but he knows Peter likes to see his face (even if that makes absolutely no sense), so instead he’s wearing a curly, platinum blonde wig that he got to wear as part of a Marilyn Monroe outfit a while back.
Oh, we are so hot!
And pretty. Don’t forget pretty.
‘Where’d you get the feather duster?’
Wade shrugs. ‘It came with the outfit. Finding one in my size was a chore, I’ll tell ya, but in the end I only had to modify this baby a tiny bit to make it fit. Luckily, I’m handy with a needle and thread.’
Peter continues to look dumbfounded for all of five seconds, before he smiles and sits down on the couch. ‘It looks cute on you.’
Our Petey called us cute! Yay!
Wade grins. ‘I packed it on a whim when we left my place this morning,’ he says, continuing to dust the shelf. ‘A sexy nurse outfit would probably have been more appropriate, what with me looking after you and all, but I’m not terribly fond of playing doctor. I mean, medical shit kinda freaks me out, you know? Hospitals still give me the creeps . . . All clinical and sterile . . .’
‘I never really got the sexy nurse thing, myself,’ Peter admits. ‘Like, “Ooh, let me stick you with this needle and give you medicine that makes you super groggy!” Yeah, real hot.’
‘Right?’ Wade shakes his head. ‘Now, a maid on the other hand . . .’ He turns to Peter, adopting a subservient pose with his eyes downcast and his shoulders low. Pitching his voice up half an octave, he says meekly, ‘I’ve finished cleaning your home, Master Parker. Is there anything else I can do for you?’ He cocks his head slightly to one side and glances up at Peter shyly. ‘Make you lunch, perhaps? Wash your feet?’ He looks away again. ‘Suck your dick?’
When he looks back at Peter again, he finds him biting his lip. Peter seems to take a deep breath. ‘Start with lunch, maybe?’ he says. ‘I’m actually kind of hungry . . .’
Wade gives him a grin. ‘Of course! I’ll make us a fucking mountain of sandwiches, dude. But first . . .’ He approaches Peter and takes a blanket from the armrest of the couch. ‘Lean forward.’ He drapes the blanket around Peter’s bare shoulders and then kisses his forehead. ‘There you go, Master Parker. Can’t have you getting cold!’
Peter smiles, and Wade thinks he notes a faint pink tinge in his cheeks before he heads over to the kitchen to make them some sandwiches.
‘With the state of my kitchen, I don’t really have much cause to cook,’ he says conversationally. ‘That’ll be my excuse when this turns out shit.’
Peter laughs. ‘How badly can you screw up a sandwich?’
‘Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’ Wade puts on a pot of coffee while he messily layers mayo, lettuce, tomato and salami between slices of white bread until he has created the promised mountain of food. He returns to Peter in the couch with a plate piled high with sandwiches, before returning to the kitchen to fetch the coffee pot and two mugs.
‘Dude, what are you even talking about? Best sandwiches ever!’ Peter digs in with enthusiasm, and Wade is glad to see he seems to have his appetite back.
Think he’s got an appetite for other things as well?
Don’t be an idiot! He’s still hurt.
Yeah, but we are wearing this super hot outfit . . .
Wade ignores the boxes (he seems to be doing that more and more these days) and instead chatters on to Peter about everything that crosses his mind. Soon all the sandwiches are gone, with Wade having somehow managed to eat about two thirds of them while keeping up a constant stream of words.
‘So, what do you wanna do now, baby boy?’ he asks, picking up the empty plate and carrying it to the sink.
Peter shrugs. ‘We could watch a movie or something.’
‘Ooh! Yes! You got any Disney?’
Peter hums thoughtfully. ‘Check the shelf by the TV. I think I might have Beauty and the Beast . . .’
Wade chews his chapped lip. ‘Yeah, something else, then.’
‘Don’t like that one?’
Wade shrugs one shoulder and looks away. ‘Nah, it’s a good movie, but . . . I guess it always struck a little close to home, ya know? Only I won’t ever turn back into a handsome prince.’
‘Hey.’ Peter’s tone is sharp, and Wade forces himself to meet his gaze only to find that it is as soft and kind as it has ever been. ‘You’re a handsome prince to me. Always will be. Or, you know, princess, as the case may be.’ He eyes Wade’s skirt pointedly and grins.
Wade smiles in spite of himself and walks over to the DVD shelf. Studying the titles for a few moments he finally picks out Airplane! because that one fucking never gets old, and puts it on. He sits in the couch and is extremely happy to find that Peter snuggles up to him, resting his cheek on Wade’s chest and playing with the lace on the bodice of his maid outfit while Wade flips through the menus.
Wade spends most of the movie doing a quote-along, and botches the lines on purpose after an early mistake made Peter laugh.
This is an old movie, though. Like, does he even get these jokes?
Shh, you’re gonna make us feel old!
Only a few minutes remain of the movie when Wade realises that Peter has fallen asleep in his arms. By the time the credits roll he considers whether to just cover him in more blankets and let him nap on the couch, but eventually comes to the decision that he will be more comfortable in his bed. So Wade carefully lifts Peter and carries him bridal style into his bedroom. He tucks him in and is about to head out into the kitchen to get started on dinner when Peter grabs his wrist.
‘Hey,’ he murmurs sleepily, blinking up at Wade. ‘Where are you going?’
‘Just gonna make us some dinner, Petey-Pie,’ Wade assures him with a smile.
‘Okay.’ Peter lets go of his wrist. ‘Kiss?’
That’s it. Our heart is seriously going to melt.
Wade bends forward and places a chaste kiss on Peter’s lips. ‘Now, you get some rest, Master Parker. Let ol’ DP take care of you.’ He straightens up and walks towards the door.
‘Your legs look seriously hot in that outfit, you know,’ says Peter softly. ‘Not that your legs aren’t always amazing.’
Wade chuckles. ‘Flattery will get you absolutely everywhere with me, baby boy.’
‘’S not flattery if it’s true . . .’
Wade turns around and is about to say something more when he realises that Peter’s eyes are closed, and the steady rise and fall of his chest tells him that he’s fallen asleep again. He tip toes out of the room and quietly shuts the door behind him.
‘I feel pretty, oh so pretty! I feel pretty and witty and GAY! And I pity any girl who isn’t me today . . .’
We love that song!
Yes, that’s why we’re singing it.
Wade flips the steaks and sprinkles some salt on them. When the juices start to flow he takes one of them out of the pan (he likes his steak carried through a warm room) and flips the other a second time, sprinkling salt onto the other side.
‘I feel charming, oh so charming! It’s alarming how charming I feel! And so pretty that I hardly can believe I’m real!’
‘You look pretty, too,’ says a voice, and Wade turns around and grins.
‘Baby boy! You’re awake!’
Peter is standing in the doorway to the bedroom. He laughs. ‘Hard to sleep through that, really.’
Wade shrugs. ‘Didn’t mean to wake ya, but dinner is almost done. You like your steak medium, right?’
Peter nods and comes over to lean against the counter island, resting his elbows on the countertop. He’s put on a worn, grey t-shirt with a washed out, unintelligible band logo over his pyjama pants. ‘Mm, smells amazing!’
‘I got potatoes baking in the oven, and greens! Gotta eat your greens, Petey, so you grow up big and strong! Spidey widey Petey-Pie kissed the girls and made them cry, kissed the girls and made them cry, kissed the girls and made them high . . . I’m not so systematic, it’s just that I’m an addict foooor your loooooove!’
Peter raises an eyebrow. ‘You’re in a good mood.’
Wade turns off the stove and flips the second steak onto a plate. He sprinkles them both with black pepper and turns to Peter. ‘How could I not be? My beautiful boyfriend is safe and healing, and we’re about to have a spectacular meal together.’ He leans across the island and kisses Peter gently on the lips. ‘I’ve got everything I could possibly want.’
Wade gets the potatoes out of the oven and piles their plates high with food before carrying them over to the table. As they sit down, Peter reaches over and fingers a strand of the platinum blonde wig.
‘What colour was your hair?’ he asks suddenly. ‘You know, before . . .’
Wade picks up his knife and fork. ’Depends on the writer, or the cartoonist, I guess . . . Some of ‘em like me blonde and blue-eyed, others make me darker, like who knows what Marvel canon even is, man . . .’
Peter’s giving us the look. The ‘what the hell is he talking about’ look.
Wade clears his throat. ‘It was brown. Medium brown, lighter than yours.’
I think that’s canon, actually.
It’s also basically Ryan Reynolds.
Peter nods slowly. ‘I can picture that, with your eyes.’
Wade hesitates, cutting into his steak. ‘I . . . I could get a wig of the right colour.’
Peter smiles and shakes his head. ‘Not for my sake.’ He takes a bite of his steak and shuts his eyes with a groan of pleasure. ‘That,’ he declares, ‘is the best fricking steak I’ve eaten in, like, ever!’ He takes another bite, and the look on his face is pure bliss. ‘Anyway,’ he continues after a moment, ‘I’m asking because I’m curious, not because I want you to be different.’
Wade isn’t entirely certain that he believes it, but Peter’s words make him all warm on the inside regardless, and for several minutes they eat in comfortable silence.
‘I’ve called in sick for the next couple of days,’ says Peter. ‘Can’t run around taking pictures or doing complicated lab work until I heal properly . . . I should probably try and get back to attending my lectures as soon as possible, though.’
‘Aww, you’ll catch up on what you’ve missed. You’re my clever little Spider-boy!’ Wade grins. ‘You’re Dr. Genius McSmartypants!’
When they’ve finished eating, Peter sits back and sighs contentedly. ‘Mm, thank you for the awesome dinner, Wade.’
Wade gathers the plates. ‘Anything for you, studmuffin.’ He clears the table and returns to find Peter’s eyes on him. ‘So,’ says Wade slowly, ‘what can I do for you now, Master Parker?’
Peter licks his lips and meets Wade’s gaze. ‘Well . . . I believe you mentioned something about sucking my dick.’
Wade feels a slow smile stretch over his marred features. ‘Your wish is my command.’ |
Peter has a crossdressing kink.
Chapter 22
‘Ah! Shit . . .’ Peter’s eyes are half closed. The feeling of Wade’s mouth, his hot tongue, overwhelms his senses and clouds his mind. He looks down at his lover in a haze of lust, and is it weird that Wade has never looked hotter than on his knees in a sexy maid outfit, servicing Peter with the sort of enthusiasm he usually reserves for heartfelt renditions of 80s pop songs and Disney musical numbers?
Peter feels the familiar tightening in the pit of his stomach that signifies an imminent orgasm and squeezes the back of Wade’s neck. ‘W—wait, please! Slow down . . . I don’t wanna . . .’
Wade releases him and looks up at him with mischievous brown eyes. ‘This again?’
Peter shakes his head in an attempt to clear it. ‘I just . . . I want to do more. So . . .’
Wade smiles. ‘As you wish, Master Parker. Mayhaps we should retreat to the bedroom?’ He stands and offers his hand to Peter, who takes it and allows himself to be pulled to his feet, pulling his pyjama pants up with his free hand. His cock feels heavy between his legs.
Wade leads him through the door into his bedroom and sits him down on the bed. He strokes Peter’s cheek with a gloved hand. ‘So, what would you like me to do?’
Peter licks his lips. ‘God . . . Anything. I just, I want . . . Man, I dunno what I want . . .’ He takes Wade’s hand and kisses his palm. ‘I just want you. You’re just, you’re so fucking hot!’
Wade makes a noise in the back of his throat. ‘You know what it does to me when you use that kind of language, baby boy?’ he purrs.
Peter looks up at him and smirks. ‘Yeah, I know.’
For a moment Wade looks thoughtful. Then he says, ‘All right, darling. Lie back on the bed. Get comfy.’
Peter does as he’s told, and then Wade is on top of him, frilly skirt and all, kissing him deeply, and his mouth still tastes like Peter’s own dick, which is hot as hell. Wade removes Peter’s t-shirt, licking and biting at his nipples, and Peter groans. Then Wade licks a trail down Peter’s stomach and pulls his pyjama pants off. He stops to give his cock a few teasing licks, but doesn’t linger. Instead he lifts Peter’s legs and hooks them over his shoulders, giving the inside of his left thigh a nibble. Peter’s breath hitches in his throat as Wade lowers his head.
He sucks Peter’s balls into his mouth one at a time and Peter moans out loud, twitching as Wade’s tongue moves further down to lap at his hole.
‘Ah, fuck!’ Peter cries out, and Wade’s chuckle seems to reverberate through his entire body. ‘Wade . . . Oh, God, your tongue!’
Peter can feel himself opening up to this warm, soft, slippery feeling, and when Wade dips his tongue inside, he thinks his eyes are going to roll back in his skull. Words fail him as the feeling takes him, and for a few moments all he can do is whimper. He pushes back against Wade’s tongue, wanting more, wanting him to go deeper, at the same time as he wants to be touched, wants to come but doesn’t want to.
Wade knows him so well. He teases his dick with a few strokes of his hand, the silky fabric of his glove sliding across the flesh like a cool breeze, while he presses deeper inside, fucking him with his tongue. Peter is a whimpering, shivering wreck within seconds, this feeling too much and not enough.
He finds his voice at last, though. ‘Wade . . . Wade, please! Fuck me!’
Wade lifts his head and grins. ‘I can do that, Master Parker.’ His wig is crooked, so Peter reaches down and pulls it off, running his fingers across his scalp. Wade seems to melt a little, eyes closing for a few moments, enjoying the touch.
Soon he reaches for the lube on the nightstand, removes one of his gloves and slicks up his fingers. After the treatment he’s given Peter, it doesn’t take long before his fingers are inside him to the knuckles. Wade takes his time, though, opening Peter up even more, digging until he finds his prostate and Peter sees stars.
‘More!’ Peter whines, and he would probably feel embarrassed about the neediness in his voice, only he’s currently incapable of feeling anything but complete and utter rapture.
‘Greedy, aren’t you?’ Wade murmurs, hooking his fingers and pressing against Peter’s prostate once more. A generous portion of pre-cum dribbles out of Peter’s swollen dick as he whimpers with the sheer intensity of it.
‘I . . . I need . . .’ Peter gasps as Wade’s fingers touch that spot again. ‘I need more!’
Wade obliges with a third finger, and Peter’s back arches as he pushes back against the intrusion, a loud moan filling his small bedroom. He can’t think, can only feel, and what he feels is like the ebb and flow of the tide, washing over his naked body, hot and cold, hard and soft, as Wade prods and teases.
‘Wade! Need . . . You . . . St–stop messing around and fuck me already!’
Wade laughs softly, but he pulls his fingers out. It feels strange and empty. Wade straightens up and moves to take off his dress.
‘Wait!’ says Peter breathlessly. ‘Could . . . Could you keep it on?’ He blushes.
‘Oh.’ Wade smiles a crooked smile. ‘Of course. I wouldn’t wanna look at my body, either.’
In his addled state, it takes Peter a moment to take in what Wade just said. Horrified, he grabs Wade’s ungloved hand. ‘That’s not it! That’s not it at all! Wade, I love your body.’ To demonstrate he kisses the inside of Wade’s wrist. ‘I just . . . I like the dress. So . . . I thought it might be hot if you, you know, fucked me in it . . .’ He blushes deeper still, and Wade’s smile softens, becomes more genuine.
‘I think that would be hot as hell.’
There are a lot of things that Peter Parker thought he’d never be into before Wade Wilson walked into his life. For one, he didn’t think he was into guys. He didn’t think that he’d enjoy sucking dick, or that he’d be on the receiving end of anal sex. But above pretty much anything on the list of things Peter never thought he’d be into are things that never even entered his mind, things he couldn’t have thought of before. Such as being fucked in the ass by Deadpool in a gothic lolita french maid outfit.
Wade lifts the skirt to take out his cock and reveals white silk panties—they’re trimmed with black lace and somehow manage to not only not look ridiculous, but look both cute and hot at the same time—and suspenders holding up his white silk stockings with black buttons and bows. It only takes him a few strokes to get himself good and ready, and then he slicks himself up and, once again hooking Peter’s legs over his shoulders, positions himself at his entrance.
‘This what you want, Master Parker?’ he asks silkily.
Peter nods vigorously.
‘Then tell me.’
Peter swallows. Then he swallows again for good measure, before saying, ‘I want you to fuck me.’
‘How do you want me to fuck you, Master Parker?’
‘I . . .’ Peter takes a deep breath. ‘I want you to pound my ass until I scream.’
Wade grins down at him. ‘Yes, sir,’ he says, and then he does exactly that.
It’s hard and slow, and then it’s fast and rough, and Peter doesn’t think he’s ever felt anything more acutely. He grasps at the sheets, and he can’t shut up, every exhale a moan or a groan or a whimper. He gazes up into Wade’s brown eyes, sees the lust and the adoration there, and he has to close his eyes again because otherwise he thinks he might cry.
Meanwhile, Wade is talking to him, and a bit to himself. ‘Fuck, baby boy, you’re so hot like this! You feel so fucking good. You’re velvet, silk, you’re like a beautiful dream! I wish I could just stay in you always, feel like this all the time . . . I know, right? It’s like someone plucked him right out of my fantasy . . . So hot, so fucking gorgeous . . . How could I ever want anyone else? I love you, Peter! I love you so fucking much!’
Peter’s eyes spring open when he says it, and he locks his gaze to Wade’s again. He wants to respond, wants to tell Wade how much he loves him back, but the words catch in his throat as Wade thrusts into him again, drawing a moan from his lips. The moan becomes a choked sob, and Peter’s cheeks are wet.
Wade slows, but doesn’t pull out. ‘You okay, Petey?’ His voice sounds anxious. ‘I didn’t hurt you, did I? Should I stop?’
Peter smiles through the tears. ‘Don’t you dare! I’m fine. I’m just happy. Fuck . . . Wade, I love you.’
Wade leans forward to capture his lips, effectively folding Peter in half, but Peter is flexible. He wonders momentarily if he should feel grossed out about sucking on the tongue that was buried in his ass twenty minutes ago, and finds he doesn’t care. He puts his arms around his lover, feeling taught muscles through the fabric of the dress. ‘So hot,’ he murmurs against Wade’s lips. And then, not caring that it’s the cheesiest line ever, he says, ‘Now, no more holding back. Fuck me like it’s our last night on Earth!’
Wade laughs. ‘I won’t last long if I do that,’ he says softly. ‘I’m . . . I’m getting pretty close.’
‘Me too,’ Peter says with a breathless chuckle. ‘Touch me?’
Wade reaches between them and takes Peter’s dick in his hand, and the next minute or so is a blur of panting, moaning, skin-slapping, toe-curling ecstasy before they both reach earth-shattering climax.
Carefully, Wade pulls out, letting Peter unfold again, his now aching legs stretching out on the bed. ‘How you doing?’ he asks softly, and Peter laughs.
‘I’m . . . I’m doing great! Holy shit . . .’
Wade gets off the bed and changes out of his outfit into soft cotton boxers. The french maid thing was hot as hell, but it’s nice to have him back to normal, too. Somehow he still has the energy to clean them both up and change Peter’s dressings.
‘You’ve healed well,’ he comments. ‘Our . . . activity didn’t tear the stitches or anything either. At this rate we can take the stitches out in the morning.’
Peter smiles. ‘I may not have a healing factor as sick as yours, but I do heal a little faster than most people.’
Wade returns the smile, taping the compress in place. ‘Don’t think we need to cover this any extra.’
Peter nods, and his eyelids are feeling heavy now. Wade lies down next to him, pulling the covers over them both and holding Peter close.
The last thing Peter hears before he falls asleep is Wade’s soothing voice whispering, ‘You just get some sleep now, baby boy. I’ll be right here.’
Peter wakes up some time during the night from a buzzing phone. Not his own. He notes Wade getting out of bed, turns over and falls asleep again almost at once. The next time he wakes the room is flooded in sunlight. It must be getting close to midday, and Peter is alone. |
More omo at last!
Chapter 23
There is no answer to his texts, and Peter’s calls go straight to voicemail. Feeling better than yesterday, he puts on his clothes and heads up to the Bronx to Wade’s apartment, but it is empty and dark with no sign that anyone has been there since yesterday morning, and Peter returns home with a sinking feeling in his stomach. Where could Wade have gone? Did something happen?
By mid afternoon, Peter’s worries have turned to full scale fretting, and he’s pacing his living room, running through his options in his head. He could put on his Spider-Man suit and go look for Wade himself, but even though he feels fine he knows his body is still healing. If he does find Wade and he’s in serious trouble, Peter might not be strong enough to save him. He could contact The Avengers or The Fantastic Four, request their aid in tracking down Wade. But how does he explain to New York City’s greatest heroes that they need to help him save Deadpool? Who else could he try to contact? Daredevil? The X-Men, maybe?
There’s a knock on Peter’s door, and he wants it to be Wade, needs it to be him so badly that he doesn’t even stop to consider who else it might be. Rushing to the door he pulls it open, Wade’s name on his lips, ready to kiss him in relief, punch him for leaving without saying anything—
‘So this is what ya actually look like.’
Peter blinks, staring wide-eyed at the man before him. He’s seen him out of costume before, but he never expected to find him on his doorstep. ‘Logan?’
Wolverine’s hands are in the pockets of his jeans, and he’s dressed in a grey wife beater and checkered flannel shirt. He gives Peter what might constitute a smile on someone else, but on Logan’s gruff face it looks like a grimace. Wordlessly, Peter steps aside, and Logan walks his broad frame into the tiny apartment.
‘Sorry for showin’ up at yer door like this,’ he says, once Peter’s closed the door and is facing him. ‘I know you value yer privacy and guard yer identity like a hawk, but . . . I didn’t really have many options, so I followed my nose.’
Peter crosses his arms across his chest. ‘So . . . What do you want?’
Logan scratches the back of his neck uncomfortably. ‘Don’t really know how to say this . . . Wade’s been captured.’
‘Wait, what? By who?’
‘The Anti-Mutant Defence League. You know ‘em?’
Peter nods, looking away. He slowly walks over to the couch and drops down in a seat. It’s as if all his worries have come to life. Wade’s been captured. They can’t kill him, but . . . Who knows what they’re doing to him by now?
‘What . . . What happened?’ he asks after a few moments’ silence.
Logan leans against the kitchen counter island. ‘After you were shot . . . Wade gave me some intel and asked me to call him if I dug anything up on the bastards that did it.’
‘The bastards that did it are dead,’ Peter points out. He is unable to keep the edge of bitterness out of his voice; he’s forgiven Wade, but that doesn’t mean he has to like it.
‘Yeah, but their bosses ain’t. Anyway, we tracked down a group of ‘em, so I called Wade like I promised, and he came to help us out. But these weren’t like the thugs the two of ya fought the other night. These were professionals. They had skills and know-how. They knew to aim for Wade’s head. He went down like a sack of bricks. Nightcrawler tried to Bamf over and get him out, but . . . He got hurt bad. It was all we could do to get him outta there, and in all the confusion Wade got snatched.’
Peter nods slowly. ‘So, how do we find him?’
Logan shrugs. ‘That part’s already done. Wade’s got kind of a . . . particular scent. I’ve already tracked him, I know where he’s being held. But it’s heavily fortified. Armed guards, all exits covered, alarms . . . We gotta be smart about this, disable the systems, sneak inside, if we wanna get him out. Now, I know you got hurt, but—’
Peter stands up at once. ‘Let me go get changed.’
‘Wade’s gonna try and kill me for gettin’ you involved,’ says Logan, and there’s a hint of amusement in his voice.
‘Yeah, well, Wade can kiss my ass,’ Peter says, heading towards his bedroom.
‘I was under the impression he already had, and then some.’
Peter turns around, and finds Logan actually smiling now. He returns the smile, in spite of himself. ‘Wouldn’t shut up about me, huh?’
‘Wade talks about whatever’s on his mind, most of the time. At the moment, that mostly seems to be you.’ Logan pauses, studying Peter’s face. ‘Gotta admit, I worried that it was all in his head or you were jerkin’ him around somehow . . . But this is as real for you as it is for him, ain’t it?’
Without hesitation, Peter says, ‘Yes.’
Logan nods. ‘Yeah. All right, come up to the roof when you’re done. Pick-up in five.’
Wade doesn’t know how long he’s been chained up like this. He’s in some kind of warehouse or bunker, and he’s been hanging by his wrists from the ceiling since he woke up. It’s getting to be a little uncomfortable, especially since he’s starting to get kind of desperate for a piss, but for the most part he’s just bored out of his skull. He’s been under guard the whole time, and he’s tried talking to his captors, but he gets no response from them.
They’re probably under orders not to talk to us . . .
‘Are you under orders not to talk to me?’ Wade asks out loud. There is no response, and he wriggles a bit, legs swinging a few inches above the concrete floor. ‘Seriously, can I at least go to the bathroom?’
His guard turns away from him and walks over to the room’s only door. He lifts two fingers to his ear, says something in a hushed voice, opens the door and then leaves. Wade wriggles again. He kicks his legs, as if that’s gonna make them longer and let them reach the floor. He could try chewing off his own shoulders, but fighting his way out without arms will be tricky.
He doesn’t look up when the door opens again, still kicking his legs in futility.
‘That won’t do any good, you know.’ It’s a familiar voice, with an unplaceable accent, and Wade looks up in surprise.
‘Really? No! What?’ He squints. ‘Why?’
‘Why not?’ says Daken with a shrug. He stands leaning against the door, his arms crossed casually over his chest. He’s wearing black jeans, a black tank top and combat boots.
Well, that’s one hell of a plot twist . . . Not! Evil baby Wolverine sides with the bad guys!
It’s almost like Daniel Way wrote it. Except then it would be good.
‘I’m guessing,’ Wade kicks his legs again, ‘that you’re not here to rescue me.’
‘You’re guessing right.’
‘I’m guessing also,’ Wade wriggles some more—he really has to piss now, ‘that these guys don’t know that you’re a mutant.’
‘Right again,’ says Daken with a smirk. ‘Aren’t you the clever one, Wade Wilson?’
‘What if I were to tell them?’ Wade challenges.
‘Like they’d believe you over me!’ Daken scoffs. He stands up straight and prowls closer, the tattoo on his arm seeming to swirl with the motion of his muscles as he clenches and unclenches his fist. His black mohawk falls attractively in front of his pale grey eyes. ‘But why would you want to tell them?’ he continues silkily. ‘We don’t have to be enemies, Wade. We could be . . . friends.’
Man, Daken is really hot!
I’m inclined to agree. Bet he makes a spectacular power bottom!
Wade shakes his head. ‘Nuh-uh, baby Wolverine! I’m immune to mind mojo. You can’t sway me!’
Daken smiles, baring his teeth. ‘It’s not mind-mojo, my dear. It’s pure pheromones. Not that I need them. You already want me. Why wouldn’t you?’ He stops in front of Wade, reaches out and cups him through his suit. ‘There are many, many potential benefits to being on my side.’
It’s sort of an impulse. It just seems like the thing to do, really, and his bladder is so full anyway, so with Daken’s hand on him, Wade just lets go.
Daken clearly smells it before he feels it, his nose wrinkling and his brow furrowing, and a second later, as the first drops break through the fabric of the suit, Daken pulls his hand back as if burned.
Wade gives a satisfied sigh as he fills his suit up with urine. ‘Oh man,’ he sighs. ‘I’ve been holding that since last night, however long that’s been . . . Like, would it kill you people to have some windows up in here so I could get an idea of the time?’
‘You are disgusting!’ Daken sneers.
Wade shrugs as well as he can, hanging by his wrists. ‘I told your boys I had to go. They didn’t listen.’
‘And stupid. My side is the winning side.’
‘Chaotic neutral, motherfucker!’ Wade smirks. His piss drips into a puddle on the floor. ‘I’m on my own fucking side.’
Daken turns away with a disgusted look on his face.
‘Hey, prodigal son,’ says Wade. ‘Answer me straight. Why are you siding with the folks who wanna kill folks like you?’
Daken sticks his hands into his pockets and looks back at Wade for a second. ‘Maybe I just want to watch the world burn.’
Wade shakes his head. ‘Nah, man. That’s not it. You wanted to watch the world burn, there’d be plenty more efficient ways of doing it. You’ve got one reason, and one reason only to team up with these shitsticks. You just wanna piss off your dad. Only reason to be this much of a douchenozzle. You two seriously need to hug it out, man.’
Daken rolls his eyes. ‘You fucking hero-types . . . Always trying to fix things.’
‘Hero-type? Moi? I’m flattered, Loganette! But I ain’t a hero. I’m just sick of your daddy issues fucking shit up all the time. When normal people are fighting with their parents they slam doors, maybe knock over a vase. When you fight with your dad, you level whole city blocks. And it’s sooooo fucking passé, dude!’
The punch to his gut comes out of nowhere, and knocks the air out of him, though it’s hardly a surprise. As soon as he’s managed to suck in a breath, Wade laughs.
‘Struck a nerve, didn’t I?’ he wheezes. ‘Oh, my baby Wolverine . . . Get the fuck over yourself. You may be stronger than I am, but I heal better. I’ll outlive you.’
‘True,’ says Daken, flexing his fist with a look of unconcern on his face, ‘but your precious Spider-Man won’t.’
Did he threaten our Peter?
He did. We have to kill him. Like, now.
Wade takes a deep breath and tries not to let any emotion through in his voice. ‘What the shit are you talking about?’
‘Oh, please!’ Daken smirks at him. ‘Even if I hadn’t had the reports of you killing a whole squad of my men to save his life, I can smell him and his cum all over you. Well.’ He wrinkles his nose again. ‘Maybe not anymore. The stench of your urine is fairly overpowering.’
‘Yeah, my piss is pretty potent,’ Wade agrees. ‘Probably strong enough to cover up your pheromones. As for Spidey, you wanna kill him you gotta go through me first!’
Daken laughs a soft, cruel laugh. ‘Oh, Wade . . . But I already have. I’ve got you right here, and you’re not getting out. There is nothing you can do to protect your precious Spider-Man.’
He ain’t wrong. We’re kind of stuck here, and if he could smell Peter on us, he can track him to his home.
We gotta get free! Gotta save Peter!
‘Oh, he better not be even thinking that,’ Wade mutters darkly. ‘Motherfucker better leave my Spidey outta this.’
Daken laughs. ‘Gladly. He’s not who I want. You’re not who I want, either.’
‘No,’ Wade says. ‘You want daddy dearest. So what am I? Bait?’
‘You’re a lucky coincidence, Wilson.’ Daken saunters back towards the door, and Wade can’t help but watch the sway of his hips. ‘You were never part of my plan, but you fit into it nicely. Logan fancies himself a hero.’ He opens the door. ‘Let him be one.’
The door shuts on Daken’s perfectly sculpted ass, and Wade heaves a sigh. His wet suit is rapidly cooling, adding to his discomfort.
It was worth it, though.
He nods at nothing. ‘Fuck yeah.’
—————
Daken is, like, my second favourite Marvel villain turned antihero. (One guess as to which is number one.) He was created by Daniel Way and Steve Dillon for the Wolverine: Origins series. (Not to be confused with the film X-Men Origins: Wolverine, which was objectively shit and ruined Deadpool.) Read it!! Daken got to have a go at being Wolverine during the Dark Reign story arc. He's canonically bisexual and is a sexy, sexy boy.
Edited December 16, 2018 by ThornWild
(see edit history) |
Ask and ye shall receive. ?
—————
So, between the writing last chapter and this one, I basically went on a two year long hiatus, like a dick, leaving my readers on AO3 hanging. This was because the meds I was taking prevented me from writing. I'm mentioning this because there are a few references to this fact in this chapter, and they may otherwise seem a bit confusing.
Chapter 24
It’s different, seeing New York City from a jet rather than seeing it from swinging around between skyscrapers shooting webs. Peter’s sitting next to Nightcrawler. He doesn’t look great, but Kurt Wagner’s a pretty resilient guy. He’ll heal.
Behind them, Logan is having a chat with Domino, planning their attack.
‘West entrance’s our best bet,’ Logan says. ‘Seems to be the least heavily guarded. We take out the guards, quiet as we can, give Spider-Man the chance to access the electrical grid and cut the power.’
Peter turns around. ‘If your schematics are right, we’ll have about thirty seconds for me to hack the alarms before the backup power comes back on. I can’t promise that’ll be enough time for me to do it. We have to be prepared for a real fight.’
‘Well,’ says Domino, ‘you’re agile, Wolverine is strong, and I’m really fucking lucky. And once we get in, there’s Deadpool.’
Logan shakes his head. ‘We have no idea what kind of state Wade will be in when we find him. For all we know they’ve been blowing his brains out every hour since they caught him.’
The thought makes Peter sick to his stomach, and he turns away. The thought of Wade being in that much pain . . . that’s the thing. They can torture him as much as they want, and he will never die.
Logan seems to realise his mistake. He approaches Peter and puts a hand on his shoulder. ’Sorry. We’ll get him out, kid, I promise. And he can take it. You know he can.’
Peter nods, not trusting himself to speak.
‘We’re almost there,’ says Nightcrawler. ‘Get ready.’
It seems insane, breaking into the AMDL’s headquarters with just the four of them, especially since Nightcrawler’s wounded and literally only coming along so they can make hasty escapes if need be.
It’s a reckless plan, but it’s the only one they have.
Logan gives his shoulder a squeeze and steps back. ‘Okay. So we take out the guards, cut the power to the building, get inside, Spider-Man disables their alarm system, and we get Wade.’
It sounds easy. Peter knows it won’t be.
A fist impacts with Wade’s stomach and he wakes up with a gasp. He must have passed out. Since Daken left, it seems his guards are no longer under orders to ignore him. Two of them have been keeping him company the past half hour (hour? Hard to tell), and without anyone holding them back, the bigots are more than happy to hurt him.
One of them tried to strangle us.
Ah, that’s right. Lack of oxygen to his brain, that’s why he passed out.
‘Ow!’ he groans. His left shoulder’s severely dislocated, and several of his ribs are fractured. He can feel the bone knitting back together. It hurts, but no more than he can take.
‘Awake again, mutie bastard?’ one of his assailants growls. He’s wearing the same uniform the guys from the other night did, all black, minus the balaclava. He has pasty, pockmarked skin. Another punch knocks the air from Wade’s lungs and he coughs. ‘Ugly freak!’
Wade scoffs. ‘That’s rich. You’re almost as ugly as I am.’
The other guy laughs. He’s dressed identically, with a darker complexion and blue eyes. Pasty growls and pulls back his fist, ready to strike again.
All at once, the room is plunged into darkness. Wade can hear more than see his guards grip their rifles tighter.
‘Power cut?’ Blue Eyes says.
‘Stay alert,’ Pasty replies.
‘Yeah, you guys, stay alert,’ says Wade. ‘It’s probably my rescue team coming to kick your asses.’
’Shut the fuck up!’ Pasty snaps through the darkness. Wade feels the nozzle of his rifle against his stomach. Then there’s a bang, the bullet ripping through his insides, and Wade groans in pain. ‘Next word out of you, I’ll shoot your fucking dick off.’
Yeah, let’s not have that happen. Sounds unpleasant.
Oh, it’ll grow back out eventually. Still. Ow.
A moment later, the lights come back on. An alarm starts blaring from somewhere, and his guards turn their attention on the door. Blue Eyes puts two fingers to his ear. ‘Fuck! We’re under attack.’
‘Told ya,’ says Wade. Blue Eyes is running towards the door, rifle held tightly in his grip.
‘I thought I told you to shut up!’ Pasty snaps and turns around, but before he can aim his rifle at Wade’s crotch, Wade has pulled himself up by the chains (his dislocated shoulder complains by shooting pain through his arm), and aimed a two-legged kick at the guy’s head. He falls back, dropping his gun and hitting his head on the concrete floor. He stays down.
Blue Eyes points his gun at Wade, eyes wide and an expression of panic on his face. Clearly, he was not prepared for this. Any of it.
Before he can shoot Wade, the alarm dies, and then there’s the distant sound of gunfire. A voice comes through a speaker:
‘Intruders at the west entrance! Need fire support!’
There’s a commotion outside. There are shouts, several gunshots, some very loud thuds, and then silence.
The door bursts open. Domino punches Blue Eyes in the face, and then there is Peter, disarming him with his webs. The guard crumples to the floor.
Our Peter’s come to rescue us!
Wade grins inside his mask. ‘Took your sweet time.’
Yeah, like, what, two years? How long have we been hanging here?
Doesn’t matter! Petey’s here!
‘I’m really glad to see you guys,’ Wade tells them. ‘You came to rescue me! You all care! You’re my friends!’
Domino picks up Blue Eyes’s gun and stands guard by the door, peering out into the hall. Kurt appears next to her with a BAMF! He’s not looking so good, but better than he was last time Wade saw him.
‘Sorry about the delay. Couldn’t just come charging in without a plan,’ says Logan, while Peter approaches Wade.
‘Except for the part where we just came charging in without a plan,’ says Kurt with a shrug.
‘Good thing all the bad guys are normies.’ Domino flashes Wade a grin. ‘Hey, Wade.’
Peter’s reached him now. He pulls a stool over from the wall, climbs on it, and proceeds to open Wade’s manacles. He’s yet to say a word, which should worry Wade, but at the moment he’s just so happy to see him he can’t even be mad at Logan for roping his boyfriend into this suicide mission.
Wade drops to his feet, grateful to have them planted firmly on the floor again, and before he can say anything more, Peter’s thrown his arms around him, and is holding him tight. Wade hugs him back. His wrists are sore, he’s pretty sure one of them is fractured, but that’ll heal in a minute.
‘Man, are you a sight for sore eyes,’ he murmurs into Peter’s shoulder.
But then Peter lets go, and lands a punch squarely on Wade’s jaw.
‘Ow! What the fuck?’
‘You are such a dick!’ Peter shouts at him. ‘What were you thinking, just leaving in the middle of the night without even saying anything? You ever do that to me again, I fucking swear . . .’ He trails off, and then he’s put his arms around Wade again, and Wade wants to kiss him so badly, but he knows Peter won’t want to take his mask off, so he contents himself with grabbing a handful of ass. Peter swats his hand away.
Man, Peter’s hot when he cusses.
Peter’s hot when he breathes.
‘Enough, you two,’ says Logan gruffly. ‘We don’t have time for this, we gotta get out.’
‘Shh, someone’s coming!’ Domino hisses.
Logan cocks his head, listening. ‘Well, shit.’
‘Oh yeah,’ says Wade. ‘I should tell you a couple things. First, they’re not all normies, and second—’
Domino leaps back just before two long bone claws can slash her across the chest. She aims the gun she’s holding at Daken as he steps into the room.
‘It’s a trap,’ Daken finishes. ‘Hello, Daddy.’
‘Ugh, do you have to make it sound so sexual?’ says Wade.
Anything can sound sexual when Daken says it.
It’s his voice. Liquid sex.
‘You can shut up now, Wilson,’ says Daken. ‘Actually, you can all leave, if you want. As long as Wolverine stays.’
‘No fucking way!’ Domino’s finger is on the trigger.
‘No,’ says Logan. ‘You should go. He’s my responsibility.’
‘Fuck that,’ says Wade. ‘You just saved my ass, I’m not going anywhere.’
‘Fine,’ says Daken, retracting his claws. ‘Boys!’
Six guys in black kevlar burst into the room carrying assault rifles. ‘Drop your weapons, mutie bastards!’
‘Kill them,’ Daken orders. ‘Leave Wolverine to me.’
Wade has time to say, ‘Kurt, get out of here!’ before the man closest to him empties his magazine into Wade’s chest.
‘Oh no, you don’t!’ Before Wade has time to stop him, or do much of anything, Peter has jumped into the fray. He’s disarmed the guy who shot Wade before he can even blink, but there are five other guys with automatic weapons in the room.
Where are our weapons? Fuck!
In video games they’re always conveniently stashed in a chest somewhere in the room.
Think the author plays video games?
What else do you think they’ve been doing for the past two and a half years?
Wade looks around the room. There’s a footlocker over by the far wall, but there’s a lock on it, and anyway, it’s hard to get to at the moment. Domino’s shot one of the guys five times in the chest, but his kevlar is holding. Kurt took Wade’s advice and is nowhere to be seen, but then he appears briefly on the ceiling before disappearing again in a puff of smoke.
The odds are two to one, then. Wade likes those odds.
With no swords and no plan, he rushes at one of the bad guys with a loud battle cry. Wrestling him to the ground, he manages to tear the gun from his hands and turns it on him, aiming at his exposed face.
Spidey won’t like it if we kill him.
‘Fuck! You’re right.’ Wade flips the gun around and strikes the side of the guy’s head with the stock, knocking him straight out.
Peter is fighting the one he disarmed hand to hand, but there’s another behind him, aiming his gun at him, and this time Wade takes aim and fires a volley at the guy’s face. Then there is no face.
‘Oops.’
These pack some serious firepower.
‘Yeah, I should get me one of these.’
Two down, four to go.
Domino downs the guy closest to her with a swift kick to the balls before elbowing him in the throat. He crumples to the floor.
Three to go.
In the middle of the room, Logan and Daken are circling each other. Daken appears to be monologuing again. Wade can’t hear what he’s saying over the scream of the guy whose arm Spider-Man just broke, and honestly he doesn’t much care.
A bullet hits him in the back, and he turns around, leaping at the guy responsible and punching him in the throat.
All in all, it only takes about a minute to dispatch these guys. ‘Really?’ Wade yells, interrupting Daken. ‘This is what you’ve got to throw at us, baby Wolverine? Six measly fuckers with rifles?’
It gives Logan the opening he needs. He kicks Daken in the chest, sending him sprawling. He lands at Peter’s feet, but is soon up again, and swipes at Peter with his claws. Peter’s reflexes are too quick for him, though, and he jumps back at the last moment, landing a kick to Daken’s pretty face. Daken swipes again, this time striking true, and he tears a gash in Peter’s arm. It’s not deep, but it’s enough for Wade to see red.
He aims the gun he’s still holding, and shoots Daken in the throat. He falls to his knees, gasping. Dropping the gun, Wade takes three strides over and kicks him hard in the head, and he crumples sideways, and is still on the floor.
‘Wade!’ Even with the mask on, Wade can sense Peter’s disapproving look.
‘Relax. His healing factor is almost as good as mine. Fucker’ll live. Right, Logan?’
Logan heaves a heavy sigh. ‘Better get him to the school. We can contain him there, at least for a while.’ He gets to one knee and picks up his son in his arms. Daken is taller than his father, but also slimmer, and anyway, Logan is strong as fuck.
‘Well, that was kind of anti-climatic,’ says Domino, also dropping her weapon.
‘Eh, the writer just wants to get to the smut.’
Domino quirks an eyebrow. ‘What?’
‘What?’ Wade echoes.
It’s true, though.
We wanna get to the smut, too.
Wade walks over to the footlocker, shoots off the lock, and right enough, there he finds his swords, his guns, and his belt. ‘Ah, predictable bad guys.’ He straps his gear on and turns to the others. ‘So, we getting out of here?’
‘Gonna wipe their servers,’ says Peter. ‘Delete the info they have on us, and other mutants and inhumans.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ says Domino.
‘I’ll head to the jet. Kurt’s probably there,’ says Logan.
‘What if he wakes up?’ says Peter, nodding at Daken.
Logan shrugs. ‘He’ll be out for a good half hour. Meet us at the jet when you’re done.’
There aren’t a lot of thugs left in the building, and those who are there are quickly dispatched. They find a computer in one of the rooms, and as Peter hoped, it’s networked. He feeds it a virus, and then they head out to the jet.
‘So, your place or mine?’ asks Wade as they exit into the night air.
‘I’m still mad at you,’ Peter snaps. ‘You don’t ever do that to me again, you understand?’
Wade hangs his head. ‘Yeah. Okay. I just . . . They hurt you.’
‘Yeah, and now they’ve hurt you too.’
‘I can take it.’
Peter rounds on him. ‘Well, I can’t!’ he snarls.
‘. . . I’m just gonna go on ahead,’ says Domino and turns away from them at a trot.
Wade stares at Peter for a few moments, head cocked to one side. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I can’t take not knowing where you are, what’s happened to you, whether you’re hurt or . . .’ Peter swallows, looks away. ‘I know you’re hard to kill. But that doesn’t mean you can’t be hurt. They could have tortured you, or . . . Fuck, don’t you get it, Wade? I fucking love you!’
Wade takes a hesitant step towards him. ‘I’m sorry. I hoped . . . I mean, I thought I’d be back before dawn. I would have, if not—’
‘Save your excuses,’ Peter says. He feels exhausted, drained. The cut in his arm is bleeding, and he’s still healing from his other injuries. He thinks he may have torn a stitch in his shoulder.
Wade’s voice is small, quiet. ‘I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. I won’t . . . Just, please, don’t leave me.’
Peter looks at him then, closes the distance between them and pulls him into a tight embrace. ‘Oh, God, Wade. Of course I’m not gonna leave you!’ He reaches up, removes Wade’s mask, and rolls up his own, so he can kiss him. Wade kisses him back like his life depends on it, hugs him tight and lifts him off his feet.
When they pull apart, Peter takes Wade’s hand. ‘Come on. Let’s go home.’ |
It's The Great Omorashi Kink Sex Scene™! Featuring Dom!Peter Parker, because why the hell not? Only one chapter left after this one.
Chapter 25
Peter and Wade get dropped off on the roof of Peter’s apartment building. The ride was awkward, quiet, though they held hands the whole way. Not like the others haven’t realised what’s going on between them, anyway.
When the jet has left, they stand there on the roof for a while. Peter can’t seem to look at Wade. There are so many conflicting emotions going on inside him he can’t even think straight. He’s angry, and relieved, pissed off, and joyful. He wants to punch Wade in the face, and he wants to kiss him, and he wants to fuck him. Most of all, he wants to hold him and never let go, but then there’s that anger again.
‘Hey . . .’ Wade touches his shoulder hesitantly. ‘Petey-Pie . . .’
Peter’s instinct is to shake off his hand, but Wade’s touch is warm, his hand a heavy, reassuring presence on his shoulder. Peter exhales slowly.
‘I keep disappointing you.’ Wade’s voice is soft and a little quavery. ‘I’m sorry. I . . . I don’t know how to be different.’
His words twist Peter’s heart in knots, and he wants to cry. Instead he turns to Wade, takes in the familiar red suit, the mask, the swords on his back. He wants to see Wade’s face, but he put his mask back on when they got to the jet. Peter sighs.
‘You shouldn’t have to be different,’ he says. ‘I don’t want you to be. I’m sorry. I keep hurting you.’
‘You don’t.’
‘I do. I know I do. I treat you like . . .’ He takes Wade’s hand. ‘Let’s get inside. We can talk about it there.’
‘Yeah,’ says Wade. ‘Gotta look at that arm of yours, too.’
They take the fire escape. Peter goes in his open bedroom window and lets Wade in through the living room one, as usual. They don’t say much, as Peter peels off the top part of the suit and lets Wade take a look at his arm and his shoulder. The shoulder’s bleeding a little again. Wade cleans it, bandages it, applies disinfectant and a gauze compress to the scratch on his arm. The cut’s not deep, but it stings, and Peter hisses when Wade touches it.
’Sorry,’ says Wade, and when he’s fastened the gauze with medical tape, he hesitantly leans forward and places a light kiss on top. ‘There. Kissed it better.’
There are words, so many words, that Peter wants to say. His brain is awash with contradictions, and he wonders if this is what it’s like being Wade, having so much spinning around your brain you can barely form a coherent sentence. He pushes the thought away. He knows, of course he knows, that being in Wade’s head is a million times harder.
Still, no words come out, so instead, Peter takes Wade’s mask off him and smothers his lips in a kiss. It’s hard and bittersweet, and familiar. Wade’s mouth tastes like it always does, if his lips are drier than normal and his breath less pleasant. Peter doesn’t much care.
‘I’m so glad you’re okay,’ he breathes when he come up for air. ‘I’m sorry I was so harsh. I just . . . I love you.’ He feels a tear roll down his cheek, and then he’s crying properly, and Wade pulls him into his arms, kisses the top of his head.
‘It’s okay, baby boy. I’m okay. I’m here. I love you too.’
Peter takes a moment to calm down before pulling away. ‘I feel like I almost lost you.’
‘C’mon, Petey. You know you won’t get rid of me that easily.’ Wade flashes him a grin, and gives him a gentle kiss. ’So . . . Make-up sex?’
Peter laughs. ‘You were chained up in there for over eighteen hours, Wade. I think you need food, and water.’ He wrinkles his nose. ‘And maybe a shower.’
‘Yeah, I pissed myself again,’ says Wade, looking completely unembarrassed. ‘Actually, I pissed on Daken. It was epic! You should have seen his face.’
‘I . . . have no idea how to respond to that,’ says Peter. ‘Okay, you get a shower, I’ll fix us something to eat, okay?’
While Wade’s in the shower, Peter changes out of his suit and into clean pyjamas. Going out into the kitchen, he throws together a quick and simple mac & cheese. Wade emerges as he’s putting it in the oven, wearing a towel around his waist.
‘Smells good, gorgeous,’ he says, smiling. Then he just stands there, a few feet away, looking a little awkward. Peter’s about to say something, when Wade opens his mouth again.
‘I’m a mess,’ he begins. ‘No denying it. I’m a schizoid fucking sociopath. Every time I try to be better, I screw up. But . . . I’m better with you, Peter. You quiet the voices some. When I want to do the right thing, you show me how. Every time I fuck up, you forgive me, and I can’t believe I’m that lucky because, as previously mentioned, I’m a fucking mess.’
‘Wade . . .’
‘Just, let me finish. I know one day, you’re gonna leave me. You’re gonna figure out I’m not worth it, that I’m batshit crazy and don’t deserve your love, because I don’t. I’m a hideous fucking monster, and someone better will come along, someone who isn’t. But it doesn’t matter. Every second I get with you is worth that inevitable heartache. I just . . . I love you.’
Peter shakes his head. ‘You’re wrong, Wade Wilson.’ He takes a step closer, takes Wade’s hand. He keeps his eyes fixed on Wade’s as he brings the hand to his lips and kisses it softly. He presses the palm of Wade’s hand to his chest, his heart, hoping he can feel it beating. ‘You’re wrong about all of it. You’re not a sociopath. You’re one of the good guys. It’s just that no one bothered to teach you how to be, before.’ He licks his lips. ‘And you are worth it. Every second. Sure, you do stupid things sometimes, but who the heck doesn’t? You’re beautiful, Wade. And while I can’t see the future or anything, I’m not about to let you go. You may be batshit, but you’re my kinda batshit. And I love you.’
Wade puts his arms around him, buries his face in his shoulder. They hold each other for a long time. No more words. Just this, bodies pressed against each other, small featherlight kisses every once in a while. Peter sits Wade down on the couch while he gets out plates and cutlery, takes the mac & cheese out of the oven, fills the biggest glasses he owns with water. When he returns to Wade, he’s snoozing. Peter considers just letting him sleep, but then he knows he needs to eat, and he must be parched.
‘Hey. Wake up, babe.’
Wade opens his eyes and smiles up at Peter. ‘Beautiful,’ he murmurs, and Peter feels himself blush a little.
‘Food’s done.’
They eat mostly in silence. Wade drains three massive glasses of water, and then they fall into bed together, saving the dishes for the next day. They spend a long time making out, but don’t go any further than that. They’re both exhausted. It can wait. They have time. And when that time comes, Peter wants to give Wade everything he wants, and everything he needs.
Before they fall asleep, Peter feels a jolt of anxiety in his chest, and says, ‘Promise you won’t disappear?’
Wade holds him tighter. ‘Never again.’
Wade wakes up. It’s still dark outside, and he blinks a few times in the darkness, wondering what woke him.
Peter’s kissing our neck, that’s what.
So he is. He’s lying behind him, flush against Wade’s back, an arm draped over Wade’s middle. Through the fabric of Peter’s boxers, Wade can feel his half hard cock against his hip. He moans softly. Peter returns it with a soft sound of his own, and pulls Wade tighter to his chest.
‘Mm, that feels good,’ Wade whispers.
‘Want you,’ Peter murmurs in his ear, before nipping at his earlobe. A shiver goes down Wade’s spine and he swallows hard.
‘Fuck, I want you too.’ He shifts, turns around, finds Peter’s lips in the dark. ‘I . . . kinda really need to pee, though.’
‘You can hold it.’ Peter strokes Wade’s waist with his fingertips. It tickles, but feels wonderful, too. ‘Actually, I’ve kind of been wondering . . .’ Peter trails off, and through the semi-darkness of the room, Wade can see him lick his lips.
‘What?’ asks Wade, encouragingly. ‘Tell me what you’ve been wondering.’
Peter shrugs one shoulder. ‘Just, the other day you mentioned . . . It doesn’t matter.’
Wade frowns. ‘Whatever it is, you can ask. You can talk to me about anything.’
‘Okay.’ Peter takes a breath and exhales, warm against Wade’s cheek. ‘You mentioned . . . peeing yourself. And being into it.’
Fuck your big mouth, Wilson!
Don’t you dare tell him a thing. He’ll be grossed out and leave us!
But it’s too late for that, Wade realises. He told Peter he could talk to him about anything. Either he goes back on his word, or he tells him. There is no in between. And Wade doesn’t want to lie, not to Peter. He’s lied enough, held enough back.
He sighs. ‘I’ve got a kink list a mile long, you know that. I’m into a lot of weird shit . . .’
‘It’s not weird shit to me, not if you’re into it.’
Wade feels warmth bloom in his chest at those words, even if he doesn’t entirely believe them, and laughs softly. ‘You’ll regret saying that.’
‘So, about the peeing?’
Wade hesitates. ‘Do you really want to know?’
‘I asked, didn’t I?’
‘All right.’ Wade sighs. ‘Well, a while back, I kind of realised that holding it when I really needed to go . . . was kind of a turn-on. And then that turned into holding it until it was too late and I . . . well.’ Talking about it, he feels his stomach tighten, his balls tingle, his cock twitching slightly in his underwear.
‘And you liked it.’
‘Yeah.’ Wade shuts his eyes. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this embarrassed before in his life, and that turns him on too. ‘It’s a rush, kind of. Getting all desperate, needing to go but not being able to, and then when it’s too late . . . like, it’s embarrassing and I feel all ashamed, and I guess I kind of get off on that too.’
Peter nods. ‘So, how badly do you need to go right now?’
‘Well, I had three big glasses of water before bedtime, so . . . But I’m lying down, so it’s not too bad yet.’
Is this going where I think this is going?
Man, I fucking hope so. Thought he was gonna reject us outright, but this is promising.
I’ll get the popcorn.
I’ll get the vaseline.
Peter moves his hand to Wade’s stomach, running his fingers along the waistband of his boxers. Then he presses down a little on Wade’s lower abdomen.
‘Fuck!’ Wade throws his head back, squirms, and crosses his legs as Peter puts pressure on his bladder. ‘Please . . . stop, or I’m gonna—’
‘Piss yourself?’ says Peter, silkily.
Wade swallows. His face feels warm, but even if there were any lights, Peter wouldn’t be able to see him blush, under the scars. He nods. ‘Yeah.’
‘Well, we can’t have you wetting the bed.’ Peter pulls his hand away and sits up. He takes Wade’s hand. ‘Come on.’
Peter leads him to the bathroom. In the light, Wade can see Peter’s smile. He looks around in confusion. ‘What—’
Peter shuts him up by kissing him, deeply and thoroughly, his tongue invading Wade’s mouth and making him moan. He palms Wade’s cock through his boxers, and Wade moans out loud, feeling himself go completely hard.
‘I’m gonna fuck you,’ Peter purrs. ‘And you’re not allowed to piss or come until I say so.’
Wade whimpers, both from Peter ordering him around, and from him once again swearing.
It’s like all our fantasies coming true at the same time!
Except for the one with the tentacle monster.
Peter grabs Wade by the neck and pushes him gently into the shower, until his body is pressed up against the tiles, face first.
‘In case things get messy,’ says Peter.
Wade can feel Peter’s hands running over his body. His touch feels so good. Occasionally, Peter reaches around him and presses his hand into his lower abdomen, where his bladder is, and Wade whimpers, forcing himself to hold it. It’s easier when he’s hard, but the pressure is still overwhelming. Peter never comes near his cock, but he’s desperately hard.
Peter pulls Wade’s boxers down to expose his ass, but doesn’t take them properly off him. Then slick, slender fingers push up against his hole, and Wade utters a deep, guttural groan, pushing back on Peter’s fingers. Peter pulls them away.
‘Uh-uh. Be a good boy and stand still for me.’
Wade does as he’s told, though he’s shaking with anticipation. When Peter’s fingers enter him, he cries out. His cock, still obstructed by his underwear, twitches. He moves to touch it, but Peter grabs his arm and holds it behind his back.
‘No touching,’ he admonishes softly, and gently bites down on Wade’s shoulder. ‘I’ll make you feel so good, if you just do as I say. And if you don’t, I’ll stop.’
Well, that’s no fun.
Better do as he says, Wilson.
Wade whimpers again. Peter pushes his fingers deeper inside him, and he groans. ‘Fuck . . . feel so good, baby boy.’
‘You want me to fuck you, Wade?’
There he goes, cussing again.
‘Mm . . . Please!’ Wade is barely coherent. The feel of Peter’s fingers in his ass, when he needs to piss so desperately, is almost too much. Everything just feels more intense, more urgent, more real, and he needs Peter to fuck him, but he can’t express it adequately.
That doesn’t stop Peter, though, and soon his fingers are gone, and then his cock is pressing against Wade’s hole, and Wade can’t shut up, a string of curses tumbling forth from his lips.
‘Fuck, Peter, fuck, need . . .’
’Shh, it’s okay.’ Peter pushes inside, and Wade yelps, cock twitching again. ‘You’re doing good, baby. You’re doing so good.’
Wade can’t relax. If he does, he’s gonna piss himself. He pushes back against Peter, and this time Peter lets him.
Peter fucks him like he never has before. Or maybe it’s just the heightened sensations caused by Wade’s desperation. Either way, it’s never felt this good or this intense before, and Wade moans almost continuously as Peter slides in and out of him. His skin tingles.
‘God,’ Peter breathes next to his ear. ‘Your ass feels so good, Wade. So tight and good for me. So beautiful.’
Peter runs his hands up and down Wade’s back, occasionally gripping his hips and delivering an extra powerful thrust. He’s long since stopped holding back on his strength, and now he’s fucking Wade with abandon.
The pressure is building in both Wade’s bladder and his balls. He doesn’t know which will happen first, if he’ll piss himself or come, but they’re both imminent, and he tries to stop it, tries to breathe. Peter picks up the pace, and now Wade is sobbing.
‘Please . . . Fuck, Peter, I can’t!’ His voice breaks.
‘Shh. You can. I know you can. Just a little longer now, baby, I promise.’ Peter’s voice is soothing and kind, though he too is breathless. He groans, deep in his throat. ‘Ah . . . I love you, Wade. You’re doing great.’
Wade wants to tell him he loves him too, but all he can do is call out his name. ‘Peter! Fuck . . . I can’t . . .’ A spurt of urine dribbles from his cock, staining his boxers, and he clenches his muscles to cut it off. Peter moans loudly in return.
‘So . . . so tight . . .’
‘Please! Let me pee!’ Wade begs, sobbing, whimpering.
‘Just . . . just a little longer. Just a second. Oh God, Wade! Just . . .’
‘Ah!’ A little more trickles out. ‘I can’t hold it! I can’t!’
‘Mmh . . .’ Peter bites down on Wade’s shoulder again. ‘Okay, baby. You can let go.’
Wade does, a hard stream of piss wetting the front of his boxers, spilling onto the tiled floor, and he can’t seem to stop moaning. It goes on for a long time, the relief overwhelming. Peter continues fucking him through it, and then, when his bladder is empty, Wade comes, without even having touched his dick, the friction from his wet underwear enough, and he cries out Peter’s name, followed by a string of obscenities. Peter continues on, rides it out with him, even though he must now be impossibly tight.
Only when the spasms in Wade’s body have subsided, only when he’s leaning against the wall, barely able to stay on his feet, does Peter groan, ‘Shit . . . I’m gonna come!’ A couple of erratic thrusts follow, and then he stills, crying out as he spills himself inside Wade’s ass. |
And here comes the final chapter! If you made it this far, I thank you! This fic is also posted to AO3 where it is, surprisingly enough, the most popular thing I've ever written, with nearly 50k hits and, like, 2600 kudos or something like that. Didn't really think that what started as a kink fest and then devolved into utter fluff would become so popular, but there you have it. Feel free to head over there and give me some love too. If you want. No pressure.
Chapter 26
Peter is panting heavily, torso pressed to Wade’s back, sweat running down his brow, his cheeks, his entire body. Wade is shaking, breathing hard, forehead pressed to the tiles of the shower. He looks like he’s about to buckle under, and Peter’s suddenly worried that he pushed him too hard. He feels shame in the pit of his stomach, embarrassment at enjoying that as much as he did, the control over Wade, watching him fall apart, desperate.
He pulls out, slowly, arms circling around Wade’s chest, to prevent him from falling over. ‘You okay?’ he asks softly, hearing the concern in his own voice.
Wade nods. Releases a short, breathy laugh. ‘Yeah. I am beyond okay. Just . . . give me a minute. Think I may have to sit down.’
Peter helps him down to his knees, squatting in front of him, running his hands up Wade’s shoulders, neck, to cup his face. He finds his lips, kissing him gently. Then he touches his forehead to Wade’s, and Wade’s breathing slows, calms, until he lets out a breathy sigh.
‘You okay?’ he asks Peter.
Peter smiles. ‘Yeah. Of course I am.’
‘That didn’t . . . That didn’t gross you out?’
‘Not at all,’ says Peter, shaking his head. ‘I mean, urine doesn’t do much for me, but watching you fall apart like that . . .’ He blushes.
‘Knew there was secretly a dom hiding under that skin of yours,’ says Wade with a grin. He leans his head back against the tiles, reaching down between his legs where is boxers are clinging to him, wet and sticky. He pulls them off, flaccid cock tumbling out. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard. Like, ever.’
Peter finds himself grinning, and kisses Wade again. ‘Let’s get you cleaned up.’ He stands, taking the shower head off the wall. He tests the water with his hand, until it’s a comfortable temperature, and then gets to his knees again, and proceeds clean Wade’s marred skin, washing away piss and cum and sweat. Wade sighs happily.
‘You’re too good to me, baby boy.’
‘Hey, after that I owe you some serious aftercare.’
Once Wade can stand up, they take a proper shower together, and then Peter puts Wade to bed. He goes out into the kitchen, fetches water and some cookies he finds in the cupboard, and returns to the bedroom.
‘Here. That must have taken a lot out of you.’
Wade drinks gratefully and eats a couple of cookies, while Peter caresses his cheek and neck. Wade blinks up at him sleepily.
‘Get into bed?’
Peter puts the glass and cookies on the nightstand and slides under the covers. He puts his arms around Wade, holds him tightly, letting him be the little spoon and running his hand up and down his chest and his waist. The feel of his skin is familiar, comforting.
‘You know, I had kind of an epiphany today,’ he murmurs.
‘Hm?’ Wade shifts a little in his arms, onto his back, nuzzling the crook of Peter’s neck.
Peter sighs. ‘I think I get it. Why you did the things you did, all those times I was in danger. All those times you thought someone was about to kill me.’ He kisses the top of Wade’s head. ‘When Logan told me what had happened, that you’d been captured, and again when I thought of what they might have done to you . . .’ He takes a deep breath and exhales shakily. ‘I wanted to kill them. I wanted to murder every one of them for daring to hurt you. It . . . It scared me, but I got it. I finally got it. I’m so sorry, Wade.’
Wade’s breath is warm on his skin. ‘It’s okay, Petey-Pie. It’s all okay. I mean, I’m glad you get it, but . . . Killing isn’t you. You don’t kill people. I love that about you, that you always find another way. I don’t know how to do that, I’m too set in my ways, to messed up to completely change. But I don’t want you to ever change. You keep doing you, baby boy.’
‘I don’t want you to change either,’ says Peter. ‘Not unless you want to change yourself.’
Wade rolls on top of him, kisses him deeply, thoroughly. ‘You’re everything,’ he murmurs.
They make out for a while, and then they settle down again, Peter embracing Wade from behind, and drift off to sleep.
‘The AMDL have scattered,’ Domino informs Wade over the phone. ‘We sent an anonymous tip to the cops about the base. Anyone we left conscious were gone by the time they got there, but they found interrogation rooms, cells with . . . Well. The ones they found weren’t alive.’
Wade sighs. ‘Think there was other leadership, or was little baby killing machine responsible for the whole thing?’
‘We don’t know. But they are organised elsewhere, so probably there are others in charge. Daken’s refused to tell us anything. Logan’s at his wit’s end . . .’
‘When does his kid ever not drive him crazy?’
‘Anyway, the immediate danger is over. And even though Spider-Man wiped their computers, there was enough evidence lying around for the Anti-Mutant Defence League to officially be considered a terrorist group. Which’ll make it much harder for them to bend people to their cause. Either way, your Spidey should be safe.’
‘Some good news, then.’ Wade smiles. ‘Thanks, Domino. Love to Logan!’ He makes kissy noises, and can practically hear Domino roll her eyes.
‘Yeah, sure. Talk to you later, Wade. Take care of your boy.’
Wade hangs up.
We’re safe! Peter’s safe! It’s over!
It’s not over. They’re not gone.
‘Well, over or not, we’ve been given a break,’ says Wade out loud. ‘Let’s spend it making pancakes for Peter!’
It’s morning, and Peter’s still asleep in the bedroom. It’s been a few days, and he’s all healed. Wade’s practically moved in. They didn’t agree that he should or anything, but any time he’s suggested getting out of Peter’s hair, the latter has practically forbidden it.
Wade considers wearing the maid outfit again. He wore it yesterday, with great success.
Yes! Put it on! Let’s be pretty!
Wade shakes his head. ‘Nah. Too much effort.’
He does sing to himself while he cooks, though. ‘Let it gooo! Let it goooo! Can’t hold it back anymoooore!’ He opens a drawer to get out a whisk. ‘Let it gooo, let it gooo! Turn away and slam the doooor!’ He closes the drawer with his hip, and starts beating the eggs in the large bowl. ‘I don’t caaare what they’re going to saaaay. Let the storm rage oooon!’
There’s a creak as the bedroom door opens, and Wade turns his head to see Peter standing there, smiling. ‘The cold never bothered me anyway,’ he sings softly.
Ooh, our Peter can sing!
Always knew he could. He just chose not to.
Wade grins. ‘I knew you had it in you, baby boy. I feel a new age dawning, one of broadway duets!’
Peter laughs. Then he walks over and leans his elbows on the breakfast bar. ‘What you making?’
‘Pancakes for my Petey-Pie!’ Wade leans over the bar and kisses Peter’s nose. ‘Sorry I woke you.’
Peter shakes his head. ‘There is no way I’d rather wake up than to you singing while making breakfast.’ He pauses, considering. ‘Except maybe for you in my bed doing sexy things . . .’
‘I promise to wake you like that tomorrow,’ Wade vows. He returns to mixing the pancake batter. ‘Talked to Domino just now, bee-tee-dubs.’
‘Yeah?’ Peter sits down on one of the stools. ‘What did she say?’
‘That the AMDL seems to be gone, for now. And also that Daken’s a dick, but what else is new.’
‘Never actually met him in real life before,’ says Peter. ‘I hate him for all the trouble he caused, and for hurting you. Still . . .’
‘I know, he’s super hot,’ says Wade. ‘Even without those pheromones working for him, he’d still be pretty fucking sexy. If he wasn’t such a psycho, I’d suggest a three-way.’ He grins wickedly.
Peter laughs again, and Wade is so happy that he can make him laugh. He’s giddy that it’s over and they’re both fine. For now, at least, they can be happy.
‘I have a surprise for you tonight,’ Peter says after a while, while Wade melts butter in the pan.
‘Ooh! What kind of surprise? Is it a sexy surprise?’
‘Not so sexy, perhaps, but it’s definitely a good surprise.’
‘All surprises are good surprises, if you’re the one doing the surprising.’
Peter is holding Wade’s hand, walking him down the narrow street. They’re both in civvies, and Peter wouldn’t let Wade wear his mask, so instead he has his hood up. Wade has stopped trying to get Peter to tell him where they’re going. Every time he’s tried, Peter has just repeated, ‘You’ll see. It’s a surprise.’
It’s quiet here. Too quiet.
It’s quiet because it’s a normal neighbourhood. With normal houses.
Wade nods. ‘Weird, though. Can’t imagine what we’re doing here.’
Peter has clearly long since stopped finding it weird when Wade talks to himself. He doesn’t even react to it anymore. He just accepts it as one of Wade’s many eccentricities.
We love that about him!
‘We really, really do,’ Wade mutters under his breath.
Peter squeezes his hand and glances at him, smiling. ‘Almost there.’
They turn right, through a wrought iron gate, and head up a short path. Three steps and they’re at a door. It’s a cute house, wood siding, two stories, and a warm glow emits from the windows. Peter rings the doorbell.
The door opens, and they are greeted by a somewhat elderly looking woman with grey hair and kind eyes. ‘Peter!’ She puts her arms around him and hugs him. Peter hugs her back.
‘Hi, Aunt May.’ They pull apart, and Peter addresses Wade. ‘This is my aunt,’ he says, ‘the one who raised me. Aunt May, this is Wade. My boyfriend.’
Peter’s Aunt May doesn’t stare when she sees his face. She doesn’t look uncomfortable or grossed out or horrified. Instead, she looks into his eyes, smiling genuinely, and then hugs him too.
This . . . This has never happened before.
‘It’s so nice to finally meet you, Wade.’ She takes a step back and beams at her nephew. ‘Please, you two, come inside! Dinner’s almost ready.
Peter takes Wade’s hand again and brings it to his lips, kissing it lightly. They they walk inside.
END |
(Warning; Contains messing)
"How come only the cadets have to work outside today?" Connie complained as he held a bucket of feed up to Chalet's mouth. "I'm going to die of heat stroke before a Titan can even get to me."
"Stop whining." Jean replied. "I bet all scouts had to do this. We're earning our way."
"Well it's a little ridiculous that we've got to be out here in this insane heat while the squad leaders lounge around inside." Connie huffed.
"Actually, I think Captain Levi has them doing some more cleaning." Eren spoke up. "He's been pretty adamant about keeping this place spotless."
"Pfft, clean freak." Jean scoffed. "He's probably too afraid of getting dirt on his uniform to work outside."
"Don't talk about the captain like that." Eren scowled. "He's earned his title by doing hard work and getting his hands dirty. Do you see him complaining?"
"Aw, how sweet of you to defend your heichou." Reiner grinned teasingly.
Eren turned red and started to retort, but Sasha's yelp in the distance caused everybody's heads to turn.
"Hey guys!" The brunette hissed excitedly as she came running towards them. "You'll never guess what just happened!"
"What?" Armin asked, coming over to join the conversation.
"The supply carts were coming in and I…" Sasha beamed and pulled several beef cutlets from her jacket, making the cadets recoil in alarm.
"Are you fucking insane?" Jean snapped. "How have you not been arrested yet?"
"Ohhh! They looked so good I couldn't help it!" She whined before grinning at them gleefully. "Who wants to help me cook'em up?"
"You are crazy!" Jean confirmed. "Somebody's going to catch you!"
"Well, most likely not." Armin replied. "If we do it right behind the stables nobody should be able to see what we're doing."
"Are you actually considering that?" Eren asked him.
"Come on guys! When was the last time you had real, bloody, meat?" Sasha asked almost maniacally.
Connie sighed and dropped his shovel. "Yeah, okay. But if we get caught I'm blaming you."
Sasha released a thrilled squeal and together the two hurried behind the stables.
"Wait! I want some too!" Armin called, following them.
"Me too!" Reiner agreed and soon everybody was behind the stables, staring intently at the sizzling steaks as their mouths watered.
"How long do we cook them?" Eren wondered as he watched.
"Well, I think the best way is when they're still bleeding and the inside is sort of red but the outside turns brown." Sasha said through the drool that coated her lips.
"Sure beats bread." Jean laughed eagerly, though their small celebration was cut short when they heard light footsteps approaching. Panicking, Sasha quickly slammed the lid down on the pan of half-cooked meat and yanked it off of the small fire they had started, shoving it into a supply trunk while Eren, Armin, and Connie desperately fought to stomp out the fire. As they raced back to continue their assigned duties, they were greeted by Levi's entire squad who were in differing states of cheeriness.
"Levi has ordered that you head to the kitchens for lunch. We will finish your chores here." Petra smiled.
The cadets looked at each other, their thoughts all going straight to the closed pan of steaks that still sat sizzling inside the storage trunk. If they could sneak it past Squad Levi, they could resume cooking it in the kitchen but how?
"Thank you." Armin spoke up, walking over to the group and turning their gaze away from the stables. "Though it's pretty hot out here so maybe I could provide you with some simple ways to avoid heat exhaustion?" He offered, subtly motioning for the others to grab the pan and run. The cadets grinned, sneaking over to the trunk and nabbing the pan of meat while Armin blabbed on and on about the dangers of dehydration.
"Oh, ummm, thank you, Armin." Petra frowned slightly.
"Dumb rookie. Do you think we're idiots?" Oluo grouched.
"Ah, no sir, my apologies." Armin replied as he watched the others make a break for the castle. "I-I'll be going now." He finished, excusing himself to head after his comrades.
"Armin you're a life saver!" Jean grinned, giving the small blond a pat on the back as he entered the kitchen. Sasha placed the pan on the stove and removed the lid, watching eagerly as the steak began to sizzle once more.
"There!" She exclaimed, dropping the pan onto the large kitchen counter that dominated most of the room. "All finished!"
"I'll get some plates!" Jean grinned.
"I'll get the silverware." Connie added.
The cadets began to bustle around the kitchen but at the sound of a creaking door, they froze in their spot.
"What is going on in here?" Levi asked suspiciously, his eyes darting from their shocked expressions to the cutlery in their hands. Then he noticed the still-sizzling slabs of meat and raised an eyebrow. "Anyone care to explain?"
"Lunch! Uh…Captain." Armin spoke up. "Your squad members instructed us to head to the kitchen for lunch."
"And the steak? Surely that is not what was prepared…" Levi said. "Unless somebody sto-
"There was a new shipment of supplies today and steaks were cooked for all of the officers." Armin quickly cut off. "They were here when we arrived."
Armin glanced at Sasha, who looked ready to cry, then back at Levi. "We have been told to leave them for the Squad Captains and Commander."
"Hmph." Was all Levi replied and nodded. "Very well, gather your usual lunch and proceed to the dining room."
Heartbroken, the cadets gathered their usual meals of bread, tea, and vegetables before heading towards the dining room with Mikasa struggling to muffle Sasha's incessant bawls. Levi stood alone in the kitchen and shrugged, grabbing one of the steaks and dropping it onto his plate.
"Oi! Anybody still hungry?" Hange asked, pulling some bread out of her pockets. "I made it using specially treated yeast for longer lasting results."
"No thanks." Levi replied distastefully. "I'm still stuffed from lunch."
They were a small group. Levi and Hanji were in the middle, surrounded closely by his own team, then around them were the cadets. They were nearly finishing some formation drills, but soon night would come and the flares would be difficult to see in the sky.
Levi personally didn't mind. He felt slightly nauseated as the steak he'd eaten sat in his stomach like a rock. The constant movement of his horse didn't help. He was nearly tempted to end the simulation early, but Erwin certainly wouldn't appreciate that, so he just told himself to stop being a baby and keep moving.
"I'll have some!" Erd called over to Hanji. "Lunch was pathetic today!"
"I know, right?" Hange whined. "How do they expect us to maintain physical perfection if they keep us on a diet of bread and tea?"
"Well the steak from today's lunch should have helped." Levi replied, earning a clueless look from Hanji.
"Steak? What steak?"
Levi looked at her baffled. "What do you mean? The steak that was delivered for the officers! It was in a pan on the kitchen counter!"
Hange stared up in thought and nodded. "Ohhh, you mean that pile of half-cooked beef cutlets?" She recalled. "They were still raw and going bad so I took them to use on Titan experiments."
Levi froze in his spot and watched her casually shrug her shoulders. "Raw…?"
"Uh huh!"
Without another word, the captain turned forward in his seat feeling much more ill than he had before. That meat had been raw! It could make him sick! How filthy and disgusting and… A shudder went through him. How could he have been stupid enough to eat unknown meat? For all he knew it could have been rolling around in the dirt!
Levi's stomach lurched and he bit back a small groan. The symptoms began to hit him like a rock. First to appear was the overwhelming nausea that forced him to hold his breath every few seconds. Then came the cold sweat that caused sweat to form on his forehead and cheeks. He sighed and closed his eyes, the constant jarring of his galloping horse moving his stomach to and fro. Then the worst part came: the part that made him clench his muscles and press down into his saddle. The part that made him speed up.
"Hange." Levi forced out between deepening breaths. "Shoot the retreat flare."
"Huh? But we aren't even done with the drill." The woman replied in confusion.
"Just do it!" Levi ordered. He could feel the rest of his body soaking in sweat underneath his uniform and he wouldn't be surprised if his shirt was already completely drenched. Another horrible urge to vacate his bowels passed through him and he shut his eyes, squeezing down on the reins as he willed himself not to lose control. He would never let anyone see him like that.
At this point, Levi completely abandoned standard formation in favor of turning his horse around right then and there and galloping at high speed back towards the castle.
"Heichou!" Petra called after him in surprise. "What are you doing?"
Levi ignored her, the wind blowing his hair back and drying the sweat on his face as he raced for the castle. Another wave of nausea, then a few cramps struck him in his gut and he keeled over further on the saddle, clutching his stomach with one hand while the other held the reins. He quickly caught up with the cadets assigned to the rear, who watch in surprise as he went rocketing past them.
"Was that Levi?" Jean asked. "Are we in danger or something?"
"I don't know, but we should try to catch up to him!" Eren replied as he turned his own steed around to pursue the captain. The other cadets followed his actions and soon they were all galloping at top speed.
"I'm so sorry." Levi murmured to his horse. "Please forgive me." The need was unbearable and as the castle approached, he knew that he couldn't wait any longer. He hung in until he was about fifty yards from the castle's entrance before leaping off of the stallion and sprinting for the door. Behind him he could hear the stomping hooves of the cadet's horses, but he'd be damned if they witness such a disgraceful event. He made it a few more steps before an overpowering urge washed through his abdomen and he was forced to kneel down. He grabbed his stomach, shutting his eyes and putting all focus into keeping it in.
"Levi!" Hange called, causing Eren to turn his head.
"Hange? What's wrong with Levi Heichou?" The cadet asked worriedly. "Is he okay?"
"I don't know. He turned back without warning but I think he may need help." The woman replied.
Eren looked up in alarm. "You don't think the captain is hurt do you? We should help him!" Not waiting for a response, the boy dropped down from his horse and sprinted over to Levi, who looked ready to puke into the grass. "Heichou! Are you alright?" He asked. Moments later Hange was by his side and together they watched Levi struggle to remain calm and collected.
"Yes, just get away." Levi grunted, taking quick shallow breaths. Sweat glistened above his brow and dripped down his face as a small shudder overtook his lithe form, but finally he managed to get just enough control of his bowels to continue his running. With the help of his 3D maneuvering device, he flew towards the castle walls, leaving the two scouts stunned.
"We have to follow him!" Eren insisted, grabbing her sleeve and chasing after the captain.
Levi silently chanted pleas in his head: a plea to get to the toilet, a plea to not shit himself and a plea to keep anyone from finding out about this whole ordeal. He approached the door and retracted the wires, stumbling slightly in his landing. Another urge hit him and this one, he realized with dread, would not be fought back. It was now or never.
Levis abandoned his equipment and sprinted at top speed through the castle, but it wasn't enough. He had just reached the top of the stairs and was about to race down the hall when he collided with something heavy.
"Levi? You're back so early?" Erwin asked. "The formation drill wasn't supposed to end until six." The commander looked up to see his captain shivering and then he noticed the sickly pale hue of his face. "Are you okay?"
"Captain!" Eren called as he and Hange hurried up the steps. Now he was stuck. With Eren and Hange to the right and Erwin to the left Levi's body surrendered the fight and he dropped to his knees, hanging his head in shame.
"Wha…c-captain?" Eren asked softly. He began to step forward, but Hange grabbed the back of his jacket and held him back, holding a finger to her lips.
The mess couldn't leave him soon enough. At first it was fairly solid, the shit that is, and pressed against his skin, making his cringe at the disgusting feeling. More and more forced itself out of him and there was nothing he could do but sit there on his knees in silence and pray for it to be over soon. If only. Instead, the mess grew larger, squeezing itself out of his underwear and pushing towards his crotch until his entire backside was coated in the substance.
Then came the diarrhea which spurted out in humiliatingly loud bursts of shit and water and made Eren's expression change into that of mortified horror as the captain decomposed in from of him. "Ca…c…"
"Fuck." Levi hiccupped, clenching his teeth as ashamed tears forced their way into his eyes. The mess began to shift into new places: down his pants to his thighs mostly. The liquid formed a pool inside the mess or leaked through his pants onto the floor between his legs to begin a puddle.
Then Levi began to shiver again. He shook as he felt essential nutrients leaving his body, flushing out his whole system to leave him weak and shaky. His face burned and more tears joined the sweat. Finally, a long stream of hot piss uncontrollably released from his bladder, soaking the front of his pristine white trousers and pooling around him. Then everything stopped and everybody froze.
It was Erwin who stepped forward and crouched down in front of Levi, careful to avoid the mess. He reached out to help Levi to his feet, but the small captain batted his hands away. "Don't touch me." He barked roughly and both Hanji and Eren held back gasps, surprised at the outright disrespect in Levi's voice.
"Levi, I believe you have food poisoning." Hange stated. "It would be wise to clean yourself up and get some rest while the illness passes through you."
Obviously she was ignored by the captain, who was still fighting Erwin's advances to aid him. Unfortunately, his small, shaking body was no use against the commander's more powerful form. Seizing the captain's thin arms and shuddering shoulders, Erwin began to stand, pulling Levi up with him.
This time Eren could not suppress his surprised gasp when he caught sight of the captain's pants in their demolished state. The piss had soaked his perfect white pants, causing a large brown stain to seep through the back while the front had turned a dingy yellow all the way to his knees, which were knocking against each other violently.
And then Levi made a noise that sounded like a mix between a choke and a cough. A string of curses escaped his lips and his teeth bit down on his bottom lip as tears escaped. Eren couldn't see the man's eyes, but he had a clear view of the tears that were racing down his cheeks and dripping to the floor. He gasped, his body jerking. Then he let out one broken, nearly inaudible sob.
"Hange." Erwin said, pulling the other two witnesses out of their stupor. "Go fetch some rags from the supply closet and make some ginger tea."
"Yes, sir!" Hange said, casting one last sympathetic glance at Levi before hurrying down the stairs.
Erwin then turned to Eren. "You go heat up some water for a bath. Fill the tub with only five inches of water. Then go heat up more water."
Eren's eyes widened and he nodded quickly. "Yes, Commander!" He replied before obediently hurrying to the bathroom for the tubs.
Once alone, Erwin turned back to Levi. "Can you walk?" He asked. Levi gave him a small nod so steadying him by his shoulders, the larger man led him down the hall and to the bathroom.
"M-mess." Levi hiccupped, his eyes darting back to the puddle.
"I'll see that it's cleaned." Erwin replied, guiding him into a bathroom. With little effort, he lifted Levi and set him gently into the porcelain bathtub where the man weakly rested on his knees once more.
"Such a mess." Levi repeated, sounding more like a whimper this time. His fists clenched and his breathing quickened at the feeling of shit squishing against his skin. His eyes widened and more tears escaped as he became more and more overwhelmed.
"Relax, Levi." Erwin told him. He reached over and began to pet Levi's hair with one large hand. "We'll get rid of the mess. You'll be clean."
As promised, Hange and Eren returned with armfuls of rags and buckets full of lightly steaming water. With a short nod, Erwin excused them to continue their instructions and turned back to Levi, who was shivering now.
Erwin helped him up once more and removed his boots, his jacket, his harnesses, and everything else until he stood bare of all clothing except for his soiled white trousers. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself for the dirty job, Erwin reached over for the waist band but a hand stopped him.
"What are you doing?" Levi said roughly despite the shakiness in his voice.
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm cleaning you." Erwin replied.
"I can take care of myself." Levi grunted, but was completely ignored as his commander began to yank down his trousers and underpants. The mess that waited for him was viler than anything Erwin cared to face, but for Levi's sake he kept his expression neutral.
"It's not that bad." Erwin told him as he fought back the urge to gag.
"Shut up you fucking liar." Levi growled miserably, but Erwin ignored him and instead plugged the drain of the bathtub so that he could begin removing the waste from Levi's privates. It took a lot of time and several more buckets of water but once all of the shit had been washed from his backside and legs, Erwin drained the tub and grabbed a rag.
"How are you feeling?" Erwin asked as he lathered Levi's entire body up with soap.
"Great. Fucking fantastic." Levi grumbled. He was not feeling too thrilled about being cleaned like a child, but Erwin insisted that he was too shaky to do the job himself. "Just finish up already."
"If I hurry, I might miss a spot." Erwin replied calmly. "And I know how you feel about cleanliness."
Levi huffed, but he knew Erwin was right. Just standing still while he was wiped down had brought on a wave of fatigue that made his eyes pulse with dizziness. It was best to just let Erwin take care of him.
"Oh God, oh God!" Connie cried, panicking as he waited outside with the others. "We killed Levi Heichou!"
"Get a grip on yourself!" Jean said, grabbing his shoulders, but he took looked rather anxious.
"Such a waste!" Sasha was crying and Mikasa was trying to console her while Armin nervously glanced between the two groups.
"Will you guys shut up?" Eren snapped. "He's not dead. Hanji said he's got a food poisoning from the bad meat he ate."
"Food poisoning?" Jean questioned.
"So we didn't kill him?" Connie added.
"No, but he's very ill and almost too weak to move. Commander Erwin is overlooking his treatment as we speak." Eren assured them.
"So the captain will be okay!" Connie cried with relief. "Thank God we didn't kill him!"
"What happened inside?" Jean asked curiously. "You were in there a long time."
Eren blushed and hesitated. Should he embarrass Levi by telling them the truth? No, that would be mean and only make the captain dislike him even further. He did not want to humiliate the strong captain for something as simple as being sick.
"Nothing much." Eren lied. "Levi was taken to his chambers to rest."
"It's good that the captain is alright." Armin sighed. "He's strong and will hopefully regain his health quickly."
"Just don't feed him anymore meat." Mikasa stated. "I don't think you cooked it all the way."
"Well it's not my fault! We were interrupted!" Sasha pouted. "I can't believe we didn't even get to try any!"
"Well it's a good thing we didn't or we'd be bedridden like Levi!" Jean exclaimed.
"Jean is right. We could all be puking our guts out right now, but we aren't thanks to the captain." Eren said.
"Thanks, now leave." Levi muttered as Erwin gently laid him in bed. He shivered, his tiny body trembling from the harshness of the ailment and Erwin was immediately there to pull the covers up to his chin.
"Hange made you some ginger tea to help." The commander said. "Drink as much as you can and get some rest. I'm right next door."
Levi hmphed and turned his head away. Assured by this action, Erwin finally left him alone. |
(My writer's block is finally over! Thanks for the previous feedback on my writing, I thought that I should keep on practicing. Please leave any feedback or criticism that you might have, I appreciate it!)
CHAPTER ONE: HOME
I groaned to myself as I slowed down for the red light. But I also took the opportunity to use both of my hands to push against my bladder in desperation. I knew that I would barely make it home on time to make it to the bathroom, and that redlights were not going to help.
Please, fucking change!!!
I only lived five minutes away. I felt tears in my eyes due to being extremely desperate. The library at the university was closing when I got out. I opted to write and turn in an essay due at midnight instead of using the bathroom, which were closed by the time they started to kick out people. The university was an hour drive, and since I had already been holding for another hour or so at the university, I desperately needed to go. I had my favorite designer jeans on, and I really didn't want to ruin them.
I immediately took off once the light turned green. The car I had drove pretty smooth as another luxury feature, so it helped me hold my bladder in. I finally got to the driveway. I parked my car in the driveway of the house, and rushed out. I had to bend in desperation as I stood up, stomping my feet in place. I slowly walked to the door, careful not to lose control. I shakingly placed the key into the lock, and turned. Stepping inside, I let out a sigh of extreme relief, knowing that I was close. I quickly grew horrified when I noticed that my relief wasn't mental, but it was my bladder beginning to let loose.
I squeaked in horror and embarrassment, shoving my hands in between my legs. I could feel a bit of urine soaking through my panties and jeans, with a few drops forming on the floor. I rushed to the bathroom door. As I went through the hallway, I noticed that the backdoor in the kitchen was open, with only the screen door closed. I didn't know what to do. I was frozen in place.
Could that possibly mean there's an intruder? The fear left my frozen in place. I was still fighting my desperation, but I couldn't bring myself to get to the bathroom in fear. And thats where it only became worst.
I felt something cover my mouth, realizing it was a cloth. I was dragged back, feeling an arm grab hold of my neck, putting me into a sort of headlock. I tried shouting out, but my protests were muffled by the cloth. I grabbed the assailant's arm, trying to get him to pull off. He pushed me back, putting his leg in between my legs in an effort to get me off balance and trip me. I noticed that it wasn't as hard to try to pull his arm off (not that I succeded), and that my assailant wasn't a really hefty person, as a murderer or kidnapper would be. I heard his grunts of struggle, and I realized that my assailant was actually a she. It made sense, considering that my physical strength was slightly weaker than hers, and that she was about my size.
However, I didn't notice that I lost total control. I felt the warmness of the urine stream down my legs. I felt the wetness spread out through the front of my jeans. The tightness of my pantylines, along with the awkward angle at which I was, allowed the stream to travel up and soak the back of my jeans, almost as if I were sitting down while wetting myself. I couldn't even cross my legs in the hopes of keeping my clothes as dry as possible. I cried out as I felt both the relief and embarrassment of wetting myself.
"Goddamit" the assailant complained, as she felt the urine soak her leg that she put in between mines to try to trip me. Afterwards, I don't know if I was the one who slipped on the growing puddle beneath us, or if it was her, but we both fell to the floor. Unfortunately, not only was it me who fell into the puddle further soaking myself in urine, but she got the advantage and fell on top of me, making it easier to hold me down. She dropped the cloth, and I could finally speak
"Help! Please, help!!" I screamed, hoping that a neighbor could hear. But since this was an upper-class neighbor, the houses were big and further apart, so I don't think anybody heard me.
"Shut up! You're making it worst for yourself!" she growled in response.
I felt one of her hands let go of me, and just like that, I felt a sharp sting on my neck. There was a cold feeling running through the area where I was stung, followed by a sudden fit of extreme drowsiness. I felt myself get weaker, and put up less of a fight. Eventually, I couldn't move due to the fatigue. I couldn't even move my mouth. The assailant got up, staring at me as I tried to move my body. I was at her feet, humiliated, defeated and helpless.
I felt myself drift out, as I heard her laugh. I know she was making fun of me for wetting myself, but I couldn't make out what she was saying. I did hear a ripping noise, like tape. She grabbed my head up by my hair, to tape my mouth shut. The last thing I felt was my arms being placed on my back, and then everything turned dark. |
My first omorashi story. Feedback is much appreciated.
Sophie Vogel stood in the driveway leading up to her apartment complex, holding a suitcase in one hand and a guitar case in the other, a backpack hanging off one shoulder. The wind whipped through her long brown hair, blowing in in front of her face, and she shook it off as she peered down the street in front of her. Where were they? They said they'd be there at 8:00 sharp, but it was 8:27 and still no sign of them. Sophie just sighed. If she'd learned anything since joining Sound and Fury, it was that schedules didn't mean much. Still, she knew they'd show up. They'd never failed her before.
Sophie had been learning a lot in the past two weeks, ever since she'd been wandering through downtown on a blustery Saturday and spotted a piece of paper tacked to a telephone pole. GUITARIST NEEDED, it read, and that was enough to pique her interest. After all, guitar was her passion, and playing in a band had been her dream since junior high, but she'd never been able to make it happen. So it was with excitement that she grabbed the paper, looked below the hand drawn graphics, and read that local band Sound and Fury was looking for a rhythm guitarist. She grabbed the piece of paper and took it home, calling the number written there on a whim late that night, and with some trepidation found herself with an audition date. She was hired immediately after.
And now was the day that Sophie had spent the last two weeks preparing for, learning every Sound and Fury song down to meticulous detail, quitting her dead end job at the local sleazy bar and getting a whole new wardrobe, including the black skinny jeans and Misfits t-shirt she was wearing now. Sound and Fury was going on tour, and she was coming along. It was everything she'd ever hoped for and more, and the lateness of her band mates hardly served to dampen her excitement. This was her chance! She'd never really done any performing outside of her high school talent show, and now she was going on a tour around the whole Northwest. If only the rest of Sound and Fury could bother to show up!
She had a feeling that she knew the reason they were late. After last night's practice ended, Phoebe, the drummer, invited everyone into the kitchen and began mixing Jägerbombs. Sophie managed to duck out, not really having the taste for alcohol, but she was sure that everyone else in the band was going to be pretty hung over. But not her; in fact the opposite was true. She'd gone to bed early, knowing it'd probably be the last good sleep she'd have in a while. In the morning, she woke up early, packed, sat down to a huge breakfast of eggs, bacon, and a lot of tea, and then showered and got ready, walking out to the curb at 7:59. And now she waited.
Finally, however, she saw a black van emerge onto the street, making its way toward her with no real hurry. This was the touring van, as evidenced by the lightning bolts spray-painted on the side below the stenciled words SOUND AND FURY. This was "the van" amongst the band, with no more clarification needed, as Sophie had found out. Pressing further, she found out that this was the same van the bassist Marlowe had bought seven years ago after finishing high school. Though it was nearing 200000 miles, and was certainly the worse for wear, the band would not think of parting with it.
The van pulled up in front of her, and from the passenger side Marlowe jumped out, gloved hands reaching for her suitcase and guitar.
"What's going on?" he asked, taking both from her and heading for the back of the van.
"Not much," Sophie replied. "Excited to get on the road."
"Ain't we all." He gave her a grin, opening up the back and throwing her stuff in. Marlowe was probably the friendliest of the band, an affable man in his early twenties, with long shaggy brown hair and a predilection for trenchcoats. Marlowe was his stage name, one that he took after forming Sound and Fury with his lifelong friend Hazel, and Sophie hadn't really gotten around to asking him what his real name was yet, although she was more than a little curious. He'd been by far the most welcoming, however, and she didn't want to get on his bad side.
"You got stuck with middle seat," said Marlowe apologetically, walking around to the passenger side and pulling his seat forward so she could get to the back. Sitting next to him in the driver's seat was Hazel Lindenshire, the band's singer and de facto manager. She was one of the founders of the band, and held imperious control over the finances and logistics of Sound and Fury, along with delivering some of the most convincing angry vocals Sophie had ever heard. Sophie had kind of been in awe of the imposing woman ever since she met her, and barely mumbled out a reply when she was greeted by Hazel. Instead, she slung her backpack into her hands and climbed into the back, situating herself in between her remaining two band mates.
Jonathan Edwards, the lead guitarist, sat on her left with earbuds in, leaning against the window, and Phoebe Starr, the drummer sat on her right, tapping out a rhythm on her legs. Both raised hands in greeting, and Sophie replied in kind, sitting down in the cracked upholstered seat and pulling the seatbelt across her lap. It was as she did so that she felt a twinge in her bladder, like the gentle plucking of a guitar string, and she frowned. She hadn't gone to the bathroom since early this morning, and it looked like those cups of tea were catching up to her. Never mind. It wasn't a problem or anything.
"Alright," called Hazel. "We got a long day of driving ahead of us, so get comfortable." She started the van, executing a neat U-turn and pulling away from the apartment building.
"Where are we going tonight?" called Phoebe.
"Goddammit, I've told you all a hundred times,” said Hazel. “We're crashing with Marlowe's friend in Klamath Falls tonight. Tomorrow we go to Medford and play there.”
“Well, alright then,” said Phoebe, nothing daunted, settling back in her seat. Sophie reached into her backpack, pulling out a slim paperback: the collected stories of H.P. Lovecraft. Marlowe had recommended it to her; second only to his love of rock was his love of literature, and he was constantly trying to push books on his bandmates, as Sophie had seen at only the three band practices she’d been to. Luckily, he did have rather good taste, and Sophie soon found herself engrossed as the van continued on its merry way.
The first hour or so was spent in relative silence; as she suspected, Phoebe and Jonathan were clearly suffering the effects of last night, Marlowe had his pad of paper out, possibly working on a new song, and Hazel was concentrating on driving. Sophie passed the time reading, watching the scenery through the front windows, and daydreaming about her first real show. But it wasn’t long before the inhabitants of the van began to get a little more restless, Sophie included. Her bladder was definitely starting to make its presence known; it wasn’t a problem, just a mere discomfort, causing Sophie to shift around a little in her seat. Still, she hoped that they would stop for a break soon. She’d never had the largest bladder, and this was definitely not the time to test her limits.
“Hey! Anyone want to stop up here?” called Hazel from the front, gesturing to a blue sign reading REST STOP 3 MILES.
“ ‘M good,” murmured Jonathan.
“I don’t need to,” said Phoebe.
“Me neither,” said Marlowe, looking up from his paper. Sophie shrugged; well, if no one else wanted to stop, she certainly didn’t want to inconvenience them. It wasn’t like she needed to stop or anything. If the rest of Sound and Fury was fine, then she would be fine with them.
“I’m fine,” she said, and Hazel nodded.
“Alright- Hey! What do you think you’re doing, you bastard!” she yelled at the car in front of them that had cut them off. Phoebe joined in the verbal abuse, raising a middle finger, and the topic was soon forgotten.
It wasn’t long, however, before that topic was the only thing on Sophie’s mind. She needed to go; there was no denying it. If before her bladder was giving her the gentle twang of an acoustic guitar, now it was sending her sharp, percussive chords, and she began to press her thighs together, deeply regretting the choice of skinny jeans. Sure, they looked great on her, but they were cutting into her bladder with a vengeance. Still, she was fine. She was completely in control. It wasn’t like she was having any problems holding it or anything -
A sharp pang hit without warning, and she barely muffled a squeak, bending forward ever so slightly and crossing her legs tightly. A second later, it subsided, and Sophie hurriedly returned to her old position, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. Luckily, Jonathan was still out of it, and Phoebe was never the most observant person anyway. Sophie breathed a sigh of relief, still keeping her legs pressed tightly together. She was fine. No problems whatsoever.
The van just rattled along down the open highways, going a constant 12 miles over the speed limit. Sophie’s condition was steadily worsening as the clock ticked away, and she was forced to keep constantly shifting positions, hoping that none of her bandmates would notice and ask her what was going on. Her bladder felt like a leaden weight, and the jeans certainly weren’t helping matters any; she wished dearly that she could just unbutton the top button, but surely someone would see. She just had to keep holding. It wasn’t like they were going to drive forever, after all.
Finally, Hazel changed lanes and pulled off the highway, and Sophie almost cheered. The band must be stopping for lunch! Surely, the restaurant would have some sort of bathroom that she could use! Indeed, the van pulled off at the first restaurant they saw, a Burger King, parking in front. Hazel turned the car off and handed the keys to Marlowe. “You drive for a while.”
“Alright,” he said, getting out of his seat and moving it forward for the passengers in the back to get out. Sophie unbuckled and stood up slowly, before realizing to her horror that in order to get out she would have to clamber over the collapsed seat. Slowly, with palms clenched, she stepped with one leg over the seat, immediately feeling a massive wave of desperation hit her. She quickly swung the other leg over, leaping out and crossing her legs tightly, jamming her palm into her crotch. The wave subsided, and quickly she stood up, hoping dearly no one had seen that embarrassing display. If they did, no one said anything, and the five of them walked into the Burger King together.
“I’m gonna hit the bathroom,” Sophie announced, somewhat shakily, and Jonathan nodded.
“Me too,” he said, marching off towards the single room in the back. Sophie followed him as he walked in and immediately walked out.
“Son of a bitch!” he swore. “That place is fucking foul!”
Sophie peeked her head in, and saw that he was not lying. The bathroom was one of the nastiest ones she’d ever seen. Water and waste lay everywhere, along with half of a six pack of beer and some hypodermic needles; the stench almost made her throw up. Behind her she heard Jonathan complaining to the manager, who seemed rather surprised about the thing; it seemed that this mess was a recent affair. Groaning, Sophie made her way back to the rest of the group. There was no way she could use that. She’d just have to wait.
She was handed a burger, and the group made its way back to the van, Sophie moving more than a little hesitantly, eating her lunch in a few bites as she did so.
“Yo!” called Marlowe. “Phoebe, you take middle now. Sophie, you can have left side.”
Sophie nodded, barely registering what he was saying, instead focusing on how to get into the van without incident. Gritting her teeth, she stepped up, putting one leg over the seat; to her absolute horror, and despite all her efforts to stop it, a small spurt of hot pee jetted out. As quickly as she could, she jumped into the back, sitting down and crossing her legs, holding her crotch for all it was worth, cutting off the flow. She could feel the waters pounding at the dam walls, and she knew she had to do something or she wouldn’t last five minutes. Quickly, with her thighs still clenched, she unbuttoned the top of her jeans, and sighed with relief as she felt the desperation subside to a manageable level. Quickly she positioned herself so Phoebe wouldn’t be able to see the top of her jeans, mentally preparing herself for the ride ahead.
The next hour was pure torture for the girl, as she struggled to hold back her pee without letting her band mates know. What would this group of rockers think if they knew that the fifth member of their band was on the verge of completely flooding her pants? Sophie couldn’t bear to think of that. She had to prove that she was just as capable of surviving the rigors of touring as they were. She wasn’t a little girl anymore; she was going to be a rock star. And rock stars knew how to wait.
She squirmed around in her seat, occasionally pressing a hand to her crotch when she thought her bandmates weren’t looking. But it was becoming increasingly clear to her that she wasn’t going to last for much longer. Her bladder was sending throbbing power chords of pain to her brain now, and despite anything she did, her desperation was only getting worse. Her eyes widened with shock as, suddenly, another short jet of pee dribbled out without warning. Horrified, she looked down at the crotch of her jeans. You couldn’t see anything yet, but if she didn’t get somewhere in time, that wouldn’t be true for much longer. She didn’t think she could bear the utter humiliation of wetting herself like a child in front of the band she so longed to impress, but she was beginning to realize how close that was to happening.
“Anyone need to stop?” asked Hazel from the passenger seat, pointing to a sign announcing another rest stop up ahead.
“Yeah,” announced Jonathan. “I gotta piss like a racehorse.”
“Spare me the details,” said Hazel in exasperation, as Sophie’s heart leapt in joy. The god of rockers was looking out for her today, it seemed, as Marlowe pulled off the road and into the parking lot of the rest stop. Hurriedly, Sophie unbuckled, not even bothering to remove a hand from her crotch as Hazel jumped out and moved her seat forward. Phoebe climbed out, agonizingly slowly, before Jonathan got out, seemingly in not much better shape than Sophie was, and dashed off for the bathroom. Finally, it was Sophie’s turn. Somehow, she managed to get herself out of the van with only a few more drops left, and stiffly marched off to the bathroom.
Just then, as she walked towards her salvation, the worst wave of desperation yet hit her, and Sophie began to run, knowing that if she didn’t get a bathroom soon, all would be lost. Squirting out small spurts with every hard footfall, the young rocker burst into the women’s room, dancing around with wild abandon as she pulled down her jeans to her knees and dashed into a stall. Slamming down onto a toilet, not even bothering to pull her panties off or close the stall door, Sophie finally let sweet relief consume her.
A massive jet shot into the porcelain bowl, and Sophie almost moaned with relief at how good it felt to just let it all out. The hard stream persisted for another theory second or so before it began to taper off, sending out small shoots before dribbling to a halt. Finally, it ended, and Sophie could stand up to inspect the damage. Her panties were sopping wet, but her jeans were unharmed, and Sophie shrugged. She could go commando for a few hours. All things considered, she had been pretty lucky.
She disposed of her underwear, pulled her jeans up and made her way back to the van, where Hazel was calling everyone over.
"Marlowe's friend just called. His plumbing's gone to shit. So no showers, and if you think you're gonna have to go to the bathroom I'd do it now. We have a long night ahead of us." |
Wow it has taken me forever to write this. I hope it's worth the extremely long wait! Feedback, as always, is awesome.
Sophie Vogel was pacing around the cobblestoned patio, nervous energy rushing through her. This was it. This is what she’d been looking forward to for the last two weeks, this is what she'd been dreaming about for the last fourteen nights, this is what she’d been worrying about for these past fourteen days. It was the first show of the tour. In just a few minutes, she’d go up and perform in front of hundreds of people, and there was no turning back. It was both the most exhilarating and the most terrifying thing to ever happen to her.
One last time, she ran through her mental checklist. Her guitar was tuned and ready to go; she had another guitar backstage tuned to Drop D. She had her bottle of water, and had just got back from the bathroom. She knew the setlist like the back of her hand. The amps sounded fine. All she had to do was get up there and shred.
“Hey!” It was the house sound guy, peeping his head out of the door that led backstage. “Fury and Sound, or whatever you guys are called! You’re on!”
Around her, the band jumped to their feet, and together the five of them followed the sound guy through the door and down a set of stairs. The stage was empty; their equipment was set up. All they needed to do was plug in and go.
“Alright,” said Marlowe. “Let’s do this.”
A wave of panic seized Sophie, but she still found herself grabbing her guitar, walking up to her amp and plugging in. It was only then that she looked up into the blinding stage lights. She couldn’t make out the audience very well, but she could easily see there were people in the hundreds.
Sophie took a deep breath. Everything was going to be fine. More than fine; they were going to kick ass! Everything she ever wanted was in front of her, and all she had to do was reach out and take it.
“Everyone ready?” asked Marlowe. Sophie gave him the thumbs-up, and behind her she heard Phoebe begin the count off. Her fingers knew what to do; she launched into the song with no problem, and heard a wave of cheers go up. The show was on.
The first half was great, but slowly Sophie began to realize something was amiss. The show was going awesome so far; the crowd was loving every minute of it. But something seemed off about Hazel. She was singing fine, but with way less passion than usual, and her stage banter was nonexistent. She seemed stiff and uncomfortable, twisting her legs and wriggling around. It was lucky that everyone else was having an incredible night. Jonathan was playing like a madman, diving on the whammy bar and making the guitar wail. His manic stage presence was more than enough to distract the crowd from anything else. Marlowe’s bass was in fine form, and he was picking up a lot of the slack, bantering with the audience like an old pro and even approximating the vocal line when Hazel missed a verse. Phoebe was hitting the skins like she meant to pummel them into oblivion, and Sophie herself was having the time of her life. All her worries had left her; she was playing off of Jonathan in a way that surprised even herself, and she knew it sounded great. But she was starting to worry about Hazel. What was going on?
Finally, they paused to switch into Drop D, heading backstage to grab their other guitars. The second they were out of the audience’s sight, Marlowe rounded on Hazel.
“What the hell’s going on?”
“I’m about to fucking piss myself,” Hazel said through gritted teeth. “I have to pee so bad right now, you wouldn’t even believe it.” Sophie saw the vocalist was bent over slightly, hand pressed into her crotch while she squirmed back and forth.
“God dammit,” said Marlowe, as he grabbed his bass. “You, if anyone, should remember to fucking piss before shows!” He shook his head. “Look, we have four songs left. Are you gonna make it?”
“I think so,” said Hazel, sounding less than confident.
“We gotta go,” said Jonathan, worried.
Marlowe nodded. “Look. We’ll do the banter and all that shit. You can just sing. It’ll be fine.” And with that, Sound and Fury walked back out on stage, Hazel grabbing her crotch while pretending not to, looking on the verge of tears. Sophie shook her head. She doubted Hazel would make it through one more song. What were they going to do? They couldn’t go on without a vocalist, but they couldn’t have one of their members piss themselves on stage either. Hazel just had to hold it.
Their next song was painful. Hazel was struggling to sing, standing on the stage with legs clamped together and wriggling around. It was easily her worst performance of the night, and the crowd was beginning to notice. They were still getting into it, but nothing like before. Sophie cursed under her breath. Hazel was the frontwoman! She wasn’t supposed to be the one to forget something as essential as wetting before the show! This may not have been the worst case scenario, but it was pretty close.
But eventually, the song finished, and they launched into another, trying to finish the show as soon as possible to let their struggling vocalist find some relief. But it was just going worse and worse. Hazel was leaving entire lines out of the song, hitting flat note after flat note. The crowd was growing restless. And then, as the musicians launched into the outro, Sophie saw Hazel jump a little, then almost bend over. She stood up immediately, but Sophie saw the damage on the back of her jeans; a wet patch, glistening in the stage lights. Probably not viewable from the audience, but pretty close.
Marlowe said as few words as he could, and Phoebe counted off the penultimate song, way faster than normal. Sophie went along with it, fingers flying on the fretboard, as she saw Hazel step up to the microphone, then suddenly turn and book it for the wings. As she ran past, Sophie saw streaks of pee run down Hazel’s legs. She’d really done it. She’d pissed herself on stage, and now Sound and Fury was truly screwed. She could hear the audience murmuring; they knew something was wrong. Why else would the singer just go and run off stage? Oh, shit. They wouldn’t have to cancel, would they? Their reputation would be ruined. They’d never get invited back.
She looked around in panic, just as she saw Jonathan step up to right where Hazel had been. He looked oddly relaxed as his fingers began to fly, and the audience stopped their murmuring and began to cheer at his improvised solo. Sophie had to fight to keep her jaw from dropping. It was incredible; virtuosic, yet completely in time and in tune with the song. Once again, she thanked her lucky stars for being let into this band. This was nothing short of amazing.
But once the song/solo finished to an explosion of cheers, Sophie knew the band faced another dilemma. They still had one more song; their grand finale, the song that all the regional radio stations were playing. They couldn’t finish without it. Their fans would be crushed.
Not knowing exactly what she was doing, but knowing what had to be done, she stepped up to the mic, avoiding a small puddle of pee. Marlowe nodded and turned back to the rest of the band, giving them the a-okay sign, and Phoebe counted them off. And so they launched into their last song, to another round of cheers, Sophie singing her heart out. She wasn’t as good as Hazel, of course, but she knew the song like the back of her hand, and she could carry it well enough. Her heart was pounding, but she put on a smile the whole way through, up until the final chord. The cheers at the end were deafening, and Sophie could help but laugh with pure relief as she stepped away from the mic. It was another success for Sound and Fury, and it couldn’t have happened without her. Now, she truly belonged. |
It feels like ages since I've written anything! I thought I'd try something with characters a bit less blatantly sympathetic than I usually make them :) Enjoy!
**************************************************************************************************************************************
Ruth Bindle stared through the windshield and ground her teeth. Carter Worthington balanced easily on his crutches on the sidewalk, chatting with friends as if he had all the time in the world, not like Ruth was waiting to drive him home out of the goodness of her heart.
After another minute, Ruth punched the horn impatiently. Carter lazily turned his head toward her and rolled his eyes. Looking back at his friends, he said something that Ruth couldn’t hear, but she was sure it was nothing complimentary. He paused to listen to their laughter a moment too long, just to show Ruth that she couldn’t order him around, then hopped over to the car and opened the door.
“What’s the rush, Bindle?” Carter smirked. “We both know you don’t have any social engagements to get to.”
Ruth sniffed haughtily as she put the car in drive. “I have to drop my acceptance response to Dartmouth at the post office. If I want to get it out today, we have to get there by 3:30.”
Carter cringed ever so slightly. “You gonna drop me off first?”
“Not since you kept me waiting, no. The post office is on the other side of town; if I take you back, I might not make it in time.”
Carter shifted in his seat. “Fine. Just make it fast.”
Ruth glared in his direction, but didn’t say anything. She knew plenty of girls would relish the chance to drive Carter around, but Ruth had the misfortune of living next door to him. Their mothers were old friends, so when Carter had totaled his car 3 weeks prior, it was never seriously considered that anyone else would drive him to and from school.
Carter’s accident had been way worse than his current blasé attitude would indicate. He’s spun out on some late-January black ice while driving home from grabbing dinner after basketball practice, wrapping his Benz around a utility pole. Despite a broken ankle, three fractured ribs, multiple facial lacerations, and a concussion resulting in a 3-day coma, Carter somehow managed to return to school just as much of an arrogant prick as ever.
Ruth had worried about Carter while he was in the hospital. Though they all but avoided each other now, they’d grown up together, attending the same schools their entire lives. She’d even considered pitying him when he hobbled out his front door earlier that day to return to school for the first time since the accident, his face still marred with scabs and bruises, his crutch-aided gait far more awkward than his typical athletic saunter. But then, he’d slid into the car without so much as a “Thanks for doing this,” instead opting for a caustic remark about her hairstyle, and Ruth concluded that she didn’t feel bad for him at all. She only hoped that his leg healed and the insurance check came through before she had to spend too much time with him.
Now, later that afternoon, Carter sat in the passenger seat, earbuds in, deliberately not looking at Ruth. Though, Ruth thought, sneaking a glance in his direction, “sat” was a bit of an overstatement. Carter was shifting back and forth, constantly adjusting position. Ruth wondered how long it had been since Carter had been a passenger in someone else’s car instead of driving himself.
Of course, Carter’s discomfort had nothing to do with his place on the right side of the car.
He had to pee.
Carter’s first day back at school had gone about as well as he would have hoped for. Teachers went easy on him, their eyes full of sympathy at each glimpse of his yet-unhealed face. Girls leaned in eagerly at the lunch table to hear his every description of the accident, and his teammates were more than willing to help carry his books and help him get around.
But there had been one part of the day that Carter hadn’t planned on. How was he going to use the bathroom? He didn’t have the balance yet to stand at the urinal, and situating himself in the stall would likely take more time than the break between classes would allow. And he wouldn’t even consider letting his friends help with that.
So here he sat, in Ruth’s car, trying not to squirm too noticeably. He was sure he could make it until she took him home, but it wasn’t going to be an easy trip.
Ruth and Carter remained determinedly silent as they made their way across town to the post office. Ruth didn’t say a word as she opened the door to run her acceptance letter into the branch, but she did leave the car running so Carter wouldn’t freeze in the cold February afternoon.
Carter took advantage of her absence to grasp at his crotch. He still wasn’t quite at his limit, but the cast on his right leg prevented him from sitting in a position sufficient for holding. He squeezed himself for a few moments, adding a sense of control to his bladder to get him through the rest of the ride home.
Ruth returned in a minute, still silent as she pulled out of the parking lot. She was no longer paying any attention to Carter whatsoever, so she didn’t notice when his breathing increased.
Carter’s heart rate had spiked as soon as Ruth had turned out of the post office. She had turned left. Left could only mean one thing. The route she was taking back to their street would take him past the spot of his accident, a road he hadn’t driven down since the crash.
The buildings along the road blurred together as Carter’s eyes unexpectedly filled with tears. He unconsciously gripped the armrest, his knuckles white. They were only minutes away.
A low whine escaped from Carter’s throat. Misinterpreting the sound, Ruth scoffed. “For God’s sake, Carter, you’ll get home 15 minutes later than you expected. Relax.”
Carter barely heard her. The site of his crash was less than a half mile ahead, and his mind flooded with images from that night. The snow. The streetlights. The spin-out…
“No…” Carter whimpered, “No no no…”
Stunned by the fear in Carter’s voice, Ruth snapped her head around to look at him, and was greeted with the sight of Carter’s pale, sweaty form, clutching desperately at his seat belt, eyes squeezed shut.
“Shit!” Ruth cried, pulling into a strip mall just past the location of Carter’s accident. She threw the car into park and turned toward her classmate.
“Carter!” she called, trying to urge him back to reality. “Carter!”
But Carter was too far gone, lost in all-to-real images of his car revolving out of control, slamming into the utility pole – the screeching tires, the splintering wood, the crunching metal.
Ruth grimaced worriedly. “Come on, man,” she pleaded.
Still clinging to his seat belt, pressing his body against the seat, Carter didn’t open his eyes. “No no no…” he trembled.
“Carter, it’s OK, you’re…” Ruth’s voice broke off with a gasp as she stared at her passenger.
A dark stain had blossomed on Carter’s lap, spreading outward across the crotch of his gray sweatpants. He wasn’t just having a panic attack; he was actually peeing his pants.
Floored and flustered by the sight of an 18-year-old boy having an accident in front of her, Ruth straightened. Then, without a second thought, reached out and slapped Carter across the face.
Carter yelped at the contact, shuddering with shock. He turned to glare at Ruth, but was stopped with a sudden awareness of his surroundings. He was in Ruth’s car, not his own. The car was stopped, not spinning. It was light outside, not dark.
And he was peeing in the seat.
Carter inhaled sharply, but was powerless to stop the ill-timed release of his bladder. Still shaking with residual adrenaline from the flashback, his muscles wouldn’t respond to his mind’s desperate pleas to stop the accident. He couldn’t so much as move his legs together; all he could do was watch helplessly as he soaked through pants, urine seeping into the fabric beneath his legs.
Ruth could do nothing but watch in astonishment as Carter Worthington, athletic god of their high school, continued to wet himself all over the seat of her car.
Head down, Carter’s breathing and heart rate finally slowed in time with the diminishing trickle in his lap. For a moment, the car was utterly silent.
Ruth let out a deep breath, releasing the worry and utter shock of the past few minutes. “Are you…”
“Fine,” Carter snapped, trying to mask his mortification.
Ruth clenched her jaw and shifted the car into drive. “Fine, then.”
Carter finally let go of his seat belt, fruitlessly trying to regain some semblance of dignity. He forced a smirk, glancing sideways at Ruth.
“I bet you’re loving this,” he sneered, forcing back a tremor in his voice. “You can add ‘nurse for the pitiful injured’ to your list of community service activities.”
At these words, Ruth slammed in the breaks, stopping before they were out of the parking lot.
“Oooooo-kay,” she hissed, squaring her shoulders. “Let’s get one thing straight.” She glowered at Carter, whose cheeks flushed with frustration and embarrassment.
“I am not enjoying one second of this,” Ruth continued venomously. “If I had my way, I wouldn’t have to so much as see the back of your head until graduation. I’m not loving having to drive you around, I’m not loving your snarky, ungrateful insults. I can’t. Fucking. Stand you,” she clipped out, punctuating each word with a pointed finger. “You’re a terrible, selfish person. I thought that having a near-death experience would have given you perspective, but no. You’re still just as much of an asshole as you were before!”
Carter grunted, but couldn’t think of a response. He was acutely aware of the weight of his mess, pressing down on his legs.
“I’m sure you have no concept of the idea of human decency, but I agreed to drive you because it’s the right fucking thing to do,” Ruth ranted. “It makes things easy on your parents, and it’s not physically any burden on me. Mentally, though…” she fumed.
“Point taken, Bindle,” Carter interrupted darkly. “Save your feminist rants for the debate team. I just want to get home.”
“Gladly,” Ruth snapped.
Both teens, unbeknownst to each other, trembled on the drive home: Ruth, with indignant frustration at Carter’s presumption, and Carter with anxious humiliation.
As she reached Carter’s house, Ruth turned into his driveway rather than stopping in front, as she had that morning.
“What are you doing?” Carter asked, mildly incredulous.
Ruth rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “I’m pulling around to the back, so you don’t have to go up the front path where everyone can see.” Her expression was annoyed, but her tone was gentler than it had been so far.
Carter flushed at the unexpected kindness as Ruth parked behind his house. He grabbed his crutches, but didn’t reach for the door. He inhaled deeply.
“I do it on purpose,” he mumbled.
Eyebrows raised, Ruth looked quizzically in his direction, glancing down at the wet stain on his pants. “You…what?”
Carter followed her gaze and his cheeks darkened even further. “No, not…” he stammered. He breathed again, trying to steady himself. “Being an asshole. I do it on purpose.”
Ruth kept her face skeptical. “So you deliberately treat people horribly?”
Carter tensed defensively. “Yes, Bindle,” he muttered.
Part of Ruth really didn’t want to let the conversation continue, but her curiosity at Carter’s admission won out. “Why?”
Carter sighed sharply, annoyed that Ruth didn’t seem to understand. “Because!” he cried, “It’s all I have left.”
Ruth rolled her eyes again at this apparent exaggeration. “You’re right, Carter. All you have in this world is your shitty attitude,” she remarked, dripping with sarcasm.
“Damnit, Ruth!” Carter snapped. Ruth blinked; it had been years since he’d used her first name.
“I lost a lot in that crash! I lost my car, I can’t play basketball, I might not be able to play baseball in the spring, which means I’m not hanging out with my teammates after school…” he trailed off, unable to keep projecting his fear as anger.
“So I hang on to, you know, how I acted before,” he went on, softly. “So I can pretend that not everything has changed. So no one treats me like everything changed. I still act like a…”
“Arrogant prick?” Ruth supplied.
“I was gonna say jerk, but thanks for the vocabulary,” Carter grumbled.
Ruth exhaled slowly, closing her eyes to gather her thoughts. Carter’s explanation made sense, but she didn’t want to get sucked into pitying a guy who treated her (and plenty of other people) like crap, no matter his excuse.
“Whatever, Carter. I can handle it.” she replied.
Carter slumped forward. He wasn’t sure what he had expected from Ruth, but he wasn’t a share-your-feelings type of guy, so he’d kind of hoped for a more sympathetic response.
“Yeah, well…” he gulped. “I’m sorry for…you know…” he looked again at the large, dark patch on his pants, blushing.
Ruth softened slightly at this partial apology. “Don’t worry about it,” she responded. “You were obviously having a flashback of some sort. I didn’t think before driving you past where you crashed. I’m sure it was just a one-time thing.”
To Ruth’s dismay, Carter shivered noticeably. He pressed his lips together, hot tears filling his eyes. “It’s…it’s not…” he whimpered shakily.
“Carter?” Under other circumstances, Ruth would have been far more skeptical of his reaction, but she didn’t think Carter was near a good enough actor to fake the trembling chin he had now. “It was just an accident…right?”
Bright red spots stood out on Carter’s pale cheeks. “I…when I was…” he took a deep breath, not entirely sure of why he was still talking.
“After I woke up in the hospital,” he began, “I wanted to prove that I was fine, that I could just go home. So one day, when my parents weren’t there, I had to…” Carter seemed unable to utter any words that directly related to urination, not with his own piss still soaked into the pants he was wearing. “I thought it would be fine, so I got up and tried to walk to the bathroom.”
Ruth didn’t interrupt; she just stared at Carter, incredulous that he was still talking.
“But I got dizzy,” Carter continued, face still red. “And I slid down against the wall.” He stopped, keeping his eyes down.
“Couldn’t…” Ruth murmured, captivated by this show of vulnerability. “Couldn’t you call one of the nurses?”
Carter shook his head slightly. “They heard me fall, but by the time they got in the room, I was already…” A tear slipped down his cheek at the humiliating memory. He cleared his throat forcefully. “So they just…waited for me to…and then helped clean me up,” he finished, trailing off into a whisper.
“Carter…” Ruth spoke softly, understanding how belittling it must feel for someone like Carter to wet himself in front of people. “I know it’s embarrassing, but the first time, you had just woken up from a terrible car crash. And this time, you weren’t even really aware. It was like a panic attack or something.” She looked at Carter earnestly. “You’re already getting better physically, and you’ll learn to deal with driving down that road. This isn’t something you have to worry about.”
Carter’s face fell even further, crumpling into near-sobs. He knew Ruth was trying to help, but she still didn’t know the whole story. In for a penny…
“I wet the bed,” he mumbled. “Almost every night since the crash.”
Ruth barely recognized the slouched, tear-stained young man sitting next to her. Maybe the crash had affected Carter more than she admitted.
“Hey,” she spoke soothingly. “Carter…” She started to reach for him, but held back.
“It’ll be OK,” she insisted. “Remember, you’re only three weeks out from a life-threatening set of injuries. You’re bound to have some psychological wounds, too, but those will heal, just like your ankle and your ribs and the cut on your face.”
Carter shrugged, unsure of how to conclude this wildly uncomfortable conversation he’d started.
Ruth sighed. “Look,” she said pointedly. “I’m not gonna pretend that I can fix this for you, or that I particularly relish the idea of helping you.”
Carter snorted. “So glad we’re having this talk, then.”
“But I understand how hard this must be for you,” Ruth continued, ignoring him. “So, in acknowledgement that you have quite enough to be dealing with for the time being, I hereby promise not to yell at you for your attitude. You can be a dick to me as much as you want, if that makes you feel better.”
It was an unconventional gift, but Carter looked up shyly. “And you…” he hesitated. “You won’t…”
Ruth’s face was a mix of exasperation and amusement. “Of course I won’t tell anyone,” she promised softly. “I’m a decent human being, remember?”
Carter tried to smile in return, but the combination of his flashbacks and his accident proved too exhausting.
He reached for the door and clambered his way out of the car. “I’ll come over later to clean…”
Ruth waved him off. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll wipe down the seat myself.”
Blushing, Carter nodded. “Thanks, Bindle.”
Positioning his backpack and crutches, he hobbled to the backdoor, drained but impatient to change out of his wet, sticky clothes.
Ruth watched him close the door, then sighed heavily as she turned the car around. She didn’t trust Carter’s gratefulness to last very long, but she intended to keep her promise of enduring any insults and attitude without complaint. It wasn’t like she expected them to become best friends after this or anything; Carter was probably going to go right back to acting like she didn’t exist, doing his best to act like this afternoon had never happened. And Ruth didn’t really mind.
Because she would always have the memory of Carter Worthington, wetting his pants, right in front of her. |
Chapter 2! I should get parts 3 and 4 (and maybe 5, if I can think of a good way to end this) up a lot faster. Thank you all so much for the positive feedback so far! Enjoy!
********************************
Carter’s phone buzzed on Friday evening. Barely glancing down, he pulled on his letterman’s jacket, grabbed his crutches, and headed toward the door.
“How late will you be?” Ruth called from the kitchen table, hunched over her homework.
“Dunno,” Carter yelled back, “Sometime after the game. I’ll probably go out with the guys.” He smirked in her direction. “Don’t worry Bindle, I won’t keep you up too late. I know you need your beauty sleep.”
Ruth refused to deign that with as response. She jumped slightly as Carter slammed the door behind him, settling the house into silence.
Carter’s parents were out of town for a conference. They hadn’t been comfortable with leaving Carter completely on his own, but the housekeeper didn’t work weekends. On Wednesday morning, Adelaide Worthington had met Ruth at the curb and asked if she’d be willing to spend the weekend with Carter.
“He doesn’t need any medical care!” Adelaide had promised urgently. “We’d just feel much better if someone was there in case, just in case! We’ll pay you, of course, and leave money for you two to order in.”
Ruth had smiled benevolently; of course she would stay with Carter. It would be no trouble at all. And really, living next door meant that she could always run home if she needed anything, and she knew that Carter would want to avoid her as much as she did him.
Sure enough, Carter hadn’t looked pleased at all when Ruth walked through the door on Friday afternoon with her overnight bag.
“Ash is picking me up at 6 to go to the game,” he’d scowled, turning away before Ruth was even across the threshold.
“That’s fine,” Ruth responded with a closed-lipped smile. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”
Carter’s lip curled at her blatantly condescending tone, but he didn’t reply. In fact, neither of them spoke another word until Carter walked out the door.
Now, as he hobbled into the school gym, Carter felt himself relax. This was where he belonged: with his friends and teammates at the basketball game on a Friday night. He couldn’t play, of course, but the team had arranged for him to walk out and sit on the bench for his first game out of the hospital since the crash. He couldn’t play, obviously, but he wore his jersey and warm-up pants over his cast.
Sitting in the locker room, Carter watched as his teammates bounced around him, psyching themselves up for the game. The coach walked through the door and signaled for everyone to calm down.
“Tonight’s a special night!” Coach barked. “We have one of our own back with us. Carter,” Coach placed his hand on Carter’s shoulder, “it’s damn good to have you in the locker room again, son. I know I speak for everyone in here when I say that this team just didn’t feel whole without you.”
Carter tried to look cool, but he was genuinely touched to see the nods of affirmation from his teammates.
“Since it’s a home game,” Wes, Carter’s co-captain, began, “we thought you could lead us out onto the court, man.”
With a slight smile, Carter nodded confidently. “Yeah, bro. Let’s do this.”
The team whooped as Carter hauled himself to his feet and hobbled toward the locker room door. He could hear the team’s entrance track playing over the gym speakers and couldn’t help but grin. His adrenaline was pumping, and he rocked back and forth on his crutches, raring to enter the gym.
The chorus of the entrance track started, the cheerleaders pulled open the doors, and Carter led his team through with a roar, relishing the cheers and applause from the crowd.
The game began, and Carter settled onto the bench to watch his teammates. As he sat down and the adrenaline subsided a bit, however, he noticed a slight fullness in his bladder. He shifted with annoyance at the realization, but the games rarely last over 90 minutes; he’d be fine.
It was an odd feeling for Carter, watching the game from the bench. He’d been a starter, playing more minutes than anyone else on the team. If Coach did pull him out, it was never for long. Now, as good as it felt to be back at a game, Carter couldn’t shake a niggling sense of wrongness, as if sitting on the bench just emphasized his brokenness.
At halftime, the home team was up by 4 in a tight game. Hobbling to the locker room with the team, Carter winced at the jostling to his bladder. Sitting was fine, though, so as soon as he settled himself on the bench to listen to Coach’s midgame adjustments, he was able to relax a bit.
The rest of the game was close and exciting. Carter found himself wrapped up in the action, screaming encouragement to his teammates, calling out suggestions to the ones on the bench. When Wes drained a last-second 3-pointer to win, the gym erupted with elation, and for a moment, Carter completely forgot about the crash, his broken bones, and his now nearly-full bladder.
The excitement-enhanced amnesia didn’t last for long, however, and by the time the team jubilantly headed back to the locker room, Carter had to actively clench his pelvic muscles. In the locker room, he barely acknowledged the cheers and high-fives of his teammates as he made his was across to the toilet stall.
Pathetically grateful to finally be able to pee, Carter hobbled into the lone cubicle, slamming the door indelicately behind him. The pressure in his bladder spiked, and he reached down over his crutches to grasp himself. Without the grip of his hand, the crutch slipped, falling forward. Reflexively, Carter reached out for it, but the stretch sent an agonizing jolt through his broken ribs.
Stunned by the pain, Carter momentarily lost control of his bladder. A long, warm spurt leaked into his briefs, soaking a significant wet patch through the crotch.
Carter gasped and clenched his sphincter to stop the flow. He felt an uncomfortable trickle down his left leg (thankfully, not the broken one). Tensing tightly, Carter let his other crutch clatter to the floor. With one hand, he gripped the stability bar on the wall, and yanked down his pants and underwear with the other. Losing his balance, he practically crashed down onto the toilet, barely making it over the bowl before he started going again.
Head hanging, Carter tried to catch his breath. He gingerly grabbed his warm-up pants and was exceedingly grateful to see that no wetness was visible. His underwear was another story, though. The material was soaked through, with the wetness leeching up the front and back.
Carter started to shake as he tried to consider his options. He couldn’t just take off his briefs; he had nowhere to put them, and he couldn’t risk taking them out to the trash where all his teammates might see. If he put them back on, he risked the stain soaking through to his light-blue pants. His briefs obviously weren’t going to dry any time soon.
Defeated, Carter reached for his phone.
“Can u come get me”
Back at the Worthington’s, Ruth jumped slightly when her phone buzzed. Seeing the text from Carter set her mind racing.
“I thought you were going out with the guys after the game.”
Still sitting in the stall, Carter cringed at Ruth’s response. She was his only hope.
“I’ll b at the back entrance in 10”
Ruth inhaled deeply. Why would Carter want her to come get him? Was he hurt? Why wouldn’t he want to hang out with his friends? What possible situation could have arisen that made her look like the preferable option?
“Fine.” she texted back, already grabbing her coat. An unlikely, intrusive thought entered her head. What if…what if Carter had wet himself again? Is that why he wasn’t staying with his friends, asking her to meet at the back entrance of the school? Ruth felt a strange sensation deep in her abdomen as she headed out to the car.
Back in the locker room bathroom, Carter let out a relieved breath upon receiving Ruth’s response. Grimacing at the cooling, damp material, he pulled his underwear back on, carefully arranging his pants to minimize contact with the wetness. He grabbed his crutches, straightened his shoulders, and opened the stall door.
“Dude!” called Asher, the junior shooting guard, grinning with residual excitement from the win. “We thought you drowned in there!”
With a practiced smirk, Carter hobbled back out into the locker room. “You try wetting with one good leg and three broken ribs,” he shot back. “Some of us actually care about making it into the bowl!”
The team laughed, and the matter was dropped. “You coming to Barkley’s with us?” Wes asked.
Carter’s stomach clenched as he prepared the lie. “Nah,” he answered in an easy tone, “Bindle’s demanding my presence back home. She probably thinks we’re gonna spend all weekend hanging out together!”
“Blow her off!” Wes cried. “One of us will take you home later.”
“I wish,” Carter was prepared for that response. “You know she’s the type who would literally lock me out of my own house if I don’t do what she says.”
The guys responded with generally disparaging noises, but no one really argued. It briefly occurred to Carter that maybe they were relieved not to have to be slowed down by his injuries all night.
“Another time, man,” Wes said, patting Carter’s shoulder. “When you’re not being monitored by Ruth-zilla!”
Then, with barely another word, the locker room slowly emptied out, the guys all heading off in different directions. Carter tried to block out the excited chatter about their respective plans for the night as he hopped toward the back entrance.
He looked out at the near-deserted parking lot and let out a decidedly uncool sigh of relief when he saw Ruth’s car pull up to the sidewalk.
“I’m not your chauffeur, you know,” Ruth derided as Carter clambered into the passenger seat.
“Jesus, Bindle, relax,” Carter sneered, slipping easily into the role of antagonist. Anything to take his mind off the cool stickiness pressing against his groin. “I thought I was being nice. Damn. Coming home early so you wouldn’t have to stay up late waiting for me or anything.”
Ruth refused to consider that’s what had actually happened. “I’m touched by your concern,” she deadpanned. “Your selflessness astounds me.”
Carter snorted, but didn’t respond. The sooner he got home and up to his own room, the better.
Out of the corner of her eye, Ruth saw Carter squirm in his seat. The movement was unconscious; Carter was really trying his best to sit still, but the discomfort of his clammy underwear resulted in minor shifting.
Ruth swallowed a gasp. She tried to tell herself that it was highly unlikely that Carter had actually had another accident, but she couldn’t help but imagine that he was writhing against pee-soaked pants…
They completed the rest of the ride home in characteristic silence. Carter knew that his wet underwear were pressed against the seat of his pants. He could only hope that the wetness didn’t leak through too much before he got home.
When Ruth parked in Carter’s driveway, he grabbed his crutches and slid out of the car, awkwardly trying to keep his back facing away from Ruth. He deliberately stayed behind her as they entered the house.
“Will you be needing anything else?” Ruth asked with mock casualty, setting her purse down on the counter. “You know I’m here to help with anything you need.”
“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” Carter muttered, “but I’m just going up to my room.”
As Carter turned to leave, Ruth’s breath caught in her throat; there was a small but unmistakable wet stain peeking out on the back of Carter’s pants.
“You did wet your pants!” she gasped.
Carter froze. “I…what? No!”
“Carter,” Ruth began, drawing in a big breath and doing her best to look authoritative. Her face was calm, but her heart was racing at the prospect of Carter wetting himself again. Seizing onto his hesitation, she pushed for more information. “What happened? Did you have another flashback? You shouldn’t have driven by the crash site, so what was the trigger? If this is something that’s happening regularly…”
“I didn’t…no…it’s not…” Carter stammered helplessly. He was totally unprepared to defend himself against Ruth’s observation.
“Has this happened other times?” Ruth went on. “Is there a potential physical cause? Did the doctor’s say anything about incontinence?”
“I’m not incontinent!” Carter cried, blushing furiously.
Ruth tilted her head condescendingly. “So that’s not urine on your pants?”
“It’s…I just…”
“Carter,” Ruth cooed, “it’s okay! You’re still healing, and tonight was your first night out. It’s not surprising that you had an accident.”
“I didn’t pee my pants!” Carter exclaimed frantically, choking out the words.
Ruth raised her eyebrows like a preschool teacher catching a 3-year-old in a lie. She didn’t say anything.
“I just…” Carter’s face was crimson. “…leaked.”
Her stomach fluttered at the admission, but Ruth kept her face neutral. “I see. Do you still need to go now?”
“No!” Carter huffed petulantly, glaring.
“Fine,” Ruth said, still sounding very school-marm-ish. She didn’t want to let the conversation go, though, so she switched tactics. “Will you need any help changing your sheets?”
“What?!” Carter couldn’t believe how this evening had gone downhill. All he wanted was to go to his room and forget it ever happened.
“Honestly, Carter,” Ruth sighed, shaking her head, “you already told me that you wet the bed. I figured changing the sheets might be hard on crutches.”
Carter had nearly forgotten sharing that particular piece of information. Stupid, stupid! “No.”
“No?” Ruth repeated innocently. “You don’t need my help? You can change the sheets yourself?”
“I don’t…” Carter was stammering again. “I don’t change the sheets…”
“You can’t sleep in wet sheets,” Ruth declared. “That’s so unsani...”
“Stop it, Bindle!” Carter clenched his fists, desperate to regain an ounce of dignity and get out of this conversation.
Ruth snapped her mouth shut, but stared intensely, as if challenging Carter to say something worthy of her silence.
Carter closed his eyes for a moment, trying to catch his breath and decide what to say next. “Can you…” He really, really didn’t want to have to share any more of his humiliating medical information with her. “Can you just let it go?”
Ruth inhaled deeply, preparing to respond, but Carter cut her off. “Bindle, give it a rest.” He was angry, embarrassed, and still uncomfortable with the damp fabric of his underwear pressing against his skin. “I know my parents are paying you to be here, but you’re not my nurse.”
Ruth flinched at the mention of payment, and Carter was emboldened by her hesitation. “You’re just here to make my parents feel comfortable about leaving. You can tell yourself whatever you need to make you feel better about your sad, loser life, but I don’t need you.”
“I guess you would’ve just found another way home, then,” Ruth sneered. “With wet pants,” she added viciously.
Carter’s eyes darkened. “Fuck off, Bindle.”
And with that, he turned and hobbled up the stairs to his room. Ruth watched him go, trying not to stare at the wet spot on his pants. |
Short chapter this week. I contemplated adding the next scene, but I decided that scene worked better with the next chapter, which I hope to post next weekend. As always, thank you all so much for your comments and views!
*******************
Carter stormed into his room, but didn’t slam the door, oddly cognizant of not giving Bindle another example of childishness. Shaking, he started the protracted process of taking a shower.
In the bathroom, Carter grimaced as he peeled down his wet underwear. He struggled with the waterproof cover for his cast before settling himself on the plastic stool his parents had placed in his shower. Turning the temperature up to scalding, he set about scrubbing away the horror of the evening.
Back downstairs, Ruth tried to keep her hands from shaking as she gathered her homework and made her way into the guest bedroom. She sat on the edge of the bed for a moment, trying to gather her thoughts.
What was it about seeing Carter with wet pants? She couldn’t stop thinking about his accident in her car on Monday and imagining the events of tonight that led to him “leaking,” as he had put it. Had he resorted to holding himself? Had he leaked a little bit over time, or was it one, big spurt? Unconsciously, Ruth began writhing on the bed, gently grinding her hips into the mattress, imagining Carter squirming with desperation on the bleachers.
Ruth’s breath caught and her eyes flew open. Blushing, she furtively looked toward the bedroom door. It was open, but she could still hear the shower running upstairs. With a deep breath, she stood up, posture overly straight, and closed the door gently, promising herself that she wouldn’t think about Carter wetting himself anymore tonight.
Upstairs, Carter reached to turn off the shower. His skin was red from the heat, and steam filled the bathroom, but he felt a bit better. He grabbed his towel and dried off as best he could before hauling himself to his feet.
In his room, Carter scowled as he pulled the white, plastic bag out from under his bed. After two wet nights in a row in the hospital, the nurses had started putting him in protection at night. Though he made remarkably progress in those three weeks, he still couldn’t stay dry in his sleep by the time he was otherwise ready to go home. So, in addition to the medications, crutches, and directions for care, the nurses had handed his parents a big, humiliating package of diapers (“Nighttime briefs,” the nurse had called them, like that made it any better).
Carter carefully pulled a diaper out of the plastic packaging and slid it over his legs. He knew his door was closed and locked, but wearing a pull-up felt fundamentally different, knowing his sanctimonious classmate was in the house. It was barely 10 o’clock, so he wasn’t ready to sleep just yet, but he knew he wasn’t going to leave his room, and, if he was being honest, he was still unnerved from his near-miss in the locker room.
Under normal circumstances, he would go to the basement to watch TV or play video games, but Carter didn’t feel like risking running into Bindle again. Instead, he pulled out his iPad and climbed into bed to watch movies. He tried to ignore the soft crinkling of his diaper.
***********
The car was skidding…He turned the wheel and slammed on the breaks, but the car started to spin…He could hear the tires squealing…The car was hurtling toward the utility pole…
Carter sat bolt upright in bed, shocking himself out of the nightmare. His heart was racing, low whines escaping his throat.
In the next moment, he realized that he was peeing into his pull-up. Just as he started to submit to the humiliation of using a diaper as a senior in high school, another feeling struck him: a warm feeling of wetness on his thighs.
Startled, Carter clenched his muscles to stop the flow of urine. Timidly, he reached down between his legs, moaning quietly at the discovery.
His diaper was totally saturated. Noting the uncomfortable fullness of his bladder, Carter realized that he must have wet himself earlier in the night. (In reality, he’d fallen asleep without going to the bathroom. Not only had he wet completely once, he’d leaked several times throughout the night.)
He was tired. He was so tired, and scared from his nightmare. His bedside clock read 3:42 AM. Carter carefully felt around the edges of the brief; there were wet spots on both thighs of his pajama pants, and his sheets were already damp.
In the darkness of his room, Carter flushed deeply and hung his head. Not only was he still peeing in his sleep, but he had somehow managed to literally wet the bed, despite wearing a diaper.
His hand still between his legs, Carter became aware of the fact that he was wetting again. His tired muscles weren’t tensed enough to completely hold back the flow, and a small trickle was making its way down his groin.
Carter’s face crumpled. Already mentally and emotionally defeated, he gave up. His body sagged pitifully on the bed as he released the struggling hold on his bladder.
Urine poured out both sides of the overfull protective garment, soaking dark pathway down his thighs and pooling on the sheets underneath him.
A single tear crept down Carter’s cheek. The events of the past week assaulted his mind: he’d pissed himself in front of Bindle, he’d leaked in his pants before making it to the bathroom after the game, and now, maybe worst of all, he was kind-of, sort-of on-purpose peeing in bed. Awake. Fully conscious. Going to the bathroom, but sitting in bed.
Carter drew in a shaky, noisy breath as he waited for his accident to finish. Sniffling, he wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand, blinking away more tears.
After far too long (seriously, how could he have to go so much in one night??), his bladder was finally empty. The wetness stretched to his knees, and the stain spread out beneath him.
Head down, Carter pulled himself off the bed. He grabbed his crutches and hobbled to the bathroom to get cleaned up.
The dim safety light illuminated the extent of his accident; the entire top half of his pants was soaked, as was the bottom of his t-shirt. Carter’s jaw trembled as he carefully stripped off his clothes, grabbing the vanity for balance.
Now naked, he made his way over to the shower. Slowly, he turned on the faucet, careful to make as little noise as possible, and ran his washcloth under the tap. He was too tired to take a full shower, and the last thing he wanted was to wake Bindle, so he just ran the damp washcloth over his legs and crotch, trying to wipe away the stickiness.
Carter left his soaked clothes on the floor of the bathroom. Hobbling back to his bed, he took stock of the damage. He knew he didn’t have the energy to change the sheets, much less the focus to do it quietly, but the wet spot was too big to sleep around. His parents had fitted a waterproof sheet on his bed before he'd returned from the hospital, so at least he didn't have to worry about ruining the mattress.
Sighing, Carter snatched his pillow and the thankfully-dry duvet and dragged them to the floor. Awkwardly but gently, he lowered himself onto the carpet and curled up on his side. He closed his eyes and tried to calm down.
But he didn’t sleep a wink for the rest of the night. |
Next chapter! I finished this one a few hours earlier than expected. I always post as soon as I finish writing (as you can probably tell by the fairly blatant typos I miss!), so here you go :) The next chapter - next weekend, probably - will be the last. Thank you all for following this story! Happy Halloween!
****************************************************************************
Soon after the late-winter sun rose, Carter finally pushed himself off the floor, shivering a bit as the duvet slipped off his shoulders. He rubbed his eyes, despite not sleeping since his diaper started to leak. He hadn’t bothered putting on clean clothes or another pull-up (a bit stupid, considering how much he’d wet during the night so far), so he first threw on some sweats and a tee before peeling the soiled sheets off his bed.
It took him several minutes to gather his wet sheets and clothes together. He stared at the dirty pile for a few moments, trying to decide how to get the items downstairs to the laundry room without waking Bindle. Ultimately, he decided to stuff the pile into his laundry bag, which he then hoisted over his shoulder by the straps.
With the bag full of urine-soaked fabric hanging uncomfortably, Carter carefully made his way down the stairs. He glanced nervously toward the guest bedroom door, but it was still closed. Momentarily relieved, he hopped quietly toward the laundry room.
Bleary-eyed, Carter lifted the washing machine lid and started pulling his sheets out of the bag.
“What are you doing?”
Stunned Carter turned, off-balance, bumping into the washing machine to steady himself. The lid slammed down with a clang that reverberated through the quiet house.
Bindle stood in the door of the laundry room, a slight sheen of sweat on her face, her hair tied back in a bandanna.
“What…I didn’t know you were awake,” Carter mumbled, hoping against hope that he could think of somehow to talk himself out of this.
“I like to do Pilates first thing in the morning to get my day started,” Ruth replied haughtily. “What are you doing?”
“Laundry,” Carter muttered bluntly.
Ruth had her hands on her hips. “I thought you said you didn’t change your sheets,” she hissed, accusingly.
Tired and shaken, Carter struggled to compose himself in the face of Bindle’s haughty stare. “I don’t-“
“Carter, honestly,” Ruth interrupted. “What were you thinking? You could have hurt yourself, trying to change your sheets on crutches.” She pursed her lips and shook her head in disapproval. “I don’t know why you would lie to me about needing help, especially since I already know that you have trouble in your sleep.”
Carter clenched his jaw at her condescending euphemism. “I didn’t lie.”
“Carter!” Ruth’s face was a mask of exaggerated astonishment. “You just said last night that you didn’t need help because you, and I quote, don’t change your sheets. Yet here you are, putting clearly wet sheets in the washing machine.”
Carter opened his mouth, but Ruth kept talking.
“It’s okay,” she emphasized, her accusing face melting into a seemingly gentle expression. “Nocturnal enuresis is nothing to be ashamed of, especially not in your condition.”
“Noc…what? What are you even talking about?” Carter’s sleep-deprived head hurt.
“Nocturnal. Enuresis.” Ruth repeated. “It’s the medical term for bedwetting. Which is what you have: a medical condition.” Ruth shook her head again. “I wish you hadn’t lied to me, Carter. I’m here to make sure you’re safe, and I can’t do that if you won’t let me!”
Carter frowned. At the moment, he wanted nothing more than for her to leave him alone to finish putting his sheets in the washer.
But Ruth wasn’t done. “I suppose I’ll just have to come up to you tomorrow morning, to help you change tonight’s wet sheets, since you won’t tell me when you need help.”
“Jesus, Bindle!” Carter’s voice cracked with fatigue. His lip curled in disgust. “You get off on this, don’t you?”
Ruth froze at the too-close-to-home accusation. Could he really tell?
“I mean, really, you just keeping going on about helping and using all these medical terms like I’m a fucking patient or a kid at a daycare or something,” Spots of color appeared on Carter’s cheeks, standing out against the dark circles under his eyes. “You point out other people’s weaknesses and problems, but it’s more than that. You have to act like you’re all wanting to help fix their problems…my problems…so everyone knows how goddamn nice you are!”
“Carter… “ Now Ruth was the one who was flustered. “I see that this is difficult for you…”
Nearly dizzy from exhaustion, Carter was in no position to exhibit restraint. Or good sense. Or any type of emotional control at all. “You want me to tell you everything about my medical condition?” He was practically spitting. “I wasn’t lying. I haven’t been changing the sheets, and it’s not because I’m unsanitary,” he growled before Bindle could object. “It’s because I wear diapers. The hospital sent me home with fucking diapers because I kept wetting the bed.”
Ruth swallowed hard, trying to keep her face neutral, but not really succeeding. Her heart pounded recklessly.
“Obviously, I had too much to drink last night,” Carter continued, his voice dripping with bitterness, “because the diaper…couldn’t hold it all.” Carter paused, swallowing an unexpected lump in his throat. “So…that’s why I’m changing the sheets. I usually don’t have to,” he finished, a bit lamely.
Ruth’s mouth had run dry. The mental image of Carter in diapers – not only wearing them, but using them so much, they leaked – was almost too much to process.
Carter had turned back to the washing machine and was forcefully throwing his sheets inside.
“Well,” Ruth straightened, trying to maintain composure, “thank you for telling me the truth. I’d appreciate it if you let me help in the future, instead of trying to change the sheets yourself.”
Carter snorted.
Choosing not to push him any further, Ruth turned to go. “I’ll just start making breakfast for us.”
Carter threw down the washing machine lid, making Ruth jump at the noise. “No, Bindle, I’m not going to sit down for a Saturday break fast with you,” he snapped. “I’m going to spend the rest of the weekend pretending you’re not here.”
He pressed the start button on the washing machine, then elbowed his way out of the room, past a stunned Bindle. “If I piss myself again, I’ll be sure to call you. I wouldn’t want you to miss out on ‘helping’ me.”
With his back to her, Ruth couldn’t see Carter’s lip tremble slightly as he hopped away. She cringed and shook her head, trying to force herself out of her stunned haze. Carter’s reasoning may not have been 100% accurate, but it looked like she’d gone a bit far in paying attention to his accidents.
Deliberately keeping her face blank, Ruth walked to the kitchen to make herself breakfast.
Meanwhile, Carter had holed himself in the basement. He had his gaming system and a mini fridge, so he wouldn’t have to bother going upstairs to get food from the kitchen. Dehydrated from his numerous nighttime wettings, he opened a bottle of water and guzzled it down at he turned on the TV, settling into his well-worn recliner.
It felt good to shoot zombies; not only did it help him get out some latent aggression, but it served as a highly effective form of escapism. Soon enough, he’d all but forgotten that Bindle was even in the house. He mindlessly grabbed another water bottle and a bag of chips.
After a couple of hours, Carter struggled to focus. He hadn’t gotten much sleep, after all, and he started making lazy mistakes. Mildly frustrated, he saved the game and switched to watching a movie. It wasn’t long, though, before his head began to droop and the TV screen blurred in front of him.
**************
“Carter! CARTER!!”
With a scream, Carter was yanked out of the nightmare by Bindle’s voice; she was shaking his shoulders frantically.
Carter was choking, sobbing. Still not fully awake, he started to pee through his pants. Or maybe he had already been peeing. He couldn’t tell; he just felt the warm liquid soaking into his sweats, mirrored by the tears running down his face.
“Carter…” Ruth’s face was flushed. “You were…you were screaming…” she said breathlessly. She’d sprinted down the stairs the second she’d heard Carter’s panicked cries. She’d found him flailing in the chair, apparently caught in the throes of a terrible dream. Without thinking of the potential dangers of pulling someone from a nightmare, she’d instantly grabbed him to shake him awake.
Carter couldn’t stop crying, and he was still wetting. He didn’t have the energy to try to hold it in. “Stop,” he whispered huskily.
“You can’t…” Ruth stammered, shaken. This wasn’t attractive; this was horrifying. Carter was pale and sweaty. He looked genuinely terrified. This time, it didn’t matter that he had a wet stain growing from his crotch. “What can I-“
“Go!” Carter interrupted beseechingly. “Please…” He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t force out more than one word at a time. He couldn’t control anything: not the tears streaming down his cheeks, not the growing patch of dampness creeping across his lap.
“I-“ Ruth started, but she was stopped by a pained whimper from Carter. “I’ll be upstairs,” she murmured. She looked back for one more glance at the blubbering teen before scampering up the stairs.
Alone, Carter crumpled forward in his chair. He felt urine seep into the fabric beneath him, and he whined softly. He was practically dizzy with exhaustion and residual terror; almost entirely separate from the fact that he was wetting through his pants, he felt small and childlike. This most recent nightmare had been painfully real, and his muscles were still tensed, as if bracing himself for the impact of the crash.
Upstairs, Ruth wiped a tear from her eye. Carter wasn’t just dealing with your everyday healing process; something was really wrong with him. She couldn’t get any enjoyment out of seeing him pee himself when he looked so lost and horrified. Ruth dropped her head into her hands. She really didn’t know what to do.
In the basement, Carter shuddered as his accident slowed to a trickle. He didn’t know what was worse – being subjected to the terror of reliving his crash every time he slept, or completely wetting himself in front of Bindle yet again. This time, while sobbing like a child.
His bladder empty, Carter shamefully stared down at the huge, dark stain weighing on his lap. His chest caved in, and he started to weep. He couldn’t handle this. He couldn’t keep doing this. He knew he had to clean himself up, clean his recliner, and, if he wanted to sleep anymore (the thought made him cry even harder), put on a diaper. But he couldn’t move.
He’d have to clean up later. For now, Carter wrapped his arms around himself, curled up in the wet chair, and cried. |
Last chapter! Last chapters are weird :/ I never meant for this to be a multi-part thing anyway, but I'm so very grateful for all your comments. You're all the greatest!!
********************
Carter didn’t know how long he cried. He would have stayed curled up in his chair all day, but eventually, his wet pants started to chafe and itch against his legs.
Sniffling, Carter dragged himself to his feet, wiping his eyes and nose on his sleeve. As he situated his crutches, he glanced at the recliner. The urine stain covered almost the entire seat, eliciting a short whimper from Carter at the thought of cleaning it up.
Ruth peeked out the door of the guest bedroom when she heard the basement door open. Carter looked terrible – red eyes, streaked cheeks, and pants drenched well past the knees. Ruth bit her lip, but didn’t move to help.
With his head down and eyes still teary, Carter didn’t notice Ruth’s gaze. He was too dazed to see much of anything as he made his way up to his bathroom.
For the second time that morning, Carter peeled off his wet clothes and let them flop onto the tile floor. He turned on the shower and adjusted the slipcover over his cast.
In the shower, Carter slumped against the wall on his stool. Bindle hadn’t even been at his house for a full day, and he already had 3 urine-stained pairs of pants. All he wanted at this point was to make it until his parents got home without any more accidents. Without having to interact with Bindle at all, really.
Drained and humiliated, Carter let the hot water wash over him. Sighing deeply, he relaxed a little and released his bladder. Dejectedly, he watched as the thin, yellow stream dissolved toward the drain. He absentmindedly tried to think of the last time he’d actually peed in a toilet.
It was still morning when Carter turned off the shower. He was tired and he didn’t feel like leaving his room. He didn’t feel like doing much of anything, but then he thought of the stained recliner in the basement. Sluggishly, he pulled on some clothes and hobbled downstairs.
Carter hopped toward the laundry room to grab some cleaning supplies. As he turned the corner, he saw Bindle closing the laundry room door behind as she walked out.
“Oh!” Ruth hadn’t expected to see Carter for the rest of the day. “Are…do you need something?”
Too tired to even glare and more than a little embarrassed, Carter wouldn’t meet her eye. “No,” he muttered, moving to pass her.
Ruth stepped out of the way, not wanting to upset him any more. “I just cleaned your chair,” she said quietly. “It’s all done.”
Carter stopped, his hand still on the doorknob. He hadn’t been looking forward to scrubbing the recliner, but the thought of Bindle cleaning up after him – again – wasn’t any better. “I was gonna do it,” he rasped, still not looking at her.
“Carter…” Carter twitched at the way she said his name. It was simultaneously concerned and condescending. “You know it was easier for me to do it.”
Carter’s face twisted into an infuriated leer. “Go fuck yourself.” he growled.
Ruth bristled. “Carter! I’m just trying-“
Carter was already hobbling back toward the stairs. “Shut up, Bindle,” he snapped over her. “I’m so sick of your fake bullshit, I could puke.”
“You can’t just pretend this isn’t happening!” Ruth called to his retreating form, but Carter ignored her and continued back upstairs.
In his room, Carter shook with misplaced anger that quickly crumbled into discomfort and self-pity. What was he going to do if Bindle decided to tell people about his numerous accidents, all under the guise of “helping”?
Carter collapsed on his bed, letting his crutches fall with a clatter. Maybe he could just sleep away the rest of the weekend…
Of course, he couldn’t do that. Not without preparation, anyway. Dully, Carter reached for his bag of diapers and pulled out a clean brief.
Safely wrapped in absorbent padding, Carter finally let himself curl up under the duvet. He hadn’t put on clean sheets, so the waterproof pad crinkled a bit underneath him. He was too tired to care, though, and soon drifted off to sleep.
***
It was well past 3 by the time Carter woke up. For once, his pull-up was dry, a fact that bolstered Carter’s spirit. He hopped to the bathroom on one foot, not bothering with his crutches. He settled himself on the toilet and ripped off his diaper while he peed. The simple act of using the bathroom properly calmed Carter and made him feel more like himself.
For the rest of the evening, Carter felt almost normal. He stayed in his room for the most part, only venturing downstairs to answer the door for the Chinese food he’d ordered.
“I don’t suppose you ordered me any?” Ruth asked haughtily as Carter payed the delivery boy. Carter ignored her and promptly went back to his room.
Ruth shook her head as she watched Carter ascend the stairs. Regardless of how childish he was being, she knew she couldn’t just let the events of the week go.
***
The following morning, Carter managed to sleep late. He’d still had the same flashback nightmare, but it hadn’t been intense enough to wake him up. Or he’d just been too tired to be bothered.
He disposed of his diaper (wet, but at least not overflowing) and hopped downstairs to grab something to eat.
“Good morning.”
Carter hesitated at Bindle’s greeting. She was sitting at the kitchen table, clutching a coffee mug in both hands. Carter rolled his eyes and turned to the fridge.
“Did you sleep well?” Ruth tried again.
Gazing into the refrigerator, Carter felt his jaw clench. “None of your damn business, Bindle.”
Ruth didn’t have a whole lot of patience to begin with, and she decided not to waste any more of it. “If you want to insist on refusing my help when you wet yourself,” she sneered cuttingly, “I can’t really do anything about it.”
Carter blushed, but kept his gaze facing the shelves of food.
“However,” Ruth went on, “I have an obligation to tell you parents about your condition.”
The door rattled as Carter straightened and turned around. “Don’t,” he grunted. “It’s none of your business.”
Ruth pinched her face into a look of mock confusion. “Of course it is, Carter. As you so astutely pointed out on Friday, I’m being paid to take care of you. Like any good babysitter,” she emphasized sweetly, “I have to report to your parents what went on.”
“I’ll handle it, Bindle,” Carter’s face was slightly pale.
“You’ve given me no reason to trust you on that, Carter,” Ruth simpered. “I have to make sure you parents are properly informed, so they can appropriately take care of the situation.”
Carter glared. Oddly, he looked angrier than he had all weekend. “I can see how much you love talking about me, Bindle,” he hissed, his voice low and deliberate, “but I. Will. Handle. It.”
Ruth shrugged innocently. “I simply don’t believe you.”
“I don’t care what you think of me, Bindle,” Carter scowled. “Back off.”
Ruth didn’t have any more to say, and Carter wouldn’t have listened, anyway. He was already storming down to the basement.
Dropping onto the couch (he didn’t particularly feel like going back to his recliner), Carter frowned. Realistically, there was no way he could actually stop Bindle from saying whatever she wanted to his parents. He just hoped he could downplay whatever demeaning description she came up with.
Grabbing a snack from the mini fridge, Carter flipped on the TV and waited for the sound of his parents coming home.
***
Early in the evening, well before Carter expected his parents, he heard voices upstairs. Quickly as he could, he snatched his crutches and hobbled upstairs.
He saw his mom standing with Bindle in the kitchen, apparently in the middle of a conversation that they halted as soon as he’d appeared.
“Hi, sweetheart!” Adelaide reached up to hug her son.
Carter bent down to allow the hug, looking warily at Bindle over his mom’s shoulder. “Hey, mom. Didn’t think you’d be back this early.”
Adelaide gestured dismissively. “They asked your father to stay for an executive session tomorrow, so I just caught an earlier flight.” She glanced questioningly at Ruth, who was fidgeting anxiously. “Did you two have a good weekend?”
“Fine,” Carter snipped, just as Ruth said “Not really.”
Adelaide raised her eyebrows at her son. “Carter?”
“It was fine, mom,” Carter said bracingly. “Bin-Ruth just worries too much.”
Ruth inhaled, unsure of how to proceed.
“And just what is she worrying about?” Adelaide asked calmly.
“Noth-“
“I think Carter is having some psychological repercussion from his crash, Mrs. Worthington,” Ruth spit out before Carter could finish.
Lines of concern appeared on Adelaide’s forehead. “Repercussions? What kind?”
“Mom…” Carter was starting to sweat. “It’s nothing…”
Encouraged by Mrs. Worthington’s curious response, Ruth stood up a little straighter. “Yesterday, he fell asleep downstairs and he started screaming.”
The lines on Adelaide’s forehead deepened. “Honey?” She turned toward Carter. “Is that true?”
“It was just a nightmare, mom” Carter tried to explain, a bit frantically. “It was just onc-“
“He had an accident, too” Ruth interrupted, talking over Carter.
“He what?” Adelaide’s shoulder drooped in shock.
“Bindle…” Carter grumbled, staring daggers at his classmate.
Ruth glared back, determined to tell Adelaide all the details. “It’s not just the nightmare. Carter’s been having bladder trouble, at least all week.”
Carter groaned softly and closed his eyes. Adelaide’s eyes, on the other hand, widened anxiously. “He what?” she said again, softly.
“He…” Ruth paused. Confronting Carter about his accidents was very different than informing his concerned mother. “He…when he had a nightmare in the basement, he didn’t just wake up screaming. He wet himself.”
Adelaide’s eyes shone with worry. “Carter? Is that true?”
“It wasn’t a big deal, Mom,” Carter whispered, gazing at her beseechingly.
“It was,” Ruth interjected. “It was a pretty big accident. And it wasn’t the first time.” Ruth took a deep breath, met by the Carter’s glare and Adelaide’s apprehensive stare.
“A similar thing happened on Monday,” Ruth continued, speaking quickly. “On the way home from school, I wasn’t thinking, and I drove past the site of Carter’s crash. He had a kind of panic attack, and he wet himself then, too.”
Carter closed his eyes again, unable to look at his mother as she listened to Bindle’s stories.
“These weren’t just, like, little accidents,” Ruth went on, a bit uncomfortable now. “He…it was like his bladder completely emptied, and he had no control. And I know he’s been wetting the bed, but Friday night, he…he went so much that his…his protective garments leaked and he had to wash his sheets.”
Adelaide was staring at her teenage son, her face etched with sadness.
“Oh, and something happened at the basketball game on Friday, because his pants were a little wet when he came home,” Ruth added, a bit needlessly.
“Carter?” Adelaide whispered, pleadingly looking at her son.
Carter opened his eyes and flinched at the pained look on his mom’s face. “It was just…a stressful first week back,” he murmured.
“Carter William,” Adelaide admonished sternly but gently, “Tell the truth.”
Carter looked pleadingly at his mom. Ruth stood to the side, suddenly aware that this was not going how she anticipated. Instead of succinctly putting Carter in his place, she was now caught watching an increasingly emotional scene between mother and son, with no tactful way out. She was still sure she’d done the right thing in exposing Carter to his mother, but she’d pictured a brisk explanation, Adelaide thanking her, and Carter bumbling through some lame excuses. She had definitely not anticipated Adelaide’s level of concern for her son, or Carter’s loving deference to his mom.
Carter sighed. He didn’t want to lie to his mom, but telling his side of the story wasn’t any more appealing of an idea.
“Sweetheart,” Adelaide said quietly, “tell me what’s going on.”
Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Carter gripped his crutches tight and started to speak. “Everything she said is true,” he admitted reluctantly. “I did...wet myself in her car, and downstairs in the recliner, and in bed on Friday night.” He flushed deeply at this admission, but kept talking. “I have been having nightmares. A nightmare, really. I keep dreaming about the crash.”
“Oh, honey,” Adelaide breathed. She hadn’t know that her son had been reliving that night over and over.
“I keep seeing myself in the car,” Carter continued, keeping his eyes fixed on a spot on the floor. “Spinning out, crashing into the pole…” He inhaled shakily, knowing that he had yet to share the most important part of the tale. He blinked rapidly to keep the tears out of his eyes.
“But the reason that I…that it makes me…pee myself,” Carter’s voice was small. “It’s because I…on the night of the crash…It was my fault.” His voice cracked slightly as he prepared to tell what he hadn’t told anyone. “I was speeding because I had to go to the bathroom, and I wanted to get home. When I hit the ice…”
Adelaide and Ruth both watched breathlessly as Carter wavered, keeping his eyes fixed on the ground.
“I peed my pants,” Carter said finally, his voice hardly above a whisper. “I could feel it, even before the car hit the pole.” He was babbling now. “And I was so scared and ashamed and embarrassed and all at once and every time I sleep, I feel it again, and I…wet myself again, just like I did that night.”
His humiliating story finally finished, Carter looked up at his mom, his eyes brimming with tears.
Adelaide’s eyes mirrored his own. She didn’t say a word, just stepped forward and wrapped him in a tight hug. Carter’s lower lip trembled as he leaned into his mom’s arms.
After holding on for several seconds, Adelaide composed herself and wiped her eyes. “Thank you for telling me, sweetie,” she said, using her thumb to brush an errant tear from Carter’s cheek. “I’ll go call your dad to let him know that I’ll be making an appointment with a counselor for you. We’re gonna help you with this.”
Carter nodded weakly, grateful that the conversation was over, at least for now. Adelaide patted his cheek again before heading into the dining room to call Mr. Worthington.
With his mother gone, Carter whirled on Bindle, all but breathing fire. “Happy now?” he snapped.
His voice startled Ruth out of her discomfited haze. “I…I didn’t…”
“No, you got exactly what you wanted,” Carter snarled. “I told you not to say anything. I knew my mom would just worry, and it’s not a big deal, but you just had to go and make yourself into a nurse and freak her out for no reason.”
“It’s not no reason, Carter!” Ruth retorted defensively. “This is a legitimate psychosomatic issue, and you need professional help!”
“But I don’t need your help,” Carter countered. “Everything that happened this weekend probably would have happened with or without you, and all you managed to do was piss me off on top of it. So just take your money, go home, and stop pretending that you’ve been some sort of saint to me.”
Ruth recoiled, stung at the not-entirely-inaccurate assessment. “I kept your secret, Carter. I cleaned up after you, and I didn’t tell anyone, and, most importantly, I made sure that you’re going to get the help you need!”
“Congratu-fucking-lations, Bindle,” Carter shot back. “You didn’t make fliers to post around the school with pictures of me in pissy pants, and you washed your car and my chair, even though I offered to do both, and you told my mom everything, even though I told you I’d do that, too. I’ll notify the Nobel Prize committee.”
This whole afternoon had not gone according to Ruth’s plan. “I wouldn’t expect you to appreciate the subtleties of the situation enough to actually be grateful,” she sneered. In reality, she was stunned that someone as crude and jockish as Carter had seen through her excuses.
“I’d be more grateful if I didn’t know how much you like seeing me in trouble,” Carter said flatly.
Ruth snorted. “As if anything you do-“
Carter cut her off. “Enough, Bindle. You did what you said you were gonna do. Now we can go back to avoiding each other.”
Affronted, Ruth blinked. “I believe you still have a few weeks in my car before you’re able to drive yourself.”
Carter rolled his eyes. “Of course. I still need you. Is that what you want me to say? I can’t do anything without you.” His voice seethed with sarcasm. “Thank you so much for being so nice to me and letting me ride in your car. You’re such a good person.” Carter stared down at his classmate, annoyed and desperate to be rid of her. “Maybe if you’re lucky, I’ll have another panic attack and you’ll get to tell my mom I pissed myself again,” he added.
Trembling with concealed embarrassment, Ruth reached for her things on the counter. “I only want you to get better, Carter,” she insisted. “No matter what you think.”
Then she turned and stalked out the door before Carter could see her blush. She was rather disgusted with herself; she’d let her inexplicable arousal get the best of her, and she’d pretty much been caught in a lie, instead of properly taking advantage of Carter’s struggles. She’d have to be very careful during the rest of their shared car rides not to give anything else away.
Back in the kitchen, Carter collapsed on a kitchen chair. He could hear his mom in the dining room, earnestly discussing strategy with his dad, how to best “fix” their son.
Carter rested his head in his hands, beat from the emotional turmoil of the weekend. Ultimately, he knew that getting professional help was probably for the best. If Bindle kept her word, then no one would know, and he could get back to normal life as soon as possible. He’d go to a shrink, he’d take meds, whatever, and he would stop having nightmares. And then, he’d never have to worry about peeing himself ever again. |
“On a fifth date, your date and her roommate wet their panties.”
This story is a follow-up to “Fifth date rule”, but it’s not entirely crucial to read that one beforehand. Nevertheless, if you by any chance have the time to do so, I would most certainly recommend it.
Disclaimer: This story contains female desperation and wetting, and includes some soft male-female sexual scenes at the end. Special credits to Ranpalan from the “Editing team” to proofread my work.
- - RETURNING THE FAVOUR - -
“So... what are your plans for tonight?”
”Missing you, sweetheart”, Jess texted me back, “- oh and watching a movie, too. <3”
“All by yourself?”
“Yeah... Chloe is here too, but she is in her room, working on something.
“I wish I was there with you, but - you know. Maybe I can come to your place after me and David finished our assignment?”
“Maybe. I’ll try to keep myself warm for you...”
Oh sweet lord Jess - you’re such a tease!
“You got yourself a deal. I hope David gets here soon...”
I dumped my cellphone on the coffee table and stared at the clock, silently cursing. David - he was late - again. As if I wasn’t already bummed out enough about having to spend my three month anniversary with him instead of Jess - the one I should be spending my evening with. But I didn’t really have my choice; we had to submit our assignment on monday and it was... sunday evening. Stupid me and my personality to postpone everything ‘till the last minute!
I heard my phone vibrate on the wooden table surface and picked it up, anticipating one of Jess’ texts, but it was David’s instead:
“Hey man, I’m sorry - I’m sick and I can’t make it for tonight. I already called the professor and got us a one week extension - check mail.”
Without hesitating I opened up my mailbox and indeed; a mail from our professor - as it turned out, David was right. Change of plans in just a few seconds - instead of working the entire evening on a school assignment, I just got the whole night off! I grabbed my phone again, impatiently wanting to share the good news with Jess, but then I changed my mind - what if I would pay a surprise visit to her place? After all, she was at home, just watching a movie - I most certainly would not disturb her. Plus Chloe was in her room, so we would get our privacy. And Jess - she liked surprises. I took the bottle of champagne that I had bought for the occasion out of the fridge, grabbed a few snacks and went on my way.
I politely knocked on Jess’ door a few minutes later, smiling like an idiot; oh what the heck, I was in love. Several moments later, Jess opened the door by an inch, with the door chain clearly still latched. Obviously, she wasn’t expecting anyone at this hour, and I saw her very carefully peeking through the small door opening.
I showed her the champagne bottle, and introduced myself. “Hey, it’s me! Happy third month anniversary, sweet Jess!”
“Sweet... heart?” Jess was quite surprised indeed, but clearly not the ecstatic kind that I was secretly hoping for. I guess I was interrupting something after all, but what?
“Can I... come in?”
“Umm… sure, just give me a sec.”
Jess gently slammed the door shut and left me standing in the hallway with my bottle of champagne, my snacks and my great surprise idea, which turned out to be not-so-great. Crap. I cursed myself for not texting Jess beforehand - I should have texted her. Why hadn’t I texted her? I had always thought of myself as an hopeless romantic, madly in love with Jess… perhaps I was just hopeless.
I wondered what was going on behind the closed front door - I could hear Jess and her roommate Chloe arguing over something, and some dishes jingling together in the kitchen. Was I interfering into one of their secret roommate activities? Scratch that - did they have secret roommate activities? I mean - I didn’t mind that they were spending some quality time together - especially not when I imagined them having sexy pillow fights, topless in their tight underwear, their firm boobs bouncing up and down, Chloe accidentally falling on top of Jess and wrestling with her on the floor… um - where was I? Oh yeah, so I didn’t have a problem with their roommate evenings, but in the back of my mind I wondered why Jess had lied to me about tonight. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt; after all, it was our third month anniversary and I didn’t want to start it with a fight over something insignificant.
Just a minute later, Jess opened the door with a smile, and my heart skipped a beat. My god, I already knew that my girlfriend was stunningly beautiful, but tonight, she was dressed in the sexiest way I could ever imagine. Standing in the doorway with her legs crossed, she was wearing a grey pyjama top that was two sizes too small for her, combined with a pair of matching shorts, hugging her buttocks ridiculously tight. A dark green bra was showing above the top, her curved breasts protruding from her sensual outfit.
Hesitantly as always, she leaned forward and let her lips touch mine, softly brushing them at first, then firmly embracing each other with furious passion. Her touch was trembling, but unyielding, like there was something holding her back, while being fully committed to the moment at the same time.
“Surprise...”
“Hey, that’s my line!” I tried to sound serious, Jess giggled.
“I’m so sorry that I kept you waiting - oh no - now I will have to make it up to you...”
“Mmm - what do you have in mind?”
“Well - we can always move on to the couch and…”
“And?”
“I will allow you to... give me back rubs, all night long - now come in, you silly!”
“Wait - there’s not a guy in here, is there?”
“Nah, it’s just that Chloe had joined me watching a movie, but I sent her to her room again, so that we can have some time alone… you’re not jealous, are you?”
I shook my head, smiling, and entered the living room with her. Once again, I showed her the champagne bottle, offering her to share a glass, which she enthusiastically accepted. While I was looking for two champagne flutes, I noticed two large empty soda bottles on the kitchen counter - odd - usually Jess was such a compulsive tidiness freak.
“So… do you want to watch a movie together, or…?”
“Sounds fine to me, what was the one that you were watching with Chloe?”
“Oh yeah, with Chloe - erm, just some chick flick - nothing that you would be interested in anyway.”
After gulping down our glasses of champagne, we both proceeded towards the comfortable cotton couch, and I picked a nice romantic movie from her film collection. Jess snuggled up to me, I pressed the “play” button on the remote, opening credits rolled over the screen, Jess fidgeted in her seat, and… wait - Jess fidgeted in her seat? Was I seeing things that weren’t there, or was there something going on with her? In my perception, something - I couldn’t tell what - about Jess was just off tonight, since the moment that she had opened the front door - or was is just my mind playing tricks on me?
In seconds, the little insecure person inside me started imagining the worst possible things that could happen. Was she planning to tell me something awful? That she had some kind of disease? Or maybe she was bored after three months and she wanted to break up with me? Or maybe she wanted to tell me that she was in fact a boy, and that she had a penis hidden inside her pants? Calm yourself - idiot - I had already seen her naked a dozen of times - no penis down there; I was clearly overthinking things.
Minutes passed, and despite that I was that one who had picked the movie, I wasn’t paying any attention to the romantic story evolving on the tv screen. I just couldn’t help it - both of my eyes were permanently glued to Jess’s figure - and in just fifteen minutes, there was a lot to see. At first, her movements were extremely subtle, and I could only notice them because I was extremely focused on her body.
Stage one. Her thighs were carefully pressed together, her fingers nervously tapping onto the couch surface, and occasionally she adjusted herself, shifting only her butt in the seat by a few millimeters.
Soon after that; stage two. Jess went sitting straight up, folded her right leg over her left one and bent a little forward with her upper body. Still, her positioning was sitting very static - no sudden movements - but my trained eye could definitely notice the discomfort inside her; her leg muscles were tensed up entirely, pressing her knees firmly against each other. Stage two point five; the same as stage two, with her right leg now bobbing up and down, like a nervous habit. Only - it wasn’t Jess’s habit - the reason was definitely something else.
After two point five, stage three; Jess was now squirming, unable to keep her motionlessness - instead of sitting straight up, her back was now pressed against the end of the couch. No longer it was only her leg that was bobbing up and down; her ass was now doing the exact same thing, and the brief grey shorts were riding even higher up her athletic legs. Every minute, she adjusted her position - I assumed that she realized that I was onto her movements by now - but still, she decided not to spill the beans. Stage three continued on for a while, the level of intensity varying, and I wanted to speak up, but kept my mouth shut nonetheless - after all, it was clear that she was hesitant to share her predicament with me.
But when stage four arrived, I couldn’t hold myself back any longer. Slowly but surely, her left hand was slipping away towards her crotch, and she pressed her fingers into the fabric of her shorts; she probably thought that I wasn’t looking - but I was, and I commented.
“Are you alright?”
“Mmmhm - yeah.”
Trying to brush me off with a simple nod, she shortly kissed me on the lips, and removed her hand from her lap. But no matter how enticing her touch was, it didn’t quench my thirst for the truth; I needed to know what was happening, I was watching her struggle for too long now.
I pressed the pause button on the remote, and turned myself around, facing her.
“Jess, do you need to pee?”
“No -”
Pause.
“- Well... yes, but...”
Pause.
“Promise you won’t freak out or anything?”
“I won’t.”
“Do you remember… remember the night we first kissed?”
Remember? There were hardly any nights where I did go to bed and didn’t fantasize about it - the visual of her embracing me while she was wetting through her panties, was imprinted on one of the most important places in my mind. I simply nodded as Jess chewed on her lip, clearly reluctant of opening herself up to me.
“Well… that night, Chloe… held her pee for me, as long as we didn’t kiss - and tonight… I’m kind of returning the favour…”
“Returning the favour?”
“Yeah… um today… Chloe had a job interview and the people from the office were going to her call back before nine; she didn’t want to miss the phone call by going to the bathroom, and um… I am… sympathizing…”
I couldn’t help to raise an eyebrow - was I getting this right? Not only was my precious sweet girlfriend Jess clearly in need of relief - even better - her curvaceous roommate Chloe was sharing the predicament privately in her room? A rush of arousal ran through my body, but I tried to conceal it from Jess - I couldn’t possibly tell my girlfriend that her suffering was enticing me - or worse - that the thought of her desperate roommate was provoking the semi hard-on in my boxers - could I? The realization that I would have to handle this situation very delicately crept up on me - whatever what I was about to say would not influence tonights events, but possibly also my relationship with Jess. I fruitlessly tried to come up with the right words, but Jess interrupted my ponderings.
“Sweetheart? You think I’m weird - don’t you?”
“No, absolutely not - it’s not that… it’s… I think it’s sweet.”
“Really? If you don’t like it, I will go to the bathroom right now - no problem - just tell me, please?”
“No I think… you should hold on - for Chloe. You can… hold on, right?”
“I most definitely can.”
Jess said the last bit with clear confidence, and cheerfully kissed me on the lips. Apparently relieved that she didn’t have to keep the truth from me any longer, she moved closer to me, squeezing her back against my torso. By nonchalantly resuming the movie, I tried to show her that I was actually fine with the situation.
The best part for me was that Jess wasn’t hiding her desperation any longer - I was now sitting at the front row, watching a truly unforgettable spectacle; my sexy girlfriend was squirming around, her left hand buried between her legs, holding an evening’s worth of piss inside her, if not more. I could only assume that Jess and her roommate had emptied the two soda bottles resting on the kitchen counter, and I wondered whether they had equally split the contents, or one of them had felt exceptionally daring tonight by outdrinking the other one. Even so, finishing less than a bottle alone was already impressive enough; it was safe to assume that at least one of them would be on the verge of bursting soon, if this wasn’t the case already.
Without intending to do so, I secretly started wondering how Chloe was doing in the other room, and I pondered whether it would be alright to invite her over to the living room. It was not that a sight of a wriggling Jess didn’t satisfy me, but two is always better than one, especially when the number girl two was Chloe. In the past few weeks I had rather grown fond of her presence around the apartment, not only because of her bizarre personality, but also because of the way she dressed in the house. Flimsy tops, silk nighties, really short bathrobes; anything that revealed her voluptuous figure. Yes, I was in a committed relationship but there was no harm in looking, right?
“Some more champagne?”
“Um - yeah?”
I blinked my eyes as she walked - no - waggled towards the kitchen, her thighs carefully pressed together. More champagne equaled even more fluids to surge into her bladder, but she had suggested it herself, hadn’t she?
“Do you need a hand?”
“No... I’m fine!”
Jess hardly looked fine - her seductive ass waving back and forth while she poured the sparkling wine, the bottle jostling against the glass as much as her knees were fiercely knocking together. Trembling, she brought the two drinks to me, grabbed her cellphone from the coffee table, and started tiptoeing back towards the kitchen, her left hand squeezing her private parts, her right hand texting - a few seconds later I heard the familiar “whoosh” sound that indicated that her message was sent. Without saying a thing, she placed her phone on the kitchen counter and walked back to me, maliciously smiling, and when she nestled herself onto the couch again, I heard Chloe in the other room loudly swearing. “Jess, oh come on!”
“Is... Chloe alright?”
“She’s a big girl, sweetheart, you don’t have to worry about her...”
“I suppose...” I decided not to press matters, but this whole situation was rather mysterious; I couldn’t help to wonder whether there was something else going on, besides the wait for Chloe’s job interview call. On the television screen in the background, the female protagonist nervously kissed her counterpart, the fiancee of her very best friend, but I could no longer care for the cliché story. The suspense in the very room that I was sitting in was building up, and I could only hope that I would be able to discover how this thriller would unfold in the end.
Looking over at Jess, it seemed that I wasn’t the only person in the apartment who wasn’t still engrossed in the movie. It was obvious that she just couldn’t, even if she had wanted to - her attention was elsewhere - she was biting her lip, maximizing her single-mindedness to the sole task of not flooding her panties. I wanted to tell her how sexy she looked, but I didn’t, afraid that I would jinx the glorious moment. Sitting back silently, I admired her alluring legs twitching around like her life depended on it, but not for long - all of a sudden, Chloe emerged from her bedroom, clearly in distress, a white envelope in her free hand.
Dozens of minuscule impulses were running through my body as I tried to process the small signals that Chloe was unconsciously transmitting. The four buttons of her tight jeans, opened. A large chestnut-coloured belt, dangling around her waist. Her right hand, slipped into her pants. Her eyes, pleadingly crossing with Jess. Her teeth, delicately chewing on her lower lip, just before she spoke up.
“I... I’m sorry Jess, I can’t... I can’t wait any longer, I’m just going to...”
“But - they haven’t called you yet - you promised!” Jess’ tone was calm, but firmer than usual.
“I know - I want to hold on, but I really can’t, I swear Jess. I can’t, I have to...” Chloe gasped for air as she squirmed around, making her first move towards the closed bathroom door, rumpling the white envelope with her grasping fingers.
“Don’t be silly, of course you can - give me the key, Chloe!”
Jess’ command couldn’t be more decisive - and in a mere second, when she realized that her roommate was planning on ignoring her, she jumped up, hobbling over to Chloe, who had almost reached the bathroom door and was prying the envelope seal.
“We made a deal, Chloe,” Jess simply exclaimed as she sped up towards her roommate, “I held on until we finally kissed - you must hold on until your interview call - now hand over the envelope, or I will take it from you!”
I had to blink my eyes twice, or I would never have believed what happened next. Jess, dancing on the spot to contain her full bladder, started tickling Chloe, who almost instantly doubled over from desperation, but somehow held on to the envelope, as her both hands darted towards her crotch. Tears were welling up in her eyes as she tried to push away Jess with her shoulder, but my girlfriend just giggled, and forced her fingers into Chloe’s armpit once again, clearly hitting a delicate spot; her roommate stepped back in defeat, and dropped the envelope onto the ground with a satisfactory ‘thump’. Jess jammed her hands between her legs and shortly stared at me - just long enough for Chloe to recover and bend over to pick up the key again. But Jess, as it turned out, was undefeatable when it came to fast reflexes. Sweeping her bare foot over the laminate floor, she brushed the envelope away from Chloe’s fingers, and the piece of paper sailed over the floor and under the gap of the bathroom door. Both girls went silent, watching in amazement how the precious key that they both needed to relieve themselves, disappeared before their eyes.
“What - did you just do?” Jess started grinning clunkily, clearly finding some amusement in the unfortunate occurrence, but Chloe seemed to be really pissed.
“Oh my god, this can’t be happening, this can’t be happening - this is so unfair, Jess. You knew I drank most of that soda, you knew that I was on the verge of losing it as you texted me to drink even more. And now - I have to piss like a racehorse, the only bathroom just inches away from me, but I can’t get in, because the door is fastened, and the key is at the other side of the - locked - door. So, what’s next, tell me Jess, what - is - next, because I sure can’t hold it much longer. All I wanted was a quiet, very much needed pee - it’s that too much to ask?"
Jess, shifting from foot to foot herself, bit her lip in a cute way and looked somewhat puzzled at her roommate, seemingly surprised by her friend’s sudden outburst.
"Relax, Chloe - I’ll get you your key back,” she spoke softly as she went down on both knees, and pried her fingers through the gap under the bathroom door, “I'm sure that it’s right here…”
“... Uh-oh."
"Uh-oh?”
“Yeah, umm...”
“What Jess - what?”
“Yeah, you probably don’t want to hear this, but I think the envelope traveled a bit further than I expected... I can’t reach it.”
“WHAT?”
Fire bursted out of Chloe’s eyes as she paced around the living room, her both hands ever deeper in her lap, murmuring something along the lines of “I’m going to pee myself”. She seemed to be on her very last straw, frantically looking for a place to relieve herself in a slightly decent manner, but finding none. I was kind of hoping that she wouldn’t notice me, but - alas - suddenly she turned herself to me.
“You - make yourself useful!”
“Who, me? I would love to help, but what can I do?”
“I don’t know - you’re a guy, do something, like,... like…”
“Like what? I’m not a locksmith, and even if I was, you wouldn’t have the tools to...”
“Just... barge through the door!” Chloe was getting mighty impatient.
“He’s not going to barge through the door, Chloe!” Jess joined and made it into a three-way fight, but she was right - I wasn’t going to try and break a solid wooden door with my shoulder.
“Then what Jess - then what?” Chloe’s voice broke, and tears sprung up in her eyes as her mood suddenly shifted; her emotions were getting the upper hand of her, and she looked so fragile, shuffling around in her socks, her fingers furiously massaging her privates. I don’t know whether I felt sorry for her, or whether I just wanted to avoid a fight between my girlfriend and her best friend, but before I even realized it, I got up from the couch, and actually offered my help.
“Girls - I think I have an idea - Jess, do you have a wire coat hanger somewhere?”
Jess simply nodded before silently waddling to her room, while I laid down on the floor, peeking through the gap under the bathroom door. The opening was rather large and I could easily put my fingertips in there, but they envelope was located much further away, just as Jess had stated. Lying sideways, I could see the piece of paper, ironically resting next to the toilet bowl - with a disentangled wire coat hanger and a bit of help, I would surely be able to pull the key wrapping towards me. For a second, the room went silent, and I could only hear the sound of Chloe softly moaning, her feet rhythmically tapping on the living room floor.
Jess quickly returned, coat hanger in her hand, briefly kissing me on the cheek as she bent down to hand me the metal piece. I couldn’t help to notice how she thankfully smiled at me, as if she knew that everything was going to be alright, now that her prince charming was going to save her. My grip was a little shaky at first, knowing that there were two sexy girls in the apartment on the verge of bursting, the fate of their panties in my hands - but at least they couldn't see the solid erection bulging through my jeans, now that I was down on the floor, my front directed away from them. I closed my eyes briefly, and took a deep breath. The metal wire shrieked as it drifted across the tiled bathroom floor, but getting the envelope turned out to be hardly easy. My perception of depth was abysmal, my binocular vision heavily limited by the small gap between the floor and the door. But then - click. Jess didn’t know, Chloe didn’t know, but I did. The hook of the coat hanger had fallen into place, just as I had imagined it, precisely clasping with the top fold of the envelope. The only thing that I needed to do next, was to simply pull the wire to me.
But doubt hit me. A part of wanted to be the nice guy - Jess’ hero. But was it truly my greatest desire? Didn’t I deserve a little fun myself? Was I was a pervert, for wanting them to soak their panties? Couldn’t I play the villain, for once? As it turned out - I couldn’t.
I decided to take last good look at both desperate girls, and then return them the key.
Jess.
Her legs were the first thing my eyes perceived as I turned my head. Twitchy, long, fragile legs, ending in a pair of tight grey shorts, squeezed against her crotch by the palm of her hand. A hint of her green panties showing, a bulging bladder above the delicate fabric. She stared at me with a kind of look that made my heart melt - she smiled, the teeth biting her lip giving away the grandiosity of the level of her desperation. I just wanted to get up and kiss her, but a hard, long high-pitched moan from the corner of the room reminded me that there was someone else in play;
Chloe.
Her eyes were closed, her mouth voluptuously wide, both lips quivering uncontrollably; my girlfriend’s roommate was in a trance on her own world, transfixed on the single task of keeping her pants dry, using every possible trick in the book to help her cause. Bent over, she knocked her knees together furiously, while her hands were pressed in her lap so deep that her jeans had lightly slid downwards, the waist situated around the area of her thighs. Like I wasn’t enticed enough already, the image of her smooth side butt below the white ribbon of her thong was tempting my libido even further; it was almost unbearable to contain myself, but I had to - Jess was watching. I wanted to turn around, but at that moment, Chloe opened her eyes, and she looked right into mine, pleading, and the weight of the coat hanger suddenly seemed greater in my sweating hand, now that I truly realized that I was holding the outcome of this whole situation. My consciousness pointed out that I had decided to be the gentleman, and I smiled at Chloe, feeling thrilled that I was about to save the day. At that point, her pupils dilated.
“I’m sorry, Jess…”
Chloe closed her eyes again and sighed satisfactory; I could only assume what happened next, but she stopped moving around, and after a good second, the inside of her jeans was darkening. As she placed her feet further apart, knees still pressed together, she seemed to clamp her hand onto her crotch even harder, and I imagined her exhausted bladder relaxing, a waterfall shooting out of her tormented body, the stream exploding against the palm of her hand, trickling between her fingers and into her pants. Soon, there was a translucent puddle forming where she was standing, and I stared at the liquid pool, wondering how much Chloe had been holding - it seemed like quite the amount.
"Sweetheart..."
As if I was just waking up from a dream, there was a faint call coming from the room.
"Sweetheart, how is the search for the key coming along?”
Right - Jess - the key to the bathroom; the fog in my mind started to clear, and I turned myself to the door again. Peeking through the gap, I could clearly see the key drifting towards me as I pulled the coat hanger wire, and before I properly realized it, I was holding the piece of metal in my hand - mission accomplished. Chloe was gone, her jeans lying in a pond of urine; the only ones in the room were me, and my very desperate girlfriend. I unlocked the door and then, something unexpected happened; Jess grabbed my hand and pulled me into the bathroom with her.
“I want you to kiss me - now...”
I had no idea what was going on, but I wasn’t going to miss this opportunity - I gently pressed my girlfriends back against the door, and firmly planted my lips on hers. Frantically, she embraced me back, and I felt her tongue running over me, inviting me for a turbulent french kiss. I parted her lips, and she moaned quietly from the back of her throat as she sucked my tongue in, releasing our self-control completely, succumbing to our passionate act of affection. My left hand let go of her neck and my fingers ran over her back, sliding into her pyjama bottoms, caressing her clenched buttocks, and she shivered, arching back, pressing her both hands ever deeper between her legs. I stopped kissing her for a fraction of a second, to make sure she was alright; the movement of her hips was so utterly intense that I felt she was going to pee herself any second now.
But she wanted none of it; she violently pulled my hair, controlling me with her tongue completely, and I couldn’t get away. She wanted me to continue, and we kissed aggressively, forcing our lips onto each other, faster, harder. Moaning again, she crossed her legs, her thigh rubbing against the ever growing hard-on in my jeans, and she removed her hands from her intimates, unbuckling the belt of my pants. Feeling her hands caressing all over my groin pushed me over the edge, and I completely lost all decency - both of my hands drifted into her panties, and grabbed her butt firmly. Grinding against each other, we both felt that this was getting out of hand, but we couldn’t stop.
Breathing loudly, Jess gently pushed down my jeans to reveal my boxers, and as a natural response, I dropped her pyjama bottoms. She curled her buttocks against the door out of desperation, making it obvious to me that she wanted to squeeze her privates again, but instead, she raised her arms so that I could take of her top, and I did, throwing the piece of clothing onto the door handle. Our lips parted, and I started sucking on her neck, Jess holding the back of my head, her legs fidgeting ever harder. I tried to unclasp her bra, but it took me a few seconds, and Jess released her hands, pressing them shortly between her legs again, it was definitely an urgency, and I was taking too long. Finally, her underwear came off, her gorgeous breasts up in the air, and I undid my shirt, admiring the scenery as I loosened the buttons. Jess was bouncing up and down, her fingers moving around in her panties, her full bladder showing above, and I took a step aside, so that she could go to the toilet, but she didn’t; she just kept squirming around, waiting until I would complete undressing myself.
We were both almost naked a few inches apart, only two pieces of sweaty underwear covering our privates, and we looked at each other. The sexual tension in the room was almost unbearable, but I didn’t want to be the one to make the first move. Jess had to pee, so badly - it would be wrong to induce her into pleasuring me further; I had to at least give her the chance the relieve herself, before she would soak the bathroom floor. She bit her lip, waiting for what would happen next. Her hard nipples were pointing up, and she looked me straight in the eye, full of desire. Disappointed that I didn’t make a move, she waved her butt back and forth, pushing her panties aside, exposing her thighs and the top of her slit.
That was just too much.
I moved towards her, fast, our mouths instantly entangled, my tongue aggressively working hers, and I buckled my fingers around the front of her green panties, feeling her engorged lips through the delicate fabric. Jess quivered, squirming around all she could while she bit her lip, and she grabbed my hand, pressing it deeper between her thighs, my fingertips straining her privates. Gasping for air, she tightened her grip even further, but then she shuddered violently, pushed me away and hastily crossed her legs, jamming both of her hands in her crotch. Breathing in and out, she maintained her bent over position for a few seconds, standing still while I gazed at all her curves, then, a dark spot appeared on her green panties, and a trickle ran down in the lining, a few fluorescent drops escaping through the side, falling to the floor. Jess, who had regained control after her little accident, tried to cover it up by sweeping her bare foot over the bathroom tiles, but it was obvious to me: she had peed in her panties. She looked up, her eyes watered, and she threw herself at me again, smiling, but I took a step back.
“Jess...”
She squealed. “It’s only a spurt - I can...”
“Jess...”
“I can hold on, yes, I want to...”
“Jess, you’re literally bursting, why don’t you...”
“For you - I want to turn you on, as much as Chloe did.”
“What? No, Chloe did not turn me on, baby...”
“Sweetheart - I know. It’s ok, I don’t mind. Come on, enjoy it, I can’t hold it much longer...”
It was hard arguing with her - she was clearly on to me, there was no point in denying my arousal. She wanted me to take pleasure in her desperation, and I wanted it too - I only felt bad that she was gonna wet the floor for me, it didn’t seem very appropriate, so I took her by the hand, and guided her into the shower. Jess smiled, approving my idea, and I leaned forward to kiss her again, but she firmly pressed her free hand on my torso, pushing me against the opposite shower wall. I noticed the dirty look in her eyes; she wanted to give a show, one that would crush Chloe’s performance, one that only she would be able to give me, one that would be imprinted on my mind until the day I would die.
Leaning against the shower wall, she danced around sensually, her legs twitching as massive waves overtook her. Carefully, she removed her hands from between her legs, and she almost lost it; she doubled over, her fingers darting to her privates again, squeezing. It drove me crazy, seeing how close she was to total eruption, but somehow still held on. Breathing rapidly, she separated her hands from her loins, permanently this time, and slowly started pulling the sides of her panties down, giving me the final part of her striptease. I stepped forward, and laid my hands on hers, pulling the fabric up again, whispering in her ear how I wanted her to keep them on. She pulled herself towards me, and we kissed again, her hips grinding against mine, her thighs twisting around my leg. Her mouth moved to my neck, and she whispered my name, pressing her breasts hard against my chest. A certain calmness fell over her, and she reached for the faucet, yanking it brutally before her entire strength disappeared from her body - I had to hold her firmly to stop her from falling over.
I looked up to see the first drops diving out of the shower head, and by the time they landed on my chest, I felt a warm sensation rushing against my upper leg. Jess was peeing, hard through her green panties, her lips pressed against my thigh, her bladder finally relaxing after that impressive hold. Soon, the cold tap water was mixing with her own waterfall, but she was emptying herself with such a tremendous force, that the water turned warm as soon as it had passed her groin. On our chests, however, it was still ice cold, and Jess’ nipples hardened, poking my skin while she held me firmly. Breathing out deeply, she couldn’t conceal her excitement, elated that she no longer had to keep that massive amount of urine inside her tormented body. Just as I thought that it would never happen, the stream died down, transforming into a small trickle; the flow was no longer warm, Jess’ bladder was finally empty.
Our arms let go of each other and we stared at one another, madly in love. Dripping wet, Jess got out of the shower and dried herself with a towel while I stayed in the cabin, slightly saddened that her show had ended, but also glad that she had had the chance to relieve herself at last. Walking over to me, she handed me the moist towel, and grabbed my hardened penis firmly, stroking it once before before removing her hand, biting her lip seductively.
“Wait in my room - I’m going to check up on Chloe, and I’ll meet you there.”
And so she went, barefeet and only with a pair of wet panties around her hips, leaving me alone in the bathroom. I dried myself, smiling like a madman, and dropped my boxers to the floor, kicking them in the corner with the rest of my clothes. Carefully, I opened the door and glanced into the living space; when I was sure no-one was there, I leaped towards Jess’ room, hopping onto the made bed, leaving the door open. Seconds later, I heard Jess coming out of Chloe’s space.
She walked into the room, butt-naked, the wet panties in her hand.
It was the best sex I’ve ever had.
THE END |
I'm a supporter of the experiences forum remaining about real experiences. I'm ever hopeful, but my real experiences and observations aren't nearly as exciting as I'd like. I'm sorry I can't contribute there except in comments—believe me, I really hope I have a good true story to share one day. In my fantasies, I embellish the few experiences I've had to my liking. I realized I could post them as fiction. There's at least a kernel of truth in the stories I'll be posting, but I will embellish and change things as I see fit. Without further ado, here is a story inspired by my recent vacation. In real life, of course, I'm a dude. The snazzy icon beside my name proves it, and internet people never lie. Since I'm into female desperation, the narrator of this story is female. Based on a true story, the same way Hollywood has white actors portraying black people and historical facts are handled with the care of a horse stampeding through a porcelain shop.
We're really spoiled to be living in the twenty-first century. It's amazing that we can make a trip that would take weeks two hundred years ago in just a matter of hours. Being disappointed that things don't go exactly as planned when I'll be employing the powers of modern aviation is a sign of the times. In any event, I was going to Rome. On the way there, there was one stop-over, just an hour and then I'd be aboard a direct plane to the eternal city, to which all roads lead and all that crap. I scrambled around for a bus to the airport and realized there was no bus passing by the stop right next to my house, when I'd seen one pass by just a couple weeks prior. I power-walked to another bus stop I knew the airport shuttle passed by, dragging my suitcase behind me, and sat down relieved to have made it just in time. That is, until I received a text message telling me I needn't have bothered. “Your flight has been canceled. You've been booked on a new flight leaving at 15:30. You can check in by texting YES to this number.” I checked the time on my phone. 15:23. What the fuck. How was I supposed to reach a plane when it left seven minutes after I got the message? The whole affair ended with me getting a new flight later that night, missing my connecting night. That meant a free night at a hotel courtesy of the airline. Thankfully it was within walking distance of the airport. Less than five minutes, in fact. This whole mess meant I had to get a new plane bound for Rome at 6:30 in the morning. I'd have to be up at 5 AM. I fell asleep at one and barely slept four hours.
The next morning, I showered, scarfed down breakfast at the hotel, got my baggage checked in, and breezed through security. Not much of a line at this hour. My eyes were drooping as I walked. I've never fallen asleep standing before, but I feared this might be the day. Fantasies of powerful stimulant drugs raced through my mind, but I settled for coffee. I sat down at the gate, tapping my feet to the rhythm of nervous energy. Excitement mixed with a little trepidation. I don't fear flying, I just get anxious traveling abroad alone. I love traveling, but the whole getting from point A to point B part I don't love. The time at B, this time Rome, is what I love about traveling. I boarded the plane and thought about sleeping, but decided against it. I can't sleep when I'm excited, I have trouble sleeping on planes in general, and I'd just had a coffee. My new travel route included a layover in Copenhagen. I noticed a flight attendant moving down the aisle, dragging along her trolley of snacks and drinks. One complementary sandwich for Business class. I was in Economy—otherwise I could never have afforded this vacation—and all I got was a free coffee. I needed more coffee anyway.
I was sitting in the window seat, next to two middle-aged women. The flight attendant offered me one of those paper cups that do nothing to shield you from the scalding heat of the beverage inside. I flipped down the table in front of me and accepted the offer. Except it was too hot, and my hand was unsteady. The cup slipped out of my hand and spilled over my lap—but mostly onto the woman beside me. I was mortified. It's not even nine in the morning yet, and I've already soiled my pants, but more importantly, someone else's. The woman chuckled. Best case scenario. The flight attendant asked if I was okay. In reality, I wasn't. Aside from the embarrassment, I'd spilled nearly boiling hot coffee on myself. If not for my pants, I'd have gotten burn injuries, I'm sure of it. The little layer of insulation saved me, but I still sat with a painful burning sensation on my upper thighs. Too embarrassed to say anything—and what could the flight attendant have done anyway—I accepted a stack of paper towels. We got cleaned up as well as we could. That was a mostly futile effort. The woman beside me asked if she had bumped into my hand. “Yeah, sure.” She hadn't, my hands had just been unsteady. The flight attendant offered me a new cup of coffee, but I was too mortified to accept. The rest of the flight passed uneventfully.
I disembarked at Copenhagen Airport and went looking for a bathroom. I had to pee a little bit, not nearly urgent, but mostly I wanted to change into the shorts I had in my backpack. It was a relatively cold morning when I left, but once I'd be landing in Rome, it would be a hot summer day. I thanked gods I don't believe in that I brought the shorts along, so I could get out of my coffee-stained jeans. When I looked down, it almost looked like I'd peed myself, except for a conspicuous lack of wetness right where my legs met. I'm pleased to say there's a small gap between them. In any event, I found the ladies', peed and changed. Next task: locate a place to buy a bottle of water. It was already appropriate weather for shorts, and once I arrived, it would be even hotter.
I found a silent place to sit down, sipping on my water. My laptop was dead and I'd smartly put the charger in my check-in luggage. Great. I hate surfing the internet on my little phone screen—my frustration with being relegated to access all the world's information in 1080p resolution on this tiny wonder machine was another sign of the times. There was nothing wrong, I was in the right place, had my boarding ticket, knew the gate, had two and a half hours to spare, but still, a feeling of unease. I'd forgotten something. My medication. My anti-crazy pills. I realized I hadn't gotten any kind of official-looking document from my doctor reassuring customs that these were my prescription pills, and didn't even know if I needed it upon entering Italy. Great, as if I needed another source of anxiety. But I'm already in the EU, right? Free borders? And anyway, my script is printed on the boxes, even if the officials can't read the language. I fished up the meds from my backpack and washed them down with water. Two red-and-white capsules, and four white pills that taste of some awful chemical fruit flavor. Whose brilliant idea was it to discourage a patient group who are already the most likely not to comply with their meds by adding this unnecessary flavoring? I got it down anyhow, and soon, the feeling of unease passed. I'm grumpy in the morning not because I'm tired or haven't had my morning coffee—I need a cigarette and my crazy meds.
On the way to the gate, I passed an ad. “The perfect accompaniment to your trip.” Picture of two cans of Pringles and two bottles of Carlsberg. Seventy-nine Danish kroner. The Danes sure love their beer. Another ad tempted travelers with a shot of Gammel Dansk with your beer, an awful brand of liquor, for ten kroner, or one Euro. I passed it all by, content with my water. It's five o'clock somewhere, but I'll be drinking enough when I get there.
Indeed, in retrospect, I woke up with a headache every morning. I spent three days until I located an actual bar, as the district I was staying in had a million pizza and pasta restaurants and no clubs or pubs. I still somehow managed to get tipsy, teetering on drunk, every day. The last night, I took a bus to Campo de' Fiori—the Field of Flowers—a square known for its nightlife. I watched Brazilian capoeira artists do backflips in the square and then go around with a hat asking for money from people at the outdoors tables of restaurants. Then I had a few pints, which provided me with enough courage to approach a Belgian sitting alone. He took me to a club that opened at midnight, and I shuffled back and forth between an ATM and the club. Apparently I live in an unusually enlightened country, since I can pay by card everywhere. In Rome, it's all cash. So I withdrew way too much money and spent it all. Everyone was smoking inside, which threw me off. Surely this was against EU policies? I'm a smoker, so I sat down and did as the Romans do. At four AM, I was stumbling around Termini Station, looking for my hotel, totally shitfaced. A thief came running behind me and fucking snatched my phone right out of my hand. Stupid me, I'd spent the whole trip worried about pocket thieves, and then it turns out my phone would have been safer in my pocket. I couldn't find my hotel, so I hailed a cab, which took me all of two hundred meters to the other side of the station. I'd spent all my cash, and of course I couldn't pay by card. I think the concierge somehow fixed it, as if I was some VIP. I was too drunk to remember. I'd said fuck it to the shitty budget “hotel” I'd been staying it, barely worth its one star, and booked a real nice art deco hotel for the last night. More on that hotel later. I passed out in bed without going to the bathroom. By some miracle, I woke up at ten, just in time before the Continental breakfast—the C is short for Crappy—was over, without an alarm. Also, I was in a hot but dry bed, bursting for a piss. I've never wet the bed, drunk or sober. My friends have, but never me. Good bladder genes I guess. I took a moment to admire my body in the tall mirror in the bathroom, naked from the waist up, but then my bladder told me that it was pee in the potty or pee in my panties time, so I sat down and unleashed the Kraken. As I did so, I felt vain for digging my body so much. It really isn't all that special, no matter how admiring the words of others are. I passed by the bidet.
Let's get back to the real story. Sorry for rambling. Overall, despite a delayed flight and a stolen phone, I enjoyed myself, although I did miss my friends. All three of them.
I bought a red hot dog at a stand, another Danish staple. It would have to do for breakfast. Before I headed for the gate, I took a detour to an outdoor smoking area. Ironically, to get fresh air at airport code CPH, you have to go to the smoking deck. I do love my cigarettes. I'm planning on killing my liver before the cigarettes kill me. Where is your god now, anti-smoking advocates?
I discarded my empty water bottle in a trash bin and walked to the gate. When I sat down, the feeling of unease was back. I tried to read the book I'd brought along, but the letters swam. I was seeing double, and I had trouble walking straight. I'd passed the numerous offers of cheap drinks by, but I felt drunk. Somewhere, the cogs in my head were turning, and I realized my mistake. My doctor had kindly offered me double strength pills, so I could take two instead of four. I'd been eating my old pills at home, but when I packed, I'd tossed in an unopened box, and it must have been the two-hundred and not one-hundred milligram ones. I had taken four. I should have taken two. Having the mystery worked out didn't exactly help. Would I get denied boarding because I was too “drunk”?
Everything went smoothly, although I'm sure my face was sporting my best “I'm totally not drunk” look.
I didn't know what else to do, so I decided to try and sleep off the drunk feeling. I couldn't sleep, but at least I could rest my eyes and hope that I wouldn't puke. I wasn't drunk, so hopefully this drunk-like feeling didn't come with the vomiting part. After an hour or so in the air, I began feeling better. I noticed a small need to pee, but I ignored it. Instead I opened my book and tried to read. Slowly, the letters stopped swimming and sank into place. The guy beside me was asleep. I was in an aisle seat, so I could've easily ran off to the restrooms and taken a longing look at the “No smoking in the airplane. This includes the plane lavatories” sign. I didn't. I could hold it, and I sometimes get a little fluttery feeling in my tummy when I hold my pee. It's odd. I can't explain it.
By the time the seat belt sign was switched on, I was definitely at the point where I would have normally gone to the bathroom. Paradoxically, my throat was parched and I was dying for a drink. Must be the heat. I watched the ground grow larger on one of the handy screens that had magically folded out in front of my seat, showing a live feed of our descent. Another modern wonder. We touched down, and I stepped out into the heat. I'd expected more of a heat wave, actually. I remember stepping off a plane in Croatia many years ago, directly from cold Scandinavia. The heat difference felt like stepping into a sauna. It had been over twenty Celsius in Copenhagen—I don't know how to convert metric to idiotic—and it was plenty hot. I was sweating and probably stinking.
Once inside the terminal, I latched onto the other passengers. I've always wondered if there's this one guy who actually knows where he's going, and everyone else just thinks, “Hey, let's follow the herd like ducklings.” What if one day there isn't that guy? We made it to the baggage claim today too. Now I had a problem: I was effectively trapped. There must be bathrooms somewhere, but I couldn't risk missing my luggage. I had to wait beside the conveyor belt. I was amazed at how slowly things were moving. Gives you a sense of just how huge this airport is. I was standing at baggage reclaim belt number 18, and still, it took forever to spot the pink ribbon on my suitcase. I recognized the Danes behind me from the herd, and asked them if we were really at the right place. They shrugged. “I think so,” they said, in their peculiar accent. It's like they're physically incapable of saying anything without involving the back of their mouth.
I'd began unconsciously shifting my legs by the forty minute mark. A possible accident was far from my mind. Inconceivable. Even the word “accident” in reference to wetting your pants sounded juvenile. By the one hour mark, I couldn't stand still. My movements were still subtle, but undeniable. The trained eye couldn't be certain, but if anybody around me had a special interest in this sort of thing, they would at least have raised an eyebrow. Seriously, an hour and still no luggage? I started to worry it was lost. But then everyone else's luggage would have to be, too, and we could demand the airline or airport or whoever do something about it with the force of a mob. Finally, after one hour and fifteen minutes of agonizing, I spotted my pink ribbon. I resolved to use the bathroom as soon as I got through customs. I passed by declaring nothing, as usual.
On the other side, there were no toilets in sight. It took me five minutes to orient myself, and when I squinted my eyes, I could make out a sign with a stick man and stick woman and an arrow on it in the distance. I headed over, but when I passed and saw that it pointed at a long corridor and past a corner out of sight, I made a split-second decision to keep holding it. I can pee at the train station. Where is that, anyway?
I located a ticket stand and bought one ticket to Termini station, the central hub in Rome. From there it should be a short walk to my hotel. The lady behind the counter was displeased, but allowed me to pay by card. This was the first suggestion that I ought to withdraw some cash. Despite my predicament, I had to buy a bottle of water. My thirst for water won out over my hunger for a pee. “Where's the station?” I asked the ticket lady. She told me to go to the second floor and I'd easily spot the signs.
Leonardo da Vinci—Fiumicino Airport is huge. The arrivals area was one long, wide corridor. I followed the train signs, but found nothing. My bladder jolted with each step. I wanted to stop and cross my legs, but it would only slow me down. It would be faster to just locate the train station and pee there. I took an elevator to the second floor and walked around aimlessly. I saw a lot of signs with a train icon, but none of them seemed to lead anywhere. One led to an escalator closed off with yellow tape. At this point, I really needed to pee. I didn't remember the last time I had to pee this much. I was sweating, and every part of me, my shorts, my panties, my shirt, my legs and arms felt oily wet. For the first time since I was five, the thought entered my mind: what if I don't make it? No, silly, you're never going to have “an accident.” I made air quotes in my head. After half an hour of searching without result, I found some stairs leading to the third floor. There must be bathrooms there, I figured. Along with the squirmy feeling of a full bladder, there was that tingling in my tummy again. Stupid.
On the third floor, no bathroom was in sight. But there were more signs pointing to the train station, and this time, they seemed to lead somewhere. Finally! A thought clicked in my head: maybe the Italians use the same system as the British, where the ground floor is the zeroth, and the third story from the ground is the “second floor.” My brain must be filled with urine for me not to think of it earlier. I found my way to a glass corridor bridging two buildings. On the other side, I looked to my right and saw the welcome sign of a train station. There were no bathrooms. I felt a pang in my stomach, my abdominal muscles strained, but I continued on without leaking a drop. I've never peed my pants lifting weights or laughing, not even a little bit. I bought a ticket and had it stamped as I passed a gate. Stood on the platform and realized two things. One, I need to pee. My brain seemed to rediscover this every other minute, when my bladder muscles acted up. Two, I have no idea which train to take. There seemed to be two destinations, which gave me a 50/50 chance of making it onto the right one. They were apparently going in opposite directions. Landing in an unfamiliar place in an unfamiliar city seemed disastrous. One train arrived on the right side of the platform. I so wanted to take it, but I seemed to remember the man in the booth saying something about my train number starting with a 3—maybe 314? The train that arrived had the number 417 on the side. I stood hopping from foot to foot as it departed. Another train arrived on my left. 311. People were stepping off and stepping on, and I just stood there, holding my pee “like a big girl.” The air quotes around the childish language in my head were rapidly fading. The stream of people getting on the train became a trickle—not in my panties, thankfully—and then it was nothing. Three backpacking girls came up behind me and boarded the train like pros. Like they knew where they were going.
I couldn't take it anymore. I was briefly convinced that if I stood there waiting five minutes longer, I would be standing in a puddle. It wasn't true, of course. I was nowhere near the brink of losing it, so I told myself. In any case, why take the chance? 5% is still one in a twenty possible worlds, I am peeing myself in a fucking train station in fucking Rome, full of people, and I'm sure in 95% of those 5% I would be bawling like a baby. I chanced it. I'm an explorer going into the land on the map where it says “here be dragons.” I'm going on that fucking train. My internal dialogue gets increasingly salty when I'm stressed. When everything's almost going black and I'm close to hyperventilating, my brain can't seem to form a sentence, it's just a series of disconnected swear words.
I got on the train with my suitcase and was immediately boxed in. No chance of getting out. I sat down on my heel and tried to go to a happy place. A quiet, green meadow with… Toilet bowls hanging like fruit from the trees? After a while, people had found their seats, but the train wasn't moving. I realized I could now walk down the aisle and maybe find a bathroom, although there were none in the car, nor were there any signs. I needed to get my ticket checked anyway, and I couldn't leave my seat until I did. Was I going to lug along my suitcase or was I going to chance getting it stolen? I trust nobody. Not even my bladder right now. It has never failed me yet, but our working relationship is breaking down. Then I realized something else I'd disregarded in my desperation: although I already had my ticket stamped at the gate, the Romans insist that you get them pre-stamped at machines or booths or whatever at the station. I didn't know what to do about it. I was about to do “it” in my pants, I couldn't be worrying about doing various other “its.” The train got moving, and a conductor appeared. He didn't say anything about the missing stamp on my ticket. On my way back a week later, the conductor would mention it, but I played the clueless tourist card and she let me off with a warning. Rewind to the historical present and I'm looking desperately forwards in the car, then backwards, and there's no restrooms in sight. Just an electronic display in front of me, informing me that it was thirty-five minutes till Termini Station. Where dreams go to die.
I spent the entirety of the train ride humping my heel and trying to hide it. This had the unintentional effect of making me horny. My face was sweaty already, but now my cheeks flushed red. I looked down, realized I'd finished half my bottle of water and cursed myself. One more hump and the urge to pee subsided for a moment. My horniness was inversely proportional to my need to pee. The more I humped, or let my hands linger in my lap and press a little too hard against my crotch, the more temporary relief from the feeling that I was going to pee in my seat, but also that much more pleasurable tingling down below. I couldn't decide if having an orgasm or peeing my pants on the train to Rome was preferable. I'm a loud moaner; I can't help it. I decided that wetting myself was marginally less embarrassing and calmed my humping down. We were slowing down and soon slid into the station. I was out in a flash.
The station was confusing in itself, but once I got into the street the real nightmare began. The hotel's website had some confusing directions, turn down this street, walk three hundred meters down and turn right… I don't know what any of these streets are called! There weren't any signs to help me either. I began walking up and down, past picturesque old Roman houses. Termini Station is smack in the middle of the Old Town. Every other door led in to a café or restaurant, and I made a half-hearted attempt: “Scusi, do you have a restroom I could use?” The old man inside shook his head. “Grazie anyway.” Prick. Carrying my suitcase in the narrow doors and navigating them around the tables inside didn't seem very tempting, and I gave up my attempt. Instead, I focused on locating my hotel. Google Maps must surely be of help. They have GPS in Italy, right? Stupid, of course they do. Satellites, they're everywhere above us.
Well, Google Maps kept leading me in circles, up and down streets that all seemed to lead back to within a stone's throw of the station. My suitcase bumped and shook as I lead it over old bricks, up and down raised sidewalks. I was starting to feel unusually clammy in my shorts, but my shirt was wet with sweat as well. I got so absorbed in my hunt for the hotel, I forgot about my bladder for a little while. It took me over an hour to find the right street. I had walked past it twice and even through it once. It was now getting to be late in the afternoon. When was the last time I peed? Nine in the morning? My mind ran along a single track, the one hopefully leading to my destination. Once I located the right street, I had to walk up and down it several times with no luck. The only remotely hotel-looking facades had the wrong names. At last, I found a small sign outside the opening into an old courtyard. There were about twenty different names printed beside twenty different buttons connected to an ancient calling system. Half of them were personal names.
“What are you looking for?” A middle-aged Italian said. I told him the name of the B&B I was supposed to be staying at. He pointed to the right button. My urge to pee had now returned with a vengeance, and it took every milligram of my strength not to potty dance in front of the man. I pushed the button. There was a buzzing, then, after twenty seconds and several more frantic button-pushes, an Italian accent. “Uh… Hello? I have a reservation?” I almost forgot my name. The voice on the other end told me to wait and he'd come down to get me. The middle-aged Italian had left, which gave me three minutes of squeezing myself, beyond caring what anyone else might think. Then a handsome young, copper-skinned man appeared. He took me across the courtyard, adorned with palm trees, and into a dim hallway. I realized this was an apartment complex. Laundry hung from balconies above me. This is my hotel?
He took me up the stairs to the reception. The reception was just another anonymous green door, just like all the others. Beside the other doors were personal names. Later that day, I realized this door was locked at all times unless there was someone checking in or out. The telephone number for the “hotel” (now looking less and less like a hotel) led to a phone inside the reception. The only way to find a hotel employee was to roam the whole apartment complex. There was only one man at work at any time, and he could be anywhere. Why didn't I just stay at a hostel? Why must I be cursed with a need for privacy, when this dump is the privacy I get? My shorts felt clammier than ever. I couldn't stand still while the clerk—and every other job title at the hotel while on duty—made a copy of my passport. “Is anything wrong?” He asked. I shook my head and bit my lip. Everything is wrong. Get this over with. I'd called the day before and told them my plane had been canceled and I had to cancel my first night. We'll sort it out when you arrive, they said. Now I had to argue with him about paying for the night I canceled. “You have to pay for the whole stay, including the first night,” he said. “Is not my fault. It's Booking.com policy, you have to cancel fourteen days in advance.” How could I have known fourteen days ago that my flight would have a last-minute cancellation? I later found out his line about the website I'd booked my stay through was pure bullshit. I had no time for this, so I paid by credit card and neglected to pay the city tax, fourteen Euros, which for some reason had to be paid in cash I didn't have on hand. “No problem, you can do it later,” he said. I never did. Pee now, said my bladder. Do it! Pee your fucking pants! It's okay! Go potty! My inner dialogue was quickly descending into curses anachronically punctuating childish babble. The air quotes were gone.
My room was on the fifth floor. Five flights of stairs, six including the one I'd already climbed. The hotel clerk insisted we take the elevator. I'm not very claustrophobic, but the rickety old elevator was barely broad enough for my small frame, and looked like it hadn't seen maintenance since the fifties. I wouldn't be surprised if it got stuck on a regular basis. If it did, I'd be screaming for my life while wetting on the young Italian's shoes. No thank you. I was more insistent than him, and we took the stairs. I continued walking up and down those stairs throughout the entirety of my stay. He offered to carry my suitcase, but I was too stubborn. I regretted it every step of the way. Once we were up, he offered me a keychain with four keys on it. One key for the gate to the courtyard, one key to the elevator I would never use, one key to the door in front of us, and one key to my room. He unlocked the door and led me down the hallway to my room. I was dancing from foot to foot when he wasn't looking.
The room was to a low standard, like everything in this hotel, but it was clean but for the smudgy wallpaper. There was a mini fridge (empty), a double bed, and a door to a small balcony overlooking the courtyard. The bathroom was equally tiny and had no door. It took me two days to realize it did have a sliding door, although it couldn't be locked. Stupid. The man told me not to flush anything that didn't come from my body into the toilet, including toilet paper. That goes in the trash bin. Leave leave leave, I thought, but I maintained my polite demeanor. He asked me if I had any questions, and the only one I had was “are you going to leave or stand there and watch me pee in my shorts?” so I said no and ushered him out the door.
When he was out, I had a moment's peace. Instead of rushing to the toilet, I stepped out of my shoes and sat on the bed. I was suspicious of the dampness of my shorts, and pulled them off. My panties were more than damp. I laid down on my back, which took the pressure off my bladder for a moment. Raised my legs in a “come take me” position, up in the air, and inspected my panties. This was, in retrospect, not the most sensible way to check on them, but I got it in my mind that this was a good vantage point. Past my stomach, and I could raise my butt in the air and look at the bottom. The bathroom mirror was too high up.
There could be no mistake: the half moon on my panties wasn't all sweat. The wet patch extended as far back as I could see. Raising my legs put pressure on my bladder and I strained so hard not to pee I didn't realize my eyes were closed until I opened them. I'd gained a false sense of security being alone so close to a toilet. I stood up and walked one step forward. A one second spurt escaped and shot out, and I could actually see my pee as it hit the floor. A sound escaped me, but it wasn't a cry, it was a moan. At that moment, it became real to me. This was really happening. The speed with which I shuffle-walked with my hands in my crotch must have been a world record. If there is ever a 100 meter full-bladder pee-shuffle in the Olympics I'll smash Usain Bolt. I ripped down my panties and not a moment too soon. Before my butt hit the toilet ring, I was peeing.
As I sat there, I debated whether I should admit to myself that I just had my first accident in twenty years. The ironic quotation marks in my head were long gone. I picked up my panties and inspected them. Touched my own pee, which was all over the front and the seat. Looked over and spotted the light reflecting in the tiny puddle I'd left in front of the bed. That last bit didn't count. It was frivolous, really. Almost intentional (yet clearly not). I could have gone to the toilet two minutes earlier and that wouldn't have happened. I knew this was just my adult mind rationalizing the unthinkable, the way you do. I traced the wet seat of my panties (black cotton, by the way, making it harder to spot any wetness). Even put my finger up to my nose and smelled. It smelled like pee, and I was a little disgusted with myself for doing the smell check. This wasn't sweat and I knew it. It was undeniable. I'd had an accident. I'd gone potty in my pants. Pee-peeing my panties on the first day of my vacation, could it get better? (It did, not speaking ironically.) But only a little one! Look Ma, I totally made it to the potty, well almost anyway and that little thing wasn't my fault, it just came out!
I reached for the toilet paper, but remembered it wasn't supposed to go in the toilet. I had to change my clothes and shower anyway, so why bother wiping? I pulled up my panties and felt the wetness. Decided to leave them in front of the toilet and walk nude. I picked up my shorts and inspected them. Damp on the inside, but no visible wetness anywhere. I suppose Rome was the perfect place to have an accident if you were going to have one. An enormous city where you'll never see anyone you meet again, and where you can easily become anonymous in a crowd. The humiliation and embarrassment won't be lasting.
I pulled off my socks, shirt and bra and headed for the shower. That pleasant tingling was back in force, and I might have to deal with that little problem first. |
Here's another mostly true story.
We have this elaborate celebration of high school graduation that inexplicably happens before graduation, right in the exam season. There are lots of rituals and customs, but the relevant part is that it involves a lot of partying and drinking. Oh, and wearing these overalls for seventeen days straight without washing them, a sort of uniform. I wanted so badly to see someone wet them, which would be disastrous, but I never did.
A bunch of us were going to a concert event specifically for high school seniors that was held in a neighboring town. The bus drive was supposed to last around an hour and a half, which didn't bode well for any hopes of bus desperation. We graduate HS at 18-19, so we can legally drink. And oh, how we drankk.
One girl who wasn't supposed to be there had decided to crash the party. Not that any of us complained, but nobody had invited her and she'd have to sneak into the concert. She was seventeen, and kind of a party girl. Teen rebellion, I suppose. She was short, blonde and reasonably pretty, and acted like she was hot shit. Today, she was wearing some top that was too unremarkable for me to remember, but what's etched into my memory (and imagination) is what she wore below the waist: a very short, black pleated skirt, fishnet stockings, and black boots.
As I got on the bus, I contemplated sitting beside a girl I'd been flirting with a bit, but I wasn't that attracted to her and decided against it. Instead, something compelled me to sit further in the back, across the aisle from this girl, let's call her Thea. The journey went along, and I sat staring out the window. Some people had snuck alcohol in water or sports bottles and were drinking on the bus, but I'd decided to go at the last minute and didn't have any alcohol with me. Luckily for me, though, the bus stopped after only twenty-five minutes of driving. I don't know exactly why, but we were told it would be thirty minutes until we got on the road again. Most of us got out to stretch our legs. It was the kind of place that is an oasis in the middle of the countryside. A little denser with houses than elsewhere, and there was a grocery store with an attached cafeteria. The kind of country store that sells everything from food to carpenting tools. I decided this was a great opportunity to procure some beer, so I strolled over. It was only a five minute walk, if that, but most of us just milled about around the bus. It was a good opportunity to pee if you'd neglected to go before getting on the bus, but I peed right before and didn't need to go. I bought my beer and walked back, and a little while later, we were on the road again.
As before, I sat across the aisle from Thea. Almost as soon as we started, she began complaining that she had to pee. I wonder why she didn't go when she had the opportunity. She was sipping at a bottle with a clear liquid I assume contained something alcoholic. I shrugged and figured she was just one of those girls who exaggerate their urgency. I've heard girls say they were about to pee themselves before, and they were standing still displaying no sign of desperation whatsoever.
Shortly after departing, we got to a notoriously bad stretch of road. I know, I once had a summer job where I walked the entire stretch cutting bushes and vegetation along the auto railing, where the tractors with automatic cutters can't reach. It has since been rendered obsolete by a tunnel that bypasses it. Most of it is a winding road squeezed between sheer rock on one side and a precipitous drop down to the ocean, separating by a small metal railing. Lots of sharp corners, tunnels and bumps, and you better pray you don't meet a car passing in the other direction. Not a very good place to be driving on a full bladder.
Her desperation, although obvious only in her voice, didn't cease. I began to grow excited. Perhaps she really did need to pee badly. I looked over and she sat with stiff legs in front of her, but didn't move. As the trip went on, her cries of "I need to pee" became more frequent. I don't know that they were addressed to anyone in particular. Like I said, she was moderately attractive, nothing that would take my mind off the much prettier girls sitting in the bus. If not for her very hard work to emphasize what attractive features she had, and her need to pee. That last bit gradually made her the sexiest girl alive in my eyes.
As the road began to really wind, a stretch that is tolerable by car, but rather uncomfortable in a bus because it feels like you're one inch clear of the rock wall (and I sat on the side facing it), she began to fidget. Her bottle lay on the seat beside her, and she seemed to be lifting and lowering herself on one of her buttocks and then the other. "God, I need to pee!" she said again. This is one of the places where you physically can't pull over. The door won't clear the sides, so you can't get out. Occasionally, you pass a little pocket made so that one car can pull over while another passes, but there is absolutely no cover, nor any space left when a big bus is occupying it. Now her fidgeting was obvious. Her feet were moving about, and it looked like she had ants down her pants, because she couldn't seem to sit still.
I had to look out the window in order for the blood to flow from my groin back to my brain. There's nothing like a rock wall to take your mind off sex. I had to steal periodic glances at Thea, of course. Her plight was obvious, and she was stuck. Unfortunately for me, the prospects of an accident were rapidly dwindling. We were only thirty minutes from our destination, and had passed the perilous stretch of road and were now on a regular country road. The roads here, for all our oil money, are terrible, but at least this part was wide enough for two cars and only moderately bumpy. Thea whimpered, and I looked over to see her hands pressing down on her skirt. She had crossed her legs, but the ants seemed to have traveled down her stockings, and she would uncross and cross them. "I need to pee!" she said. A few people looked back, but nobody paid it much attention. We were sitting toward the back, and only a couple people were behind us.
Twenty minutes left. Thea was biting her lip while bobbing up and down. There's nothing sexier than a girl biting her lip, assuming she's clothed and not peeing herself. Now she seemed genuinely distressed, as if she didn't think she would make it and was already envisioning the horrible humiliation of peeing her pants on a bus at seventeen. Her hand now wandered toward the waistband of her skirt, but she saw me looking and restrained herself. By this point, I didn't care if I was being obvious. Her predicament was far more embarrassing than my staring. "I need to peeeeee!" It was like the chorus to a song. I've seriously never heard a girl say this so many times, so frequently.
Fifteen minutes. She was gasping and whimpering, but her eyes were still dry.
We were now on the outskirts of town. We were less than ten minutes away from our destination, approaching an intersection. To our right, on her side of the bus was a gas station. Thea stood up. "Stop!" She yelled. "Stop the bus! Please, I need to pee!" I think most bus drivers wouldn't, we were so close and there wasn't anywhere to stop unless you pulled into the station. He did. The doors slid open and she ran off, hurriedly putting her bottle in her purse. The bus pulled away. It would be a very long walk and she had no one to transport her where we were going. Clearly, the need had won out over both decency and logistics.
The bus pulled away. I watched her walk very fast, clutching her black purse. Apparently running was out of the question. We drove off and her black skirt receded into the distance. I moved over to where she had been sitting and put my hand on her seat. There was no visible wetness, but it was very damp. There was no doubt she had leaked. I wanted to write this story from her perspective, so I could imagine what happened at the gas station, whether she made it, but that would deviate too much from the actual events.
Once we were there, we had to wait outside the sports hall where the event was held for hours; we were way too early. Everyone was drinking on a football field, with nowhere to relieve oneself. Another perfect setup for desperation, but I didn't see anything.
Thea reappeared a few hours later. She was still in the same clothes and acted like nothing happened. |
The First chapter of a story I'm writing for an ab/dl Card Captor Sakura contest on Deviant art. Thought I'd post it as I write it and see what you guys think. (I've never actually seen the show)
Day One
Sakura Kinimoto and Syaoran Li stood outside of Tomeoda City Orphanage, each over encumbered with large boxes of brand new toys, courtesy of the president of Daidouji Toy Store, Tomoyo’s mom.
“It’s so nice of your mom to give all these gifts to the kids at the orphanage.” Sakura said struggling underneath the weight of the box she was carrying.
“But you could at least help carry some of this stuff.” Syaoran grumbled at the black haired girl, who stood empty handed beside them, except for the video camera.
“I want to capture the look on those kids faces when our very own CardCaptor Sakura brings them boxes upon boxes of brand new toys.” Tomoyo said zooming in on Sakura’s blushing face while ignoring the boy’s comments about how he too was a cardcaptor bringing in toys.
“Sakura, is that you?” A woman’s voice asked as the door before them opened inviting the trio inside.
“Miss Mizuki?” Sakura said judging by the woman’s voice as she couldn’t see over the top of the box she was carrying. “What are you doing here?”
“Yes, I volunteer here on the weekends..” Their math teacher explained leading them into a room full of young children.
“Tomoyo’s mom sent us here to deliver a bunch of toys for the kids.” Sakura said. “There’s more in the van parked out front. These are for the little kids.” she said reading a note attached to the box explaining the age range of the contents inside.
“That’s so nice of her!” Miss Mizuki said grinning from ear to ear. “The children will be so happy, but can we wait until after quiet time to start handing them out? I don’t want the little ones all wound up before I put them down for their nap.”
“Aww, looks like someone’s already down for the count.” Tomoyo said pointing over to a little brown haired girl nodding off in the corner as she sat with her back against the wall of the nursery.
Miss Mizuki let out a heavy sigh as she glanced over the the young child with an anxious look. “I have no idea who that is.” She admitted. “I found her standing in the street by herself when I was driving over here.”
“What?” Tomoyo said looking at the girl with a frown. “What was she doing wandering around by herself? She looks like she’s only three or four.”
“I don’t know.” Miss Mizuki said shaking her head as she approached the young child and bent down besides her to whisper something in her ear before lifting up her little pink dress to reveal the damp pull-up underneath.
“Poor thing.” Sakura said with frown. “Any idea who she is?”
“She says her name is Sara. That’s all she’s really said so far, she just seems so exhausted ever since I found her. I tried calling the police station, but they said there hasn’t been any reports of any missing children. They said in the meantime she should stay here, until we figure out who she belongs to.” The woman explained lifting the child up in her arms and carrying her over to the changing table in the corner.
“Aww,.” Tomoyo said panning the camera around from the small child on the changing table to the Sakura staring transfixed at the little girl. “She’s so cute, isn’t she? I can’t believe anyone would just leave her in the middle of the road like that.” Sakura nodded her head in agreement as she made eye contact with the small child who suddenly began to panic.
“Hold still, little one.” Miss Mizuki said as the young girl suddenly began squirming and thrashing about. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay. My, where’d all this energy come from?” She asked, abandoning the change and picking her up as she began to slowly pat her back and whisper to her until she calmed down. “What’s got you so worked up, huh?”
“The change!” The girl mumbled into the woman’s shoulder.
“Oh, it’s okay, little one. Just calm down, it will be over before you know it. I need to get you changed into a nice dry diaper so I can put you down for a nap. Doesn’t a nice nap sound good? You were falling asleep just a minute ago.” Miss Mizuki whispered gently bouncing her up and down on her shoulder. “Tomoyo, would you mind making a bottle for her?”
“No problem!” Tomoyo said eagerly as she bounded down the hallway to the kitchen.
“Change!” Sara said again with wide eyes glued to the older girl.
“All right! Let’s get you all nice and clean.” Miss Mizuki agreed lying her back down on the changing table as she pushed the little pink dress up and tore away the wet pull up. Sakura watched with curiosity at the little girl, who blushed and squirmed while the kind and caring math teacher wiped her clean with a wet wipe, before rolling up the used garment and throwing it in the diaper pail that sat next to the changing table. “I think these should fit you.” The woman said pulling out a white diaper with stars on it and opening it up before lifting the little girl up by the legs and sliding it underneath her. Next she added a dash of baby powder and taped it up securely around her waist. “”All done! See, that wasn’t so bad.”
Sakura smiled at the scene before her. She was cute she agreed, but there was just something a bit off about the situation. Who leaves a toddler in the middle of the street alone? A sudden commotion from the other side of the room snapped her from her train of thought and Miss Mizuki let out a sigh.
“Would you mind holding her for me?” She asked before depositing the small girl in her arms as she left to break up the commotion.
The little girl immediately began to squirm as she tried to fight her way out of the older girls grip. “Hey, calm down, what’s wrong?” The ten year old asked as she struggled to contain the thrashing child.
“Change, loop, time. little” The girl said over and over trying her best to escape.
“What? I don’t understand.” Sakura said feeling puzzled as she felt someone tugging on her dress. She turned to see a small boy grinning and lifting up something in his cupped hands to show her. “What have you got there?” Sakura asked smiling down at the little boy.
“Look at the lizard I caught!” The boy exclaimed removing his top hand to show the little blue chameleon with wide orange eyes staring up at her and the little girl who was thrashing and throwing a fit within her grip as the little lizard opened it’s mouth wide.
“Thanks, Sakura, I’ve got her.” Miss Mizuki said taking the suddenly still little girl from her arms and laying her down on one of the many mats that now covered the floor before covering her with a blanket.
“You ready to go?” Syaoran asked suddenly appearing besides the stunned looking girl while tucking an envelope in his jacket pocket. “You okay, Sakura?”
“Huh, oh yeah, I just felt weird for a minute.” Sakura answered slowly.
“Don’t be getting sick.” He answered before turning his attention to Miss Mizuki. “So all the toys have been unloaded and are waiting for you in the hall. We’ll see you Monday.” he said before hurrying Sakura and Tomoyo out.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Syaoran had been grumbling to himself as he had been unloading the van- by himself of course. Why had it even surprise him that the girl’s had left him to do all the heavy lifting? When he had painstakingly stacked the last box in the lobby he let out a sigh of relief while wiping the sweat off his brow. It was going to be a hot summer he thought.
“Hey, mister, what’s that?” A little girl had asked him pointing towards the boxes.
“It’s a surprise.” he said giving the little girl a smile. She couldn’t have been more than five or six.
“Are they toys?” She asked looking up at him with large brown eyes.
“Maybe,” he said.
“I’m supposta’ give you sumthin.” She said lifting up her little pink dress and pulling an envelope out of her white panties. Syaoran scrunched his face up in disgust as he debated taking the envelope from her outstretched hand.
“Err, what is it?” he asked looking at the envelope with distaste.
“Dunno, I was told ta give it to the boy bringing in toys. She told me to keep it somewhere no one would find it.” Syaoran took it reluctantly- it could have been worse, it could have come from a diaper- and opened the envelope to find a note along with the two Clow Cards.
Catch The Loop
“What the…” he mumbled examining the contents. “The Big and The Change?” The Big was Sakura’s card and neither of them had caught The Change yet. Where did these come from? And what did Catch the Loop mean? “Who told you to give these to me?” he asked.
“The new girl.” she answered rocking back and forth on her heels. He looked up and into the nursery at the struggling child in Sakura’s arms, who flailed in a panic like her life depended on it. Something fishy was going on and he was going to get to the bottom of it.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………..
“Sakura, what’s with you, today? You’ve been totally spacing out.” Tomoyo asked setting her camera down.
“Oh, sorry, I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” Sakura answered. “There’s something strange about that little girl from earlier today.”
“Poor kid,” Tomoyo agreed, “I hope her parents are thrown in jail for abandoning her like that.”
“She seems familiar somehow.” Sakura said mumbling more to herself than to her best friend.
“You know her?”
“I don’t think so.” She responded. “There’s just something off, I can’t really explain it. It was like I could sense some kind of magical presence from her.”
“Do you think she’s a Clow Card?” Tomoyo asked wide eyed at the prospect of filming another magical battle featuring her favorite subject.
“I don’t think so, what do you think, Kero?” Sakura asked turning her attention at the yellow and winged, lion-like creature that sat completely immobile on the edge of the bed, eyes glued in front of the giant television.
“Yeah, okay,” Kero said in a lifeless monotone voice, keeping his full attention on the screen. Sakura sighed and shook her head. So this was why he wanted to come to the girls’ sleepover so bad. It was for Tomoyo’s wall mounted television.
“You’re not going to stay up all night watching Sailor Moon, are you?” Sakura asked. She let out another exasperated sigh- after getting nothing but a grunt in confirmation- before climbing underneath the covers with Tomoyo. The two girls watched a few episodes themselves before Sakura’s eyes began to burn. She thought of the little girl one last time before closing her eyes and drifting off to sleep. |
Day Two
The first thing Sakura became aware of was the sound of noisy little children. She quietly moaned while turning on her side and lifting the thin wool blanket up over her head. Wait, what happened to Tomoya’s down comforter? And when had her friends massive luxurious bed, that usually refused to let her leave in the morning, become so uncomfortable? She slowly opened her eyes to the morning light shining in through the window. This wasn’t Tomoyo’s room she realized as she glanced around at the rows of cots pushed against the walls that were decorated with sleeping sheep and stars. Where was she? She sat completely still looking around like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Oh no, I’ve been sleepwalking,” she mumbled to herself. Where had all these Pre-school age kids come from? Suddenly the overheads lights flicked on as an adult made their way into the room. Miss Mizuki?
“Good morning, boys and girls. It’s time to wakey wakey!” She announced slowly sweeping the room with her eyes as if to make sure everyone was accounted for. What was she going to say when she found Sakura sleeping with a bunch of Preschoolers? Would she get in trouble for breaking and entering?...wherever she was. Her heart beat rapidly in her chest as Miss Mizuki’s eyes came closer and closer to meeting her own...until they passed over her as if nothing was out of place.
What was going on? Clearly finding a ten-year-old sleeping in a room full of toddlers would be cause for alarm, wouldn’t it? Had she volunteered to stay and keep on eye on them and simply not remembered? She racked her brain as best as she could, but all she could remember was falling asleep in Tomoyo’s room. Clearly Miss Mizuki had not noticed her. What should she do in this situation? Should she sneak out? But what if she really had volunteered? Would people think she was abandoning her job duties… whatever those might have been.
Sakura swallowed from her spot on her cot as she slowly raised her hand, as if she was trying to get her teacher's attention in the classroom. She supposed it was best to make her presence known. The faster she alerted the person in charge of this mix up, the faster it could get resolved.
Sakura waved her hand back and forth as Miss Mizuki smiled and began to approach. At least she doesn’t seem upset that I’m here. she thought feeling a bit relieved.
“Good Morning, sweetie.” The red headed woman said smiling down at the girl. “Is there something you need?”
“Umm, where am I?” Sakura asked with a blush at being called “sweetie.” Miss Mizuki frowned a bit as she sat on the edge of the cot while maintaining eye contact.
“You’re at the orphanage, sweetie, remember?” she said.
“Why am I here?” Sakura asked scrunching her face in confusion. She remembered leaving here yesterday with her friends. When had she come back?
“I found you yesterday in the street so I brought you here. A toddler shouldn’t be out wandering the streets alone.” she said patting the girl's’ head. Hold on, did she say toddler? Sakura thought. “I know waking up in a new place can be scary, but you’re in good hands here, don’t worry.” Miss Mizuki said mistaking the contorted look on the girl's face for fear. “We’ll get this all sorted out.”
Sakura sat motionless on the cot. What in the world was going on? Did her teacher really not recognize her? She wanted so badly to open up her mouth and explain that this was some kind of misunderstanding, but all she could do was sit there in stunned silence.
A sudden thought crossed her mind. Tomoyo was playing a prank on her. She definitely had the resources and the manpower to bring her here in her sleep. Her friend was probably filming the whole thing right now. It was the only explanation that made sense. Oh, she was good! Sakura would have to think of a way to get her back someday. For now though, she’d let her have her fun and see how long they’d drag it out for.
“Okay,” Sakura said going along with it.
“Thank you for being so brave, Sara.” Miss Mizuki said glad to see a smile on the girl's face for the first time. “Now how about I get you cleaned up. That diaper looks like it’s going to leak.”
“What?” Sakura asked before looking down and noticing she was only wearing a T-shirt and...d-diaper!? WHAT? Not only was she in a diaper, but she was in a soaked one!
Did she really wet the bed? This had to be a part of the prank! Did Tomoyo stick her hand in warm water last night? The girls had often threatened each other during their many sleepovers that the first person who fell asleep would become victim to a prank.
“Can I ask you something?” The long red haired woman asked with a kind and gentle smile .
“Sure,” Sakura answered, momentarily in awe by the tender loving features on the beautiful woman’s face. I hope I can grow up to be as pretty as her someday, she thought.
“Are you potty trained yet?” she asked. Sakura sat there dumbfounded as her face began to glow bright red in embarrassment. How could she ask her ten-year-old student that with a straight face?
“O-of course I am!” Sakura nearly shouted. Just because she had had one accident while she was asleep…
“You could have told me you had to go potty.” Miss Mizuki said. “Since you wet all the trainers yesterday, I was starting to think you weren't. Maybe it was because you were so tired.” She said thinking for a moment, “So how about I get you all nice and cleaned up, and you wear trainers again today just in case.Just tell me when you have to go potty and i’ll take you, alright?”
Sakura could only nod her head. Why was she treating her like a toddler? Was this part of the joke?
“Up you go then.” Miss Mizuki said lifting her up onto her hip with ease while surprising Sakura so much she clung to the woman. Shrine maidens must be really strong, she thought after Miss Mizuki had picked her up as if she weighed hardly anything at all. How many women did she know who could pick up a ten-year- old like it was nothing? Must be from all the archery, she thought.
Sakura smiled slightly as she clung to her teacher. This was kind of nice, she thought while resting her head against the woman's body. She closed her eyes and focussed on the sensation of arms wrapped securely around her body. When was the last time she had felt the loving embrace of a woman’s arms? Not since her mother had...NO, she didn’t want to think about that.
Before Sakura knew it, her ride came to an end as she was laid down on the changing table. Wow, she thought, this thing must be huge to be able to accommodate me lying down with ease. “Not let us get that wet diaper changed..” Miss Mizuki said humming as she pushed up Sakura’s pink T- shirt.
Wait...Diaper change? NO! She couldn’t go through something so embarrassing! No doubt Tomoyo was filming this while hiding behind some corner she thought as she struggled to get away.
“Oh, no you don’t” The woman said before holding her down with one hand and strapping the struggling child with the other. “Now, are you going to let me change your diaper or are you going to be difficult again?”
Sakura sighed as she rolled her now pink face away from the stern woman as she faced the wall. There was no way she could fight her way out of it if she was powerless underneath a single hand. The most Sakura could do was not give Tomoyo the satisfaction of filming her face during this humiliating ordeal.
“That’s it, it’ll be over soon.” Miss Mizuki said while tearing away the tabs of the girls used diaper and cleaning her up. After unceremoniously being stripped, cleaned in places she didn’t want others cleaning her, powdered and placed in a pink pull-up, Sakura was finally set on the ground. The girl let out a startled gasp. How did she only reach the woman’s waist? No, this couldn’t be right she thought as she raced to the full length mirror hanging by the changing table. She stared silently at her reflection for what felt like several minutes before Miss Mizuki carried her away.
The reason her teacher was treating her like a toddler was, according to the mirror's reflection, she was one. |
Tomoyo stretched her limbs while letting out a great, big yawn. “Good morning,” She mumbled to no one in particular as she sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Kero! Have you been watching Sailor Moon all night?” she asked the lion with the blood shot eyes.
“Fighting evil by moonlight, winning love by daylight.” Kero half-mumbled and half-sang as another episode began playing.
“Ugh, can you believe him?” Tomoyo began to ask the girl next to her, but froze as she stared at the strange sight in front of her. “Umm, Sakura, a-are you okay?” She asked concerned at the sight of her friend staring blankly at the television while sucking her thumb. “Kero. Kero!” Tomoyo moaned at the unresponsive “guardian” before getting out of bed and switching the television off.
“Hey! There’s still 137 episodes to go!” He complained as he finally pried his eyes off the television set.
“There’s something wrong with Sakura!” Tomoyo said sounding annoyed. Kero looked over and stared wide eyed at the sight before him. The girl, whom he had entrusted as the next master of the Clow Cards, was sucking her thumb and waving at him by bending three of her fingers that were not currently shoved in her mouth.
“Hi,” she mumbled shyly while grinning, drool slowly dripping from her mouth down to her chin.
“Sakura?” Tomoyo asked while exchanging a worried look with Kero.
Sakura looked at her blankly for a moment before removing her thumb. “I’m wet,” she announced unabashed. Tomoyo stared at her a moment with a puzzled expression on her face.
“What do you mean, ‘you’re wet’?” Kero asked suspiciously as his eyes narrowed while flying over the massive bed towards her. Sakura giggled and tried to snatch him out of the air as if he were a toy. “You don’t think she…?” he asked while dodging Sakura’s fumbled attempts of catching him.
“I went pee pee.” Sakura said as if it was the most mundane thing in the world before sticking her thumb back in her mouth. Tomoyo paled at her friend's’ statement before pulling back the covers to reveal Sakura sitting in the middle of a large damp patch of bedding. Yes, she thought, Sakura had indeed gone “pee pee”. Tomoyo pinched together the bridge of her nose. What in the world had happened to her friend?
“Gross,” Kero said as his face scrunched up with disgust.
“Uh-oh,” Tomoyo said looking up in time to see Sakura’s eyes beginning to water before letting out a loud wail. “Sakura? Sakura, what’s wrong?” Tomoyo asked after sitting for a moment in stunned silence. “Kero, what’s wrong with her?” she asked after pulling the girl into a hug as an attempt to soothe her.
“M-m-my d-d-diaper leaked.” Sakura cried as she rested her head against Tomoyo’s shoulder and allowed herself to be rocked back and forth.
“Sakura, you’re not wearing a diaper.”
“But I always wear a diaper for night night time.” she said matter of factly. Tomoyo looked over to Kero for some kind of conformation, but this looked like news to him. “We’ve had lots of sleepovers and she’s never worn a diaper before.” Tomoyo said thinking back. “Why is she acting like this?”
“I don’t know.” Kero said after thinking for a moment.
“Do you think the stress of being a Cardcaptor is too much for her and she’s having some kind of mental breakdown?” Tomoyo asked.
“Don’t say that! It would mean my only hope of gathering all the Clow Cards rests in the hands of that Kid” Kero said with a scowl. “Snap out of it, Sakura!” Kero yelled grabbing onto the collar of her night shirt and shaking her.
“Kero, stop it!” Tomoyo scolded as Sakura began to cry again. “Let’s just try and think this through. Could a Clow Card have done this? Is there a card that makes you little?”
“There is, but only physically. It wouldn’t turn her mind younger.” Kero said tapping his chin. “It’s more like she swapped minds...I have an idea!” He said flying over to Sakura’s bag and pulling out her staff that was no larger than a key chain. “Sakura, do you remember the magic words to make this bigger?”
Sakura stared at it for a moment. There was something floating around in her mind about “magic words,” if only she could remember. Suddenly a large smile crossed her face as she nodded her head with vigor.
“What are they?” Kero asked.
“Moon. Prism. POWER!” Sakura shouted causing Kero to laugh and Tomoyo to cover her face with her hands.
“You’ve fried her brain by playing Sailor Moon all night while she was asleep.”
“No, I didn’t” Kero said rolling his eyes. “It’s not Sakura.” He said confidently. “And you’re right, it was a Clow Card that did this.”
“It’s not Sakura?” Tomoyo asked confused. “What’s your name?” She asked her friend, who was currently busy excavating her nasal cavities with her finger.
“Sara,” the girl answered while staring at her prize,
“Sara was the name of the toddler at the orphanage!” Tomoyo said ignoring the fact that the girl had wiped her finger on her bedding. It was ruined anyway, she figured. She’d just have to ask her mom to buy her a new bed.
“Then Sakura and Sara probably came into contact with The Change.” Kero said breathing a sigh of relief.
“Change” Sara repeated.
“She’s all yours!” Kero said with a grimace. “And get her some diapers!” He shouted as Tomoyo took her by the hand and led her to the bathroom to get her cleaned up. Wait, she thought, so a toddler’s mind was in the body of Sakura? Tomoya grinned widely as she realized the opportunity she had been presented with.
“So once we get you all cleaned up, do you want to play dress up?” she asked eagerly.
“Yay, dress up!” Sara cheered as Kero shook his head.
“We ARE going to have to change her back you know!” Kero yelled through the closed bathroom door.
“Just get me my video camera, it should be in my closet!” Tomoyo yelled back. “Oh, we are going to have so much fun today!”
“Here,” mumbled Kero as Tomoyo opened the door to take the camera.
“That’s weird.” she said with a frown, “it says it’s memories full.”
“You’re obsessed with that thing, what’s so weird about that?” Kero asked with his arms crossed. “Sakura just traded minds with a toddler and you think your camera running out of storage is weird?” he said sarcastically.
“This thing holds like 10, 000 hours of footage. It’s top of the line.” She said with a frown.
“Yeah, we get it, you’re rich” He said rolling his eyes.
“I just uploaded all the footage to my computer last night. It should be empty.” Tomoyo said clicking through the memory as her face turned paler and paler.
“What? What is it?” Kero said noticing the look on the girl's face.. He had never seen her make that face before.
“Look.” Tomoyo said handing him the camera with trembling arms as she raced to her computer. Kero hit play as he watched the video of a day's outing. “Boring,” he mumbled while hitting fast forward. They went to the store and bought diapers and a bag, Tomoyo bought what felt like ten pounds of clothes for Sakura to model in, and then they came home. Wait a minute...diapers and a diaper bag?
“I don’t get it.” Kero said.
“Play the day before!” Tomoyo said with wide eyes.
“It’s the same thing.” Kero said. “So what? You accidentally taped over your old footage.”
“Kero,” she said trembling, “All the videos are the same, the only difference is our clothes, Those videos show exactly where I was planning on taking Sakura today.”
“If these videos really are all the same, you’d have like a bagillion bags of diapers in your closet and I was just in there. No diapers, see.” Kero said opening the closet door.
“K-K-Kero!” Tomoyo said with wide eyes as she pointed her finger in the closet.
“No, tell me you’re joking.” he said before turning his head to look inside the closet at the piles upon piles of opened diapers and diaper bags of a variety of different colors.
“Kero, is there a Clow Card that would do this?” She asked barely above a whisper.
“Yeah,” He answered after he recovered from shock. “And it’s not a good one.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“The Loop. You spend every day repeating itself without knowing. So… how much footage did you say that camera held?”
“10, 000 hours, so if we filmed all day, everyday for 8 hours, according to my camera…”
“It‘s been three years.” |
Sakura smiled widely while she sat in the circle with all the other Pre-school age kids. Being little, she had quickly discovered, was awesome! Sure, it had startled her at first; it wasn’t everyday you woke up a fraction of the size you used to be after all. After a morning full of cuddles, crafts, coloring, games and snacks- she was living the good life! Sakura was in absolutely no hurry to go back. She’d figure out what happened eventually, but for now, she just wanted to enjoy this time of being a little kid again.
The best part about it, she quickly decided, was that there was no math. Three year olds, which she guessed she was, were not expected to know long division with decimals or pre-algebra. Three year olds were just expected to play and have fun; which was exactly what she had planned to do! The only thing that really bothered her about being a three year old was that they were not very coordinated.
She had been trying to show off her gymnastic prowess by doing a frontflip off a table- something her normal body could have pulled off no problem. Her little body...not so much. Almost as soon as she launched herself off she knew she was in trouble. As soon as her little body had leapt into the air it had refused to listen to further commands as Sakura landed on her butt with a loud poof from her pull-up. It hadn’t really hurt, what with the cushion and all; but it had surprised her so much she started crying.
It was mid wail that she had discovered the runner up pro’s and con’s of being a three year old.
PRO: No one had told her to walk it off. No one had told her to suck it up either. Miss Mizuki had come running to her rescue, scooped her up off the floor, and held her in her arms until every last tear was long gone and dried. Sakura almost felt like crying again as soon as she was set back down so she could continue being held.
The Con: Three year olds had tiny bladders. So tiny, in fact, that even after having been accident free for six long years, she had wet her pull-up from the shock of the fall. She hadn’t even known she had, until Miss Mizuki lifted up her dress to check her...in front of everyone. Sakura didn’t know why she had felt so embarrassed in front of a group of nose pickers with imaginary friends- but she had.
Sakura had also wished she had been changed in private instead of on a table in front of everyone, but mostly she wished the woman, whom she looked up to the most, had not looked so disappointed in her. It was then that Sakura decided she must not- under any circumstances- reveal her true identity. A quick kiss to the top of her head and a gentle push on the back, towards the group, had let her know it had just been her imagination though. Whosever body she currently occupying sure was emotional.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………
“Duck...duck...duck…” The young black haired girl with pigtails said as she circled the group for what felt like the fifth time already. Sakura wished she would just pick someone already; the suspense was killing her! Not to mention she really had to pee for the last 20 minutes. She’d go as soon as this round was over she told herself; (as she told herself every round for the last five rounds now) she couldn’t just get up and go mid turn after all. She’d break the circle and the circle was sacred! You do NOT get up unless you were picked- it was the rules afterall. Only the chosen could leave the circle.
“Duck...duck...duck…” By another two laps, Sakura was sitting on her heels rocking back and forth from her spot on the ground. Please hurry, she mentally begged. A sudden tap on her shoulder distracted her from the game as she looked up to see Miss Mizuki offering her a hand up.
“C’mon, Sara, I recognize that squirm from a mile away. Let’s take a break and go potty.” she said pulling the young girl to her feet. Adult interference- the only other excusable exit from the circle. She was saved!...at least she thought she was- until she got halfway across the room and had to stop and cross her legs. Had she mentioned how tiny a three year olds bladder was? “You’re not going to make it, are you?” Miss Mizuki said sounding disappointed in her.
“I’ll make it!” Sakura said taking a small step forward; only to be forced to stop again and double over.
“New plan, you wait right here” the red headed woman said leaving and quickly returning with a large, pink, plastic contraption in hand. Sakura frowned as she realized what it was when it was set down in front of her. She couldn’t be serious. Miss Mizuki wanted her to go here? Out in the open? With a group of onlookers a mere 20 feet away...she couldn’t. She wouldn’t!
“I wanna use the toilet!” Sakura insisted.
“Well then you shouldn’t have waited so long.” Miss Mizuki countered while motioning with her hand for her to sit down on it. Sakura bit her lip as she stared at the pink, Hello Kitty, toddler potty. Nope! No way she thought- she refused! Sakura pouted as she crossed her arms in defiance, only leaving herself open, she realized, a moment too late. In what seemed like the blink of an eye, Miss Muziki had turned her around, tore away her pull-up, and gently pushed her back so that she had no choice but to sit down on the plastic potty. Although her brain wanted to resist and complain, her tiny body seemed to willingly accept it’s place upon the portable commode as a tinkling sound could be heard. Sakura immediately jammed her legs closed as an attempt to muffle the sound as she stared ahead wide eyed in surprise and embarrassment.
“Good job, sweetie.” Miss Mizuki whispered in her ear as she bent down and patted Sakura’s head while slightly ruffling her short, brown, wavy hair in the process. “Next time let’s try not to cut it so close, hmm?” she said once Sakura had finished only serving to deepen the shade of red on the little girl's cheeks. “Now wait here while I take care of this. I’ll be right back to get you dressed.” Miss Mizuki said after helping up the little girl and then disappearing into another room with the potty.
Good riddance to it, Sakura thought as she waited impatiently so she could get re-dressed and continue their game. She stood awkwardly to the side of the room holding her short dress down to cover herself as she watched the other children play. It appeared she had not missed anything while she was gone as the exact same girl was still circling the crowd chanting “Duck..duck..duck."
“Sara, I’m going to leave this here for you.” Miss Mizuki said reappearing as she set the now empty and cleaned plastic potty against the wall.” I think you tend to get a little too distracted playing, so I’m going to leave it here for you as a reminder to go potty.” she explained after seeing the large frown on the girl's face. “I want you to come use it whenever you think you might have to go.”
“I can use the toilet!” Sakura argued as Miss Mizuki led her by the hand to the changing table.
“I know you say that, but honey, you’ve been here nearly two days and that was the closest you’ve been to making it.” she said lifting Sakura up by the waist and laying her down on the cushioned table. “It’s normal for kids your age to take a step back with toileting habits while going through a hard time.” she explained dusting her with baby powder and pulling out a diaper. “It’s almost naptime, so I think I’ll just get you ready now.”
Sakura let out a long yawn at the mention of a nap. It had been a long morning full of ups and downs. So much so in fact that a nap actually didn’t sound like that bad of an idea, she thought as she was lifted up in the woman’s arms. “Do you want to go play for a few more minutes?” Miss Mizuki asked patting the girl’s diapered bottom while Sakura buried her head in the crook of the woman’s neck, inhaling the lovely aroma of her perfume. Sakura shook her head no as she closed her eyes. “Do you want me to put you down for a nap now?”
“No,” Sakura mumbled clinging on tighter to her teacher.
“Then tell me what you want to do.”
“Stay like this,” Sakura mumbled. Miss Mizuki smiled as she took a seat in the chair across from the other children playing as she re-positioned Sakura, so that her chin was resting on her shoulder, as she slowly rubbed up and down the girl’s back. Miss Mizuki softly hummed as Sakura quickly drifted off to sleep. |
“Alright, let’s not panic.” Tomoyo said pacing back and forth.
“How are we not supposed to panic?” Kero asked clutching his head sd his wings beat at the speed of a humming birds. “It’s been three years, the Clow Cards are probably long gone by now!”
“Has it really been three years if everyday is the same?” Tomoyo asked. “Look, October 3rd, everyday has been October 3rd.”
“Yeah, that’s the Loop.” Kero said in a defeated tone.
“So then what about yesterday? Would it be October 2nd or October 3rd?”
“Well, I guess technically it would be October 2nd.” he said stopping his fluttering about to think it through.
“I have a crazy idea” Tomoyo said, “I’ll need Syaoran's help to make it work.” she said ignoring Kero’s displeased expression. “We need to change Sakura back, but we can’t without his help.”
“I don’t know if we can,” Kero said. “The Change can only use its powers once a day, but it technically hasn’t been a full day because it keeps repeating.”
“But didn’t you say Sara and Sakura came into contact with The Change yesterday the 2nd?”
“Yes, but the change doesn’t take effect until its powers are active at midnight, but it never reaches midnight because it just loops back to morning. “
“Doesn’t Sakura have a card that can go back in time?” Tomoyo asked as her head began to spin. All these cards and powers were so confusing!
“Hmm, yes, technically it could go back a full 24 hours, but Sakura has only ever been able to go back in time a few minutes. The amount of magic that is needed is extraordinary, not to mention Sakura’s not…”
“I’M NAKEY!” A voice rang out giggling as a nude figure streaked across the bedroom leaving the other two wide eyed and blushing fiercely.
“I rest my case.” Kero said once he recovered. “Tomoyo, focus!” he said as he saw the girl reaching for her video camera.
“But...but...look at that butt!” Tomoyo argued pointing to the girl who now was bent over, naked bum waving in the air as she attempted to peek underneath the bed.
“Just….just get her dressed.” Kero mumbled looking away with a blush.
“While I am doing that, call Syaoran!”
“Why do I have to call that Kid?”
“Would you rather be dealing with her?” Tomoyo asked gesturing to the 10 year old girl now raiding her panty drawer while widely grinned as she donned a polka dot pair on her head.
“Fine.” he said relenting as he picked up the phone after dialing the number saved for him.
“Hello,” an exhausted sounding voice answered after a couple of rings.
“Look, Kid, Tomoyo wants your help with something.” Kero barked before there was nothing but silence on the other end for quite some time.
“Kero, is that you?”
“Yeah, look, are you coming or not?”
“I’ll be right there” he answered after another pause. “How’s Sakura? Is she still…?”
“Yeah, she’s still little...wait a minute! How did you know?” Kero asked suspiciously. A heavy sigh could be heard from the other end.
“She’s been little for a very long time, I go visit her in the orphanage whenever I can but…” He said before pausing. “Even though she isn’t aware it’s been three years...it’s still taken a toll on her mentally. She’s regressed pretty far since we’ve been stuck in the loop.”
“How did you know we’ve been stuck in the loop? How long have you known?” Kero demanded.
“I’ve known all along.” Syaoran admitted after another heavy sigh. “Because I’m the one who got us stuck in it.”
………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
“You little…!” Kero shouted ready to rip him apart as soon as Syaoran appeared in the doorway.
“Is someone going to explain what’s going on?” Tomoyo asked.
“It’s my fault, I should have told Sakura about it.” Syaoran admitted hanging his head in shame. “I tried to fight it by myself because I wanted to keep the card. I’m sorry, I know you don’t know, but I’ve been avoiding you for so long because of this.”
“You’ve been aware this entire time?” Tomoyo asked him in shock as he nodded his head. She took in his worn down features. His face seemed paler, his eyes had dark bags underneath them and he looked exhausted. “You’ve lost weight.” she noticed.
“I’ve been fighting with the Loop everyday, but it’s no use. I’ve found the spot where it intersects, but I need another person. My sword isn’t enough to break through, I need Sakura.”
“She’s not exactly fit to fight at the moment.” Kero said sarcastically.
“But the Sakura of yesterday is.” Tomoyo pointed out.
“That would take a whole lot of magic.” Kero said.
“What if Sara and Syaoran combined powers and joint casted? We could send Syaoran into the past and…”Tomoyo tried.
“While It’s true Sara is occupying Sakura’s body and magic stash, I doubt she could cast any magic. I could tap into her powers by holding hands, but it would take so much of my magic, I doubt I would even remain conscious afterwards. Sara would have to be the one to go, we could send her back with a note to give someone.”
“We can’t send her anywhere like this.” Kero argued.
“It’s okay...I’ll go.” Sara said shocking the group. “I… understand...I’ll...get help.”
……………………………………………………………………………………………….
The hooded figure with the hourglass stood before the group “Are you sure?” It asked Syaoran as he nodded his head in confirmation.
“Remember to give this to the people bringing in toys.” Tomoyo reminded her as she handed Sara the envelope.
“Time will take you in front of the orphanage a little bit before we arrive. Are you ready?” Syaoran asked. She nodded and soon after he completed the spell as time and Sara disappeared into the past. Syaoran stumbled a bit before collapsing to the ground. He had just used more magic than he ever had before, even with draining magic out of Sakura’s body. “It’s up to her now.” he said before losing consciousness.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Memories slowly flooded into the girl’s mind as she laid flat on her back on the pavement. How did she get here? Where was she? Who was she? A name popped into the back of her aching head. It had been so long since anyone had called her anything but Sara. How had she even gotten that name she wondered. She couldn’t remember. The girl painfully moved her neck to the side and saw the envelope she clutched in her hand. That’s right! Now she remembered. She was here on a mission! She slowly peeled herself off the pavement. It felt like she had been hit by a truck. Was this because she had used too much magic?
A sudden giggle from up above sent chills down her back. She craned her neck and got a glimpse of a little yellow pixie looking creature hovering up above her.
“No! Please, no!” the girl begged. She was too weak to fight the Clow Card on her own. How many times must she go through this? She had tried to fight, to run, and even bribe her way out of this situation before, but all had ended with the same result.
“We’re going to have so much fun together.” The Clow Card known as The Little said. “But first, I need to do something about your size.”
“No,” the girl said as she tried pointlessly to get away. She felt herself shrinking as her body began closing the distance towards herself and the pavement. How could she let this happen again? She could hear a car approaching as the Clow Card took off. The car engine turned off as the driver got out of the vehicle to find the little girl standing in the street.
“You poor thing,” the woman said tucking her long red hair behind her ear before picking her up. “What’s your name sweetie?” the woman asked.
“Sakura,” the girl answered even though she knew it would be pointless.
“Sara, huh, that’s a pretty name. My name is Miss Mizuki and I’m going to take you somewhere safe.”
The End |
New Ending
“How will we know it worked?” Tomoyo asked sitting atop the brand new bed her mother had bought no questions asked.
“I’m not entirely sure.” Kero admitted fluttering about the room. “I think Time will have restored everything to the proper order. For instance, we shouldn’t remember any of this.”
“But if the loop is re-setting everything, wouldn’t we forget everything as well?” Syaoran asked.
“That’s why we have to fix this today!” Kero said. “It’s early afternoon, we have time.”
“Hey, Kero, there’s something that’s been bothering me lately.” Syaoran said. “I’ve been doing some research about the Clow Cards, shouldn’t the Loop only effect space? Why is Time repeating as well?”
“I’ve been wondering the same thing to be honest.” Kero said.
“I have a pretty bad feeling, Kero.” Syaoran said, “Is it possible for two cards to work together?”
“Hmm, I know what you’re getting at, but Time has already been captured by Sakura, it can’t work independently now.”
“But what about before it was captured? Couldn’t it have set up a plan before then?”
“Hey guys…” Tomoyo said.
“It could be a child card…” Kero said thinking about it. “If Loop and Time got together and created an additional card…”
“Aren’t they both guys though?” Syaoran asked. “Wait and Loop isn’t even a human persona! Gross.”
“Get your head out of the gutter, Cards don’t have sex. They can create additional cards by combining their powers. Besides, that’s some big talk coming from someone engaged to their cousin…” Kero said.
“”Hey guys!” Tomoyo said a bit louder.
“Shut up, Kero!” Syaoran growled. “So wait…so we’re not dealing with loop?”
“It’s possible.” Kero said.
“GUY’S!” Tomoyo shouted. “Look!” She said holding a picture.
“What is it?” Syaoran asked.
“Recognize her?” Tomoyo asked holding up the picture frame as Syaoran and Kero took a good look.
“It’s…Sara.” Syaoran said as Tomoyo shook her head.
“No, It’s Sakura. This was mine and Sakura’s first day of preschool together,” Tomoyo explained of the picture of two little girls holding hands.
“What does this mean?” Kero asked.
“Sara was really Sakura from the past?” Syaoran asked.
“No, where did we just send Sakura? In front of the Orphanage, right?” Tomoyo said putting the pieces together in her head. “And where did Miss Mizuki say she found her? In front of the Orphanage! So what if Sara was really Sakura all along?”
“Then how did she end up as a toddler?” Syaoran asked.
“You said yourself she’s been a toddler for so long she believes she is one.”
“But that doesn’t explain how she physically turned into one.” Syaoran said.
“It would if she ran into the little.” Kero said. “What if there was never a toddler there on day zero, we sent Sakura into the past, and then she shrunk and became Sara?”
“So all we have to do is use The Big? Sounds too easy.” Syaoran said. “How do we snap her out of the illusion though? Convince her she’s not really a toddler?”
“The same way we snapped ourselves out of the trance.” Kero said. “With video footage! Tomoyo, I’ve never been so happy you film Sakura to the point of stalking! We’ll show her the footage of herself!”
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Day 2
“Sara, you have a visitor.” Miss Mizuki said bending down and picking the little girl up. “Oh, and you’re still dry, good girl honey.” She said checking her diaper and carrying her over to the two ten year olds waiting. Sakura blushed as she was carried over and buried her head into Miss Mizuki’s neck as they approached the group. “Don’t be shy; they came and saw you yesterday too, remember?” She said setting her down. “You play with them, ok?”
Sakura slowly nodded her head before sticking her thumb in her mouth from nerves. “No, sweetie, don’t suck your thumb, here.” Miss Mizuki said gently removing her hand and replacing it with a pacifier. Sakura smiled and happily sucked away as she stared up at the two big kids. They seemed awfully familiar, but she couldn’t quite place it.
“Sakura, do you remember me?” Syaoran asked bending down and looking the little girl in the eyes. Sakura? Her name was Sara wasn’t it? That’s what the nice red haired lady called her. “I come here every once in a while and we play. Last week we played with blocks. Do you remember?” Sakura shook her head and continued sucking while her large green eyes stared up at them in wonder.
“What about me?” Tomoyo asked squatting down and opening her arms wide, but the little girl stayed where she was and simply stared. “I’ll take that as a no.” She said sadly. “We’re going to show you some video’s, ok? I put some clips together and we’re going to watch them and try and jog your memory.”
“Movie!” Sakura cheered from behind her pacifier as she followed the two big kids while Tomoyo held her hand and led them over to the tv.
“What we’re about to show you is who you really are. You’re name is Sakura, and you’re a card captor. We really need your help, so watch this and try to remember.” Tomoyo explained putting the VHS she made of Sakura’s card captor adventures .
“Movie! Movie!” Sakura cheered as Tomoyo sat down on the city roads rug and brought little Sakura down into her lap. “Yay!” Sakura cheered giggling as Tomoyo squeezed her while rocking her back and forth.
“Part of me doesn’t want you to grow up; you’re too cute!” Tomoyo admitted clicking play on the menu as the three watched.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………….
“Key of Clow, power of magic, power of light, surrender the Wand, the force ignite. Release!” Sakura in the movie chanted as she released the wand and fought with the Shadow Card.
“Me?” Sakura asked craning her neck up at Tomoyo who nodded her head as Sakura continued to watch… well…Sakura. Her eyes grew wide in amazement and wonder as she watched the battle.
“I-I remember.” Sakura said once the video had ended. “I woke up today as a toddler! Tomoyo and Syaoran! I remember!” Sakura said excitedly.
“That’s great, Sakura, but it wasn’t yesterday.” Syaoran said sadly. “You’ve been here for a long time.” He said sadly. “It’s my fault.”
“You’re right, I…I’ve been switching bodies between big and little I think.”
Sakura looked deep in thought as she seemed to be concentrating on something. She gritted her teeth as her face turned bright red.
“Sakura, you don’t have to try that hard to remem-“ Tomoyo said stopping mid sentence as she realized what was going on. “Sakura!” She said holding her arms length away while the little girl finished her business.
“She might remember who she is, but her bodies still on auto-pilot. She’s been in diapers for a long time.” Syaoran said looking grim and covering his nose. “Miss Mizuki!” He yelled as the red headed woman came over.
“Uh-oh, someone needs a change.” Miss Mizuki said lifting the now crying girl in the air. “I’m glad I decided to put you in diapers today.”
“She’s not going to keep doing that when she get’s bigger is she?” Tomoyo asked but remembered Big Sakura also having an accident.
“It’s why I told you to bring one of Big Sakura’s diaper bags.” Syaoran said. “We need her to fight right now, we’ll worry about potty training her later.” He said leading Tomoyo to where Sakura was getting changed.
“It’s ok, it’s ok,” Miss Mizuki said cleaning the little girl up. Syaoran smiled as he pulled her wand out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“Just like in the video, ok?” He said as Sakura sniffled and repeated the chant as the wand grew larger and larger. Miss Mizuki stopped mid change and stared at the three in confusion. Syaoran nodded his approval before pulling The Big out of his pocket. “This will only listen to you, do you remember what to do?” He asked as Sakura nodded and released the card before commanding it to return her to normal.
“S-sakura?” Miss Mizuki asked at the now full sized girl lying on the changing table.
“I-I’m back to normal!” Sakura said jumping up. “Someone tell me what’s been going on? What’s wrong with you?” She asked puzzled as Syaoran face turned different shades.
“Umm, Sakura.” Tomoyo whispered. “We should finish getting you dressed first.” Sakura looked down in confused before shrieking and covering herself with her hands.
“Back up on the table, Sakura.” Miss Mizuki said after snapping out of her stunned silence and tossing the dirty diaper.
“She’s going to need this.” Tomoyo said handing over a bigger diaper out of her bag. “Long story short we’ve been trapped in a time warp, Sakura somehow got shrunk to a toddler and regressed due to being one for so long.”
“If I’m big again, why do I need a diaper?” Sakura asked blushing as her math teacher slid it under her.
“Because you might forget you’re bigger.” Tomoyo explained. “Just earlier you remembered but then pooped yourself.” Sakura covered her face in her hands to hide her blush. “Here’s an outfit for her.”
“All done.” Miss Mizuki said helping to lift up the blushing girl.
“C’mon, we have a fight to win!” Syaoran said before leading them to the scene that started it all.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………
“What are we looking for?” Sakura asked blushing after Tomoyo had to pull her thumb out of her mouth…again.
“Any minute now.” Syaoran said scanning the school court yard. “There! The time warp, c’mon!” He said leading the charge sword in hand. Sakura could see a small patch of distorted scenery that looked a bit blurry looking through. Sakura pulled out the Sword card and summoned it before joining Syaoran’s side.
“We’re going in?” Sakura asked as he nodded his head and the two of them stepped through. Sakura shuddered as an icy chill went through her body as she came out on the other side to find everything distorted with a purple tint.
“There it is.” He said readying his sword at the red ribbon that wrapped around the inside of the town. “C’mon.”
Sakura followed as the two chased the end of the red ribbon. She looked and saw various hour glasses all along the sides of the ribbon. “Are we almost there?” She asked after ten minutes of running in silence. He nodded his head before stopping abruptly. Here is where we need to sever it.” He explained stopping in front of the Orphanage. “When we sent you back in time, I think you also crossed paths with the Loop and created a new card. That’s why the time loop has effected you so much as well. I don’t think you would have regressed as much not realizing you’ve been spending everyday as a toddler.”
“I’m so confused.” Sakura complained but readied her sword anyway. If he was right, everything would go back to the way it was. There would be no Sara or Time Loop. All that would be left was her memories of being a toddler. “I’m ready.” Sakura said. They counted to three and struck the ribbon only managing to sever it a quarter of the way.
“Again!” Syaoran shouted as they struck again and again until they could barely lift their weapons. “Last time, and we’re through!”
“What’s going to happen when we cut it?” Sakura asked between pants.
“Only one way to find out.” Syaoran smiled and together with the last of their strength, they cut through as a blinding white light filled their vision.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
“So Syaoran actually let you keep it?” Tomoyo asked as they laid out on her new bed.
“Yep.” Sakura said holding up the Clow Card that featured an hour glass covered by a red ribbon. “He said it was his way of apologizing for getting us stuck in this situation. Apparently what happened was that he got stuck in the Loop and sent me back in time, only Time and Loops powers mixed creating that time loop.” She said.
“Sakura, no, you’re going to mess up your teeth. How many times do I have to remind you that ten year olds don’t suck their thumbs?” Tomoyo chastised playfully gently pulling Sakura’s hand from her mouth.
“Sorry.” Sakura said blushing. “Ten year olds don’t wear diapers either.” She grumbled.
“You’re not wetting my bed again, you’re still having accidents.” Tomoyo reminded her. “We’ll get you back to normal, don’t worry.” She said patting her friends shoulder. “So what was your favorite part of being little?” She asked giggling.
“Honestly, umm, cuddling.” Sakura answered with a blush. “It felt great to be held, and fall asleep in someone’s arms.” She shyly admitted. “Honestly since I’ve been back to normal I’ve been having a hard time sleeping. I got so used to the affection and now that it’s gone.” She admitted with a depressed sigh.
“Why didn’t you say so? Come here, Sakura,” Tomoyo said guiding her closer with her arms. “Is this better?”
“Thanks, Tomoyo.” Sakura whispered holding her back and resting her head on her friends stomach. “I really miss Miss Mizuki.” She said tearing up.
“You’ll see her in math class.” Tomoyo said running her fingers through Sakura’s hair as the other girl grumbled. “What can I do to help you re-adjust?”
“She would…umm…give me a bottle before bed.” Sakura mumbled barely over a whisper.
“Aww, how cute.” Tomoyo squealed.
“Would…Would you…” Sakura tried to ask but froze.
“You know there happens to be a bottle in the diaper bag.” Tomoyo whispered as Sakura blushed. “Do you want me to give it to you? Sakura?” She asked after not getting a response.
“Yes.” She whispered.
“I’ll be right back.” Tomoyo whispered leaving for a few minutes. Sakura frowned as she began to worry what was taking Tomoyo so long. What if she changed her mind? What if she thinks I’m weird? She worried as her eyes began to tear up and fears danced in her mind.
“Sakura, what’s wrong?’ Tomoyo asked re-appearing after noticing her friends tear streaked face.
“I thought you weren’t going to come back!” Sakura admitted as tears spilled from her eyes.
“Sakura, it’s okay, it’s going to be ok.” Tomoyo said wrapping her arms around her friend. “I know suddenly becoming a big girl again is hard on you, but we can get through it ok. “We’ll get you back to normal. It’ll be ok.” She whispered feeling Sakura’s diaper expanding against her knee.
“No!” Sakura moaned grabbing herself. “Ugh! I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok, just go ahead and finish. Tell me when you’re done and we’ll get you in a fresh one.” Tomoyo said pulling away as Sakura blushed and looked down in embarrassment.
“I’m done.” Sakura mumbled blushing as Tomoyo led her onto a towel on the floor.
“Lay down, I’ll get you cleaned up.” Tomoyo re-assured her as she ripped the tabs off and pulled down away the used diaper before unfolding a fresh one.
“Cold!” Sakura winced as she felt her friend cleaning her up. “Thanks ,Tomoyo” Sakura mumbled when the change was complete. “I’m sorry, I feel like my emotions are all over the place right now.” She sniffled.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s not everyday you go from 10 to 3 to 10 for what seems like three years. If you need something, just ask. That’s what friends are for. Now let’s get some sleep, it’s your first day back to school tomorrow.” Tomoyo said picking up the bottle off the night stand and climbing into bed while patting her lap. Sakura smiled and climbed in on the other side and rested her body in her friends arms. Tomoyo gently lowered the bottle to her friends lips as Sakura closed her eyes and drank. She’s right, I’ll grow back up eventually, but for now I want to enjoy this, Sakura thought before finally drifting off to sleep.
“Goodnight my little cardcaptor.” Tomoyo whispered setting the empty bottle on the nightstand and drifting off to sleep herself. |
Hey. This is an idea I've been brewing for a while now, and felt like writing some stuffs for it. This, of course, is the gateway piece into it. If you like it, don't like it, want to know more, or want to write a piece of your own in this universe, feel free to leave a comment and such.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Rochester 13 is definitely a theater to behold. Located in scenic San Francisco, California, It's got all the furnishings a theater needs: multiple screens, multiple 3D capable projectors, decked-out concession stand, decent arcade with classics, three flippedy IMAX screens, AC, and some of the cleanest changing tables in the state.
If that last thing I mentioned sounded weird, allow me to explain. In this world, for lack of better phrasing, people got fed up with the idea of having to leave a movie to go use the restroom. So, theaters (the Rochester being one of the first) decided to do the most logical thing by chopping up prices, and making thick, stretchy, highly absorbent diapers and popcorn and sodas secretly laced with hyper-laxatives a new fixture of the theatergoing experience for not only patrons....but for employees as well.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Penny is your average, everyday 16-year-old African-American girl. She's not too tall, not too short, not too skinny, but not too fat. She's got her friends, she's got school, and as of two weeks ago, a job at the Rochester 13 as a "Concessions Associate."
I mean, it's basically a fancy term for "guy who sells popcorn and stuff," but considering that this is the famous Rochester theater...it's not to be taken lightly.
Yeah, the uniform, consisting of a film strip "bow" and a onesie with a fake button-up shirt and dark red "blazer" that formed the bottom of the thing with yellow star buttons was embarassing...
And the manditory diapers that were thick and poofy enough to keep her waddling like a 2-year-old and, in her case, had a light red "film strip" trim, tapes, wasteguards, and tape landing zone (with her name on it, written in cutesy letters and practically unseen due to being covered up by her onsie) that she was required to wear...and use...
Regardless, it wasn't the most dignified work, but it paid well, and employees got free movies, popcorn, and diaper changes!
And most of the time, she was able to go off and do her "dooty" without anybody seeing....unlike that one time...
It was a Saturday afternoon. Traffic for the concession stand was high, seeing as the latest in some sci-fi movie Penny wasn't the least bit intrigued in was coming out, in addition to some animated family flick that, much like the previous film, she wasn't interested in.
So far, it had been a normal day. Help people get their stuff, refill the butter dispensers and salt shakers every now and again, and try not to look like a toddler as you waddle over to the popcorn machine. Penny's mom had forgotten to pack her a lunch that day, so she had mainly been sneaking some of the popcorn and occasionally getting a drink. She had managed to not need much maintenance in terms of her diapers that day, only getting a change into one when she got to work that day.
She had been on a roll that day, getting customer after customer, and not missing a beat, until she started to feel an immediately recognizable pressure in her stomach.
She had to poop. Badly.
A slight tingle in her tummy signifies that her snacks were about to help her ease her worries. She takes a deep breath, clearing her mind as a loudly muffled fart escapes her butt and gets absorbed by the thick butthug proudly displaying her name on the front for no one to see.
She puts a hand on the counter separating herself from the thickly padded mother and daughter before her, waiting anxiously for their refreshments before going off to the screening room and, in a matter of time, finding themselves in a very similar situation to Penny.
The mother gives an odd face at Penny, who has put on a false smile to reassure the woman that she's only taking a moment to get their popcorn. The daughter stands impatiently, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, her fresh and poofy padding displaying a character or two from the animated flick that just hit the Rochester.
Penny slightly waddles out of view of the mother and daughter, as another fart rips it's way from her butt, blarting it's way into the protective pampers that were about to fulfill their mushy destiny.
Her arms go limp as she gives a sigh of relief. A steady stream of urine starts frolicking out of the girl and into her enormous Luv's, thirstily gulping up the pee and starting to expand. Her onsie starts to rustle slightly as her now squishy diaper starts to sag gently.
Then, it starts coming out. Her onsie starts to tighten up as the hot, smelly gunk started rolling out and into her thick, white padding. Audible crinkling comes from her formerly clean posterior as the mother starts giving a look of disgust. Her daughter looks up to her, asking what's going on with the lady. The mother puts a hand over her eyes.
Penny's standing there, her diaper quickly starting to occupy any open space in the bottom of her onsie as another fart is muffled by her rustling nappy. She feels her onsie tighten again, looking down to see that her bloated pampers have reached the full capacity of her onesie.
She looks behind herself, down at her soiled bottom. It feels as if she's stopped going. Maybe just push to check?
Then again, she remembered what the training video said. "If you feel like you have to do Number 2 after enjoying a complementary savory soda or a delicious bag of popcorn from the Concession Stand, just relax! No need to push! It'll all work itself out, I assure you!"
Well, surely they meant that pushing anything out afterwards was okay, right?
She hunches slightly, clenching her hands into fists as she bites her lip, and pushes. Immediately, a what-would-be deafening fart explodes into her saggy nappy, causing a slight surge of the brown smelly mush to race from her intestines like a bullet train, hitting the insides of her diaper like machine gun fire. Her diaper butt starts bulging out, especially.
She tries to stop, gently whispering worried "No's" to herself as she looks down at her diaper. Her onsie keeps tightening, as spots of her now soiled diaper start showing up below here, in between the yellow star buttons clasping it together.
The mother looks even more disgusted, her daughter pushing her guarding hand away and looking in awe at the young lady using an answering machine on nature's calls.
Penny bends over, her hands reaching for her padding, when it happens. The distinct snapping of threads signifies that her work uniform has had its' worth, finally coming undone. All of the tension in her onsie gives out as her diaper gives a distinct thud as it hits the floor, sloshing around as she turns to look at the line of padded patrons. They look in confusion as to what has happened.
She curses to herself mentally as she waddles over to the popcorn machine, her padding sloshing and squishing on the floor. She fills the theater-branded bag, and goes back to the counter, her coworker next to her trying to keep focused on he next customer.
The mother begrudgingly takes her bag, her daughter ranting and raving on whether or not her diaper could become so huge. Penny looks at the confused line of customers.
She closes the register, and starts to waddle over to the changing stations. Her loaded Luv's squished and smooshed as they slid on the floor, following the waddling teen. The flaps of her onsie gently shifted as Penny made her way to the line for the tables, the dark skin on her face blushing heavily as she realized that a new uniform was coming out of her paycheck...
....and that Mark was likely going to have to deal with the mess of the kid she just served....
.....and that she heard her tum-tum grumble like a volcano.... |
Blaze the Cat was a woman of many skills and positions. A 14-year old princess, it was her duty to not only rule over the Sol Dimension, but to guard its most powerful treasures, the Sol Emeralds and the Jeweled Scepter. She was highly skilled with the ability to control fire, no one besides the nefarious Dr. Eggman Nega would dare cross her. That also meant no one would face her in a friendly manner, everyone was too intimidated by her control over the flames to get close and welcoming. As such, she lived in solitude, maintaining an image of a graceful and elegant leader who was secluded from her subjects. But she kept them safe, so she did her job.
Apparently, she was also a babysitter. That's the only reason there could be to explain why she was currently escorting a very young rabbit named Cream and her pet whatever, Blaze thought she heard it called Cheese, to Cream's house. Blaze was not in the mood to be led around by some little kid when she was forcibly pulled into another dimension and on the hunt for both her Emeralds and archenemy, but Cream was directly leading her and it'd be rude to ditch a girl that had done nothing against her, especially a native to this world.
“You've been really quiet, Blaze. Mommy says I should ask about someone if I want to be friends. What do you do?” Cream was asking with the utmost innocence and wonder, which Blaze ignored., preferring to stay silent to inane questions. Cream didn't get the hint. “Did you hear my question? What do you do as a job, Blaze?”
Blaze sighed. “Your mother is a trusting woman, letting you run off at your age without supervision and telling you to make friends with strangers. That's the kind of lesson that can get you hurt or kidnapped if you meet the wrong person.”
“Mom taught me the rules of who to avoid, and I could tell looking at you that you were nice.”
Are these the sorts of things being taught to kids here? What would they do if that Eggman Nega clone did something horrible? Do they not know danger, or do they simply not fear it? “How old are you, Cream?”
“I'm 6 years old. Why?”
Okay, she's too young to be out on her own. I don't know if it's her, her parents, or this whole world that needs a lesson in responsibility. “You should be more careful, there's a lot of dangerous people that prey on those that trust others. Always be on guard and ready to defend yourself.”
“Oh, I'm not worried about bad men, Mr. Sonic takes care of Eggman's robots and anything else evil. He's done so many good things.”
“That may be, but you shouldn't just accept that this Sonic will always be there to save the day. Someday, there won't be anyone to protect you, and you need to be ready for that.” This was something Blaze had been conditioned across her life to believe, that she could only trust herself because no one else would stand by her.
Cream didn't agree with Blaze's outlook. “I believe in Mr. Sonic, because no matter what bad things happen, he always comes back to save the day. He saved my mom once from Eggman.”
“I see, you consider Sonic to be powerful because he's done something personal and you owe him a debt.”
“...What does 'debt' mean?” Blaze probably should have guessed her terminology was too advanced for a 6-year old. It was impressive Cream had kept up for this long, at least. Even when she was ignoring the discussion, Blaze didn't pay attention to their locations, and didn't notice when they were directly in front of a small building, a cozy home. Cream rushed ahead to the wooden door and opened it inwards, stepping into the frame enough to hold it open, proper manners. “Well, here we are. Please come in, Blaze.”
Incredible, how can she just let me in? After all, she just met me. It was an alien offer, but Blaze didn't want to be rude, so she silently entered the domicile. There was something cozy about it, it was a low furnished cottage that felt homely. The door shut behind her and Cream ran past into another room, shouting “hi mom! I've brought a friend home today! I met Blaze when I was wandering around!”
The sound of slow, casual footsteps began approaching from the room Cream entered, and out emerged another rabbit, looking a lot like Cream, but much taller and older, with a long lavender dress as opposed to Cream's very short dress. This has to be Cream's mother. She spoke first, “Blaze, I hope Cream wasn't bothering you.”
There was something about the way she spoke that was very soft and inviting, and Blaze thought that was creepy, she didn't like others being nice to her without knowing her. “Um, no. But I... have an errand to take care of. Please excuse me!” She tried to back away, maybe she could get out of the house safely and go back to her mission.
Cream's mom, Vanilla, didn't do anything to stop Blaze, but she insisted otherwise. “Please relax, Blaze. I had just finished boiling a pot of tea, have some before you leave.”
Admittedly, some tea sounded very good to Blaze right now. She had been active over the last hour, running through zones and fighting giant robots combined with the stress of being forcibly placed in a different dimension, she could use a hot drink to relax. “That sounds very nice, actually.”
Vanilla smiled. “Then I'll prepare a cup for you. Please take a seat in the kitchen, I'll be there shortly.” She gestured to the next room, the room she had exited and Cream had entered. Blaze followed her instructions and found a small square table, three chairs with Cream in one. Blaze took her seat perpendicular to Cream, and sat quietly. She observed her surroundings, everything that one would expect from a tiny cottage like this. The small table, the under-equipped kitchen, family pictures on the walls, it was clearly a family home.
Blaze avoided eye contact with Cream, she didn't want to give the impression that she wanted small talk, she just looked out the window at the peaceful natural world. It didn't look obviously different than her own, but there was just a different vibe to it than she was used to, it was uncanny. Blaze kept watching in solace until the shrill sound of boiling water in a tea kettle harshly pierced the silence. There were three pouring sounds and the clank of ceramic on metal, before Vanilla approached the table carrying the four small cups with miniature plates on a tray. “Here's your tea, girls. Enjoy,” Vanilla happily remarked as she placed the tray in the middle of the table.
Blaze delicately grabbed the cup closest to her. “Thank you very much.” She held the handle with her thumb and two fingers, extending the smallest finger while bringing the mouth to her own, taking a slow, quiet sip. “This is very good, I truly appreciate it.”
Cream giggled, which made Blaze realize she was the only one to take a drink yet. Is this some etiquette rule here I didn't know about, so now I look like a barbarian? “You like your tea really hot, Blaze? You just went right at it from boiling without waiting.” Oh, right. I've been drinking it boiling for so long, I forgot it's unusual.
“It's certainly an unusual thing to see. I don't mean to offend, Blaze, but everyone else I've served tea to gives it time to cool. But I like the way you're holding the cup, it's very elegant and regal,” Vanilla remarked.
“That's to be expected from a princess,” Blaze answered.
If Cream was holding her tea, she would have dropped it. “You're a princess?! That's so amazing! So what are you doing here instead of princess things?” She looked at Blaze expectantly, eagerly anticipating any details about royalty.
“Actually, what I'm doing is the most important job in my line of duty, something that absolutely must be done.” Blaze described her position, the Sol Emeralds, her dimension, all the details as to why she was in a rush.
“You know, I'd suggest that you talk to Sonic,” Cream offered. “He'd be able to help you.”
This Sonic character again...why do they insist on involving him? “Please don't worry. This is my problem, so I'll find the Emeralds myself!” It was unbecoming for her to get so angry, but she was really getting annoyed at the constant Sonic talk.
“Don't say that, Sonic will be glad to help. Now then, Cream will show you the way,” Vanilla offered. Cream jumped from her seat, excited to be of assistance to her new friend.
Blaze wanted to object, both out of desire to do things on her own and to keep a young girl out of danger. But she saw Cream standing next to her, that expectant look in her eyes, there wasn't a point in arguing. Cream would probably follow her if she refused, it would be better if she kept Cream close. “Have it your way.”
“All right! Okay, mom, I'm going now!” Cream began running out the door, ahead of Blaze, waving her mom goodbye, Cheese trailing behind. Blaze followed them slowly, annoyed that it was now her job to watch after some kid when she was supposed to be fighting. She'd just have to put up with it, this was all she could do given the circumstances.
---------------------
Blaze's adventure was tiring. She had fought through Leaf Storm and Mirage Road locations, and had just beaten Eggman piloting a dung beetle. The most amazing part was that Cream had kept up. She hadn't done anything for combat, but she was fast enough to not stray far behind and keep out of trouble, with Cheese defeating anything with little effort. Perhaps she was not so much of a burden as Blaze thought.
She was currently with Blaze, the two walking through the desert towards the Ocean Palace. The desert wasn't smoldering hot, the two could comfortably traverse the sandy dunes. It wouldn't bother Blaze anyway, but she still chose to conserve energy by staying silent. Normally, Cream didn't share the same ideology, and would skip and sing, but she was being uncharacteristically quiet now. Blaze kind of liked it, a calming break from action and conversation.
Still, if she was going to be under her charge, Blaze should probably check Cream's condition. “Is something bothering you, Cream? Did you hurt yourself at some point?”
Cream jumped, like she didn't expect to hear Blaze talk to her. Her head quickly faced the cat, somehow avoiding eye contact at the same time. “Y-yeah, I'm good. But, can we please hurry? I, uh...I just want to get there already.” She looked away as soon as she finished, desperate to be quiet, for once.
Cream was not a good liar, Blaze could tell that easily, but she wasn't going to press the issue. What would I do if I knew, anyway? Their trek continued in silence for about another minute, Blaze considering what could be bothering Cream, until something completely blocked her vision. She jumped back reflexively, when her focus altered and she could tell it was Cheese, flying right in front of her eyes. “Oh. Hello.”
Cheese didn't talk, but he began fervently gesturing, pointing at Cream. Blaze followed his pointing, and noticed something extra off about her. Despite having fallen behind, Cream had not stopped, like she was completely oblivious, off in her own thoughts. Not only that, but Cream usually had that youthful and energetic spring in her step, now her walk couldn't be more stiff. “You want me to do something about her?” Cheese nodded enthusiastically. “Fine, I'll help her.”
Blaze caught up with Cream, a split-second task with a boost, and faced her while keeping pace with the bunny. “Alright, time for you to talk. What's going on with you?”
The second prodding ended up being all it took to get Cream to spill. “Actually, I...” Her voice trailed down into a near whisper. “I really gotta go pee-pee.”
A cat's ears were powerful, so Blaze still heard her mumbling. She rolled her eyes, frustrated that she got possibly worried over that. “Hold it in, then. Wait until we're at Ocean Palace.”
Cream pressed her hands on the front of her dress and bounced with one leg. “I've been holding it for a long time now. Mom's tea always makes me need to go bad.”
She's probably right with that. Blaze had been feeling her bladder filling as well, she just had enough practice to not let it show. Being eight years older helped too. Still, it was becoming uncomfortable, she had been thinking about relieving herself already once they reached their destination. Until then, they were just going to have to wait. “So what are you planning to do? You need to go, great, but there isn't a restroom out here.”
“I-I know there isn't, it's just...I was just saying I needed the potty because you asked. I'm gonna try and hold it, but...we're far away from where we're going, I might not make it.” She faced downwards to the sand as her shoes shuffled the grains around.
“Alright, then tell me when it gets to be too much to manage. Until then, stay quiet about it.” Both because she didn't want to hear it, and because she didn't need the reminder of her own building urine.
Cream nodded, even with a defiant squeak echoing in her closed mouth, and started walking, though slowly. Blaze followed suit, naturally moving faster, passing her partner and getting her out of sight, but only barely. However, not even a minute passed before Cream tugged on the long sleeve of Blaze's jacket. “I told you to wait until it was urgent.”
“It just started to hurt really bad! I really really can't wait any longer, I'm gonna pee!”
Blaze looked at the young girl, who certainly seemed to be telling the truth. Her hands were under her dress, she was grimacing in pain, and she was dancing to keep under control. It wasn't a pretty sight, both from pity of her state, and an incredibly visceral depiction of Cream's desperation was only making Blaze's worse. She had control, that wasn't a doubt, but watching Cream struggle made Blaze start doing the same thing without noticing, subtly moving her own legs.
Like what had most likely happened to Cream, Blaze was feeling her own urine build up rather suddenly. She was still capable of holding it, but she'd be looking for a toilet in any other situation. But with Cream in the position she was in, Blaze didn't have a choice on what to do next. She just needed to test the waters, to see if her instruction was needed. “Fine, then. Just go, I'm not stopping you.”
“I...I don't know how, I'm a girl. That's something boys do.”
That's the answer Blaze was expecting to hear, though it would have been much easier if it was otherwise. Blaze had gone on plenty of adventures and journeys, she had plenty of time to learn how to and get used to doing her business outdoors. It wasn't something every girl knew how to do, which made it her job to help, as weird as it was going to be. “Then it's my job to teach you, I suppose. Do you have any starting point?”
“I don't know anything about this. How does it even work, I can't stand up and do it.” Somehow, even while horribly desperate, Cream's curiosity had not diminished.
It was a good point she had brought up. I've been doing standing pees for a long time now, at least when there isn't a toilet. It's just more convenient that way. But it's hard to do right, I had accidents with it a few times before I got it down. Probably easier to teach her how to squat, even if it is less comfortable. “Take your panties off.”
“W-what?!” The appropriate reaction to a blunt demand like that.
“Unless you want to wet yourself, you'll need to remove your panties. It's in your best interest to hurry, too.”
Cream looked around, probably an instinctual thing before stripping down, and reached below her dress to grab the underwear beneath. She slid them down her legs, her hips wiggling and thighs trembling, to just above the knees, to a point where her choice in panties was evident. There were a pure white, no lace or design, no thin straps, only a small pink ribbon on the front waistband to give them character. That unfettered white also served to highlight the small yellow stain, the cause at the forefront of attention. She should have kept pulling them down, but instead she stopped and looked out, towards Blaze but not exactly at her. Blaze followed her gaze, and it led to Cheese flying in the air watching her owner, to the left of Blaze's head. Cream was too timid to say anything, but Blaze could tell what she wanted to get at and voiced the concern for her. “Look away, you little perv,” she said as she reached out and forcefully spun him away, which he didn't resist.
“Thanks, Blaze,” Cream quietly acknowledged, her hands already back in her crotch. “I'm not comfortable with Cheese seeing me like this. Do I need to take my panties off all the way?”
Blaze had to consider that. It's not completely necessary to do so, with a dress like that, she could make do with them at her knees. But then again, this is her first time. Mistakes can happen, it's smarter to ensure any variables are secured. “It's better to remove them completely. You're not going to want any stray splashes.” Blaze looked over Cream's attire, and noticed her large boots, too big for her to get her panties off without undressing further. “Are you going to need help taking off your boots?”
Cream looked down at her feet, and shook her head. “I-I think the urge passed, it doesn't feel as bad anymore.” She tested this by removing her hands from between her legs completely, keeping them stiff by her sides. While she still couldn't help but shake from the need, no drops came out. “I can do it myself, thanks.” She bent over at the waist, not easy to do with underwear around her knees, and grabbed the top of her boot, sock also in her grip, pulling her foot out of the shoe and stepping bare onto the sand, recoiling for a brief second in response to the heat. She did the same for the other foot, and moved both boots away to the side.
With nothing obstructing the path any longer, she brought her legs together to give her panties some slack, allowing gravity to take them to her ankles. Lifting one foot out of the leg hole, she bent down again to grab her underwear as the other foot came out. She stood back up with the panties still in her hand, grains of sand that had been stuck to the wet patch falling off. as she considered what to do with them. Her dress didn't have pockets, and she couldn't leave them on the sand lest more get stuck to them. With no other options, she dropped them into one of her boots. She'd remember where they were before the boot went back on.
She's this far, but the steps past this are a lot more personal and difficult to explain. I may have to demonstrate. Blaze was thinking about her situation as well, mainly her own need for relief, on how she'd need to take care of it soon. Not for fear of an accident, but a full bladder would limit her movement capabilities, something she couldn't afford to let happen. She'd normally take care of nature's call whenever she had the time, no matter the location. The middle of a desert fit that criteria rather well, and if Cream needed a demonstration...
Who cares about modesty anyway? “The next parts are more challenging, so I'll guide you through them. Just follow what I do.” Now Blaze had to catch up to the step Cream was on, which meant she needed to strip down. The first piece removed was her coat, the fastening undone allowing it to slide off her back, where she grabbed it in the air and threw it off dramatically, unintentionally of course. Next would be her heels, but with Blaze being much more experienced and the sand to absorb most of her liquid, she felt comfortable in not needing to fully removing her bottoms.
But they still needed to at least be pulled down, and when hers were not normal pants, and instead tights that stretched up to above her breasts, it meant extra work. She grabbed the top and pulled them down, adding her mostly plain with a little lace dark maroon panties once she reached their spot, to her knees, the optimal place to leave them if not completely removing them, revealing both her underendowed chest and vulva.
“There's a certain way to squat down if you don't want to spray all over your legs. Spread your feet apart shoulder-width and hover your rear just above the sand. Watch your tail,” Blaze instructed while performing the same actions. As a nice side effect, Blaze keeping clothes on and facing Cream directly blocked the full frontal view of her own vagina to others. Being in position was making her desire to urinate more prevalent, reaching the dangerous level of not being able to contain herself.
Cream mimicked Blaze, surprisingly well for her first time, and did her squat over the sand. Blaze would have continued with the next step, the small details of positioning, but something came across Cream's face, a look not of pain like Blaze would have expected, but shock. It took just a second before it was obvious why, as the sound of flowing water began, splattering for a few seconds before being drowned out by splashing. Looks like Cream didn't have the control Blaze was able to afford. It wasn't vitally important that she continued to hold anymore, but something could still go wrong. “Everything alright with you?”
“Mhm! All good here,” Cream very happily called out. Her head bobbed left and right as she let nature take its course, quite powerfully too. For such a young girl, her stream was coming out thick and fast, droplets flying outwards as it poured down. Anyone who saw this would instantly be able to tell, the poor girl was bursting. Appropriately, she looked to be in ecstasy while taking this horrible leak, moaning and humming alternatively. Guess this isn't too big of an embarrassment to her if she's okay now. It's easy to ignore where you're doing it when the relief feels so good. No point in letting Cream do it alone, Blaze's bladder was ready and willing to release its contents already.
Blaze adjusted her butt a little bit, bending it towards the back to reduce the angle of her stream thanks to the flexibility of a cat, and flicked her long tail behind her, tossing sand up into the air, thankfully away from her clothing. Prepared to pee, Blaze started to relax her muscles, and...nothing happened, everything remained dry. Really? Now's not the time for a shy bladder. How did she get this far, anyway? Not that she actually suffered from shy bladder, but she avoided getting nude in front of anyone. So why did she get so intimately close around Cream? She would never reveal herself this much around anyone. Was it just because Cream was a fellow girl? Blaze wasn't acquainted with other women, but is this how she'd react, just based on gender?
At least introspective thoughts kept her mind occupied, allowing her bladder to forget she was in view of another and relaxed appropriately. Her stream, while not nearly as intense as Cream's, was still healthy and very nice for her, it was still an urgent need being taken care of. Blaze's only vocalization was a light, soft moan, though it still indicated happiness, just one more appropriate for a composed and elegant princess such as herself.
This was not the time for conversation, so both women kept quiet as they attended to their bathroom needs, save for the unavoidable and unplanned noises both emitted every now and again. Somewhat expected, but Blaze finished before Cream even slowed down, despite Blaze's slower release. While Cream was preoccupied, Blaze shook her bottom to loosen any remaining drops, letting them fall into the puddle she had created below. Satisfied with her actions, she stood up, pulling her panties up in the same motion. Her tights were next up, shaking her whole body to force past the friction, raising the garment to just below her shoulders. Finally, she drove the point of her heel under her pile of a jacket, kicking it upwards, and she caught it in the air, in the middle of a thrusting motion to remove all lingering sand with one motion. She brushed her clothing down to smoothen it out as much as possible.
Somehow, even with the time Blaze spent making herself presentable, Cream was only just slowing down. Her breathing got more ragged as the stream reduced to a trickle, culminating in a long exhalation once it was nothing more than drops. “Ah, so much better! Thank you, Blaze. Do you have any toilet paper or anything?”
Guess she wasn't paying attention when I handled myself. Can't blame her, I guess, her eyes were closed most of that time. “Your panties are already wet, a little extra won't hurt you.”
“I-I guess.” Cream stood, a little wobbly from her balance changing, the motion doing most of the cleansing work. She reached into the boot closest to her, the one her underwear had been dropped in, and pulled her panties out, careful not to touch any of the damp fabric. Lifting one of her legs, she slipped back into them, a little uncomfortable with the minimal wetness touching her extremely sensitive girlhood. She was about to step into her boots, when she got a good look at her feet and the amount of sand on them, not that the color stood out against her cream-colored fur. Still, she swiped it off, some of it just getting on her gloves, before putting her feet back in. Finally, she flattened her dress down to keep her panties hidden. “You can turn back around, Cheese, I'm done.”
Oh yeah, I forgot about him. Guess it's good that he didn't look. “We've lost time, we should be moving again.” Blaze started walking, with Cream keeping up in silence. “And please, don't ever talk about this again. This is not one of those things that ever needs to be brought up.” And I don't need anyone knowing that I told a 6 year old girl to get naked.
“I wasn't going to. I really don't like that I had to tinkle in the middle of the desert, either. Still, thank you for teaching me how to do it, just in case I need to do it again.” Cream looked up at Blaze and smiled.
Somehow, Blaze couldn't help but smile back. “You're welcome. It's a very useful skill to know, for future expeditions.” Why am I getting attached? She's just a random girl I happened to find. A random girl who's been nice to me, invited me to her house, was willing to join me on a dangerous adventure, and she's asking for nothing in return. Now things were starting to fall into place. I suppose if you're going to take a piss with another girl, you'd better be close. How did I not realize anything was happen when I didn't object to showing my vagina? Maybe that's just what friends do, they don't have problems being intimate with each other. That might not be so bad. Somehow, because of emotions Blaze wouldn't understand, she was fine with going potty around another girl. Nothing better to open your heart up than doing the most private thing imaginable around someone else.
Edited September 23, 2015 by Captain L
(see edit history) |
Author's Note: Kept you waiting, huh?
--------------------
Cats really don't do well on the open water. In all fairness, Blaze wasn't doing poorly on the boat Ocean Tornado. It's not like she was vehemently staying away from the boat's edges, she wasn't seasick, she wasn't shaking in terror, she was probably even a better swimmer than Sonic. The feline princess would just rather not be out in the ocean, even if it was better than being underneath the surface, and especially better than being too high above sea level. It helped that this was a stable boat, large, a cabin in the rear center of the dock, and lots of firepower.
This was a strange adventure Blaze had found herself in. It hadn't been that long after returning to her home dimension after her previous voyage in another world, where she met Sonic the Hedgehog and his friends, they teamed up and beat Eggman Nega and his interdimensional counterpart. She had even formed a friendship with young girl Cream the Rabbit, after the two had an...exposing experience. Now, Sonic had been pulled to Blaze's dimension, and they had to secure the Jeweled Scepter, the most powerful treasure the royal family had to protect.
“Are you doing alright, Blaze?” She turned away from looking at the empty ocean to the sound on the boat, and had to look down after that. It was Tails, the orange two-tailed fox that was Sonic's best friend. He was smart, he built the boat they were standing on among other seafaring vehicles, but he was stuck on the boat with her. They had been on their way to a hidden island to find a Sol Emerald when the craft had encountered the nefarious pirate Johnny, meaning Sonic had to take off and race him to win a Chaos Emerald. That just left Blaze and Tails. At least it isn't Marine, both thought.
“I don't like the water, but I'll survive.” Even if she had opened up in the time since last adventure, she would still rather stay quiet now. But Tails had the same kind of youthful energy and innocence that Cream had, she'd feel bad blowing him off. This time, however, her silence wasn't due to anti-social behaviors. Watching the calm currents and waves of the deep ocean had awakened a feeling below her stomach, one she certainly recognized.
How does this happen twice? Blaze needed to pee on the adventure while on the path to the next location. Needing to use the bathroom was not unusual for her, it always happened at least once just because the action took enough time, but she wasn't alone this time. She could wait until they reached the island, she'd be departing alone and could answer nature's call then. But she was noticing her bladder now, which meant she was already pretty desperate. At least I'm the only desperate one this time, she thought as she looked at Tails, who was looking out to the ocean, his left leg twitching. Uh-oh.
The sounds of water were not helping Blaze's predicament, she yearned for a distraction, and it looked like Tails needed one too. “Sonic's taking a very long time. I figured the fastest thing alive would be able to finish a race faster than this.”
“Sonic's very proud,” he responded. “If he loses, and he very well might by this Emerald race, he'll just keep challenging Johnny to rematches until he wins. It could take a while.” Very quietly, he grumbled at the end of the sentence, but Blaze still picked it up. She didn't bring it up, she already had the reason after all, she was even tempted to do the same.
Right then, a wave of desperation hit Blaze's bladder, reminding her quite forcefully of the amount of urine she was keeping in. It hurt, now it was her turn to whimper, and she even bent at the knees just a little in response. She wouldn't grab herself, especially with Tails right there, but she really wanted to. Another distraction, now! “You're certainly a lot more articulate than Cream. How much older are you?”
He didn't look at her this time, wanting to keep consistent focus on something, but he was at least courteous and replied. “I'm...2 years older than Cream. I'm 8, and a lot s-smARTER,” his voice cracked as he strained to finish the word. That surely must have been a similar surge of need to Blaze's, probably even greater in magnitude. While he didn't cross his legs in response either, his twin tails twisted tightly together as his stance turned shaky. Even with him looking away, probably moreso now, Blaze could still see a blush form on his muzzle and whiskers.
Poor kid...I don't remember Cream looking this desperate. He must need to go really bad, and he isn't even mentioning it. Both from already seeing a friend in the same situation, and currently being in the same place, Blaze felt a pang of sympathy almost as painful as her bladder's strikes. Not quite, but almost. She didn't feel right making Tails suffer like he shouldn't say anything, so it was time to make her own desire known. Not like she had any ground to stand on when it came to keeping restroom visits private. “You too, huh,” she asked as she subtly rubbed her thighs together to give the hopefully perceptive fox a clue what she was referring to.
Tails turned to her to see what she was talking about, and when he saw her wiggling, his eyes widened as he realized that she needed to pee just like him. He didn't even know how to react to that, the normally dignified and proper princess he didn't know all that well admitting she was having a certain trouble. A few seconds of frozen stillness later, Tails gave in and did what his body had been longing for, begging him to do for a while now; he crossed his legs tightly, grabbed his crotch just as hard, and bent over shaking. “S-sorry. I have to pee so much, I really can't help this anymore.”
“I don't blame you, it doesn't feel like it'll be long before I start following your lead there. I really wish I had noticed this as a need before we set sail.”
“I knew I had to pee before we left, but I was busy working on another project and I didn't take a break yet. Then Sonic came in and told me we were leaving, and I didn't have the courage to tell him to give me a minute.” He started dancing, as if to show how big a mistake that was.
Yeah, he needs to pee way worse than me. Looks like it really hurts. She felt bad for the little fox, how did she end up with two kids in emergency situations? I should at least give him a hope spot. “I was planning on...you know, doing my business once we get to the island. I'm sure you can think of some excuse to come with me.”
Tails looked at Blaze stunned, completely confused. “Why would there be a bathroom on the...oh. Never mind.” It was a simple mistake from a kid trying not to wet himself, but Blaze still rolled her eyes. Is it really that unbelievable that a girl would pee outside? “I don't know if I can make it to the island, but I'll try. I'm so tempted to go off the side of the boat.”
Yeah, I don't blame him. If I had to pee as bad as that, I'd pee off the boat too. At least, if no one knew. Too late on that part, Blaze already knew what plagued Tails, she'd know what was up if Tails suddenly came back not dancing all over the place. But what would I do with that knowledge? Not like I'd tease him or tell anyone. Her ears perked up as she attempted to listen to anything nearby. It wasn't easy drowning out Tails' stomping, but besides that, all she heard were waves and maybe some seagulls. “You don't see Sonic or Johnny or anything on the horizon, do you?”
Once again, Tails looked confused, but he looked to the distance to check, trying his hardest to keep his eyes open. “I-I don't see anything.”
“Good. You go behind the cabin and...” She stopped as she realized it would be cruel to ask the kid who was having a hard enough time just standing to walk to the other end of the boat. “Actually, you stay here, I'll be back there for a few minutes. If I hear any splashing over here, or if you're acting differently when I come back, I'll ignore it.” The intention seemed obvious enough, but Tails was probably too distracted to notice the subtlety, so Blaze added a wink at the end.
At least he caught on, but with a bladder as bursting as his, he didn't have the attention span to reply in a similarly indirect way. “Thank you so much, Blaze! It won't take long, I just...need this so much.”
“Believe me, I get it. Just do what you have to.” Blaze turned and walked, just a little stiff, to the back side of the boat, where the cabin would block the view to the other end. Tails at least tried to wait until Blaze was out of sight, but by the time she was at least not currently looking, he started to lose it. Another push from his bladder, feeling like it was seriously about to pop, put the fox over the edge as a few little leaks found their way out, dripping onto his hands and added yellow dots to his white gloves.
“Ah ahahah! No, not yet, I'm so close!” No time to waste anymore, he rushed as close to the hull as he could without stepping onto the barrier. Incredibly hesitantly, he untwisted his legs, shaking like sails in the wind, his tails unintentionally making the same motions. He was facing the water, the waves crashing into the boat making more pee spurt out into his hands, still gripping his privates like it'd kill him if he let go. “Just need to...let go, and you can pee. That's it, Tails. Just let go now.”
Meanwhile, on another end of the deck, Blaze was looking out at her side of the ocean. Tails built this whole boat, she realized. He's at least earned the right to pee off it in a dire emergency like this. Things were still quiet, a little surprising, Blaze figured he wouldn't waste even a second before relieving himself. She knew she'd have to wait, so she began studying the distance to pass the time, starting to cross her legs to cope with her own building pressure. If he's okay with it, I may need to use the side of the boat after him. Nothing else on the water and Tails was out of sight, so Blaze was effectively alone. Or I could do it now. I can hold it, but I'd rather do it sooner. Just in case there's something unexpected on the island. One more look to ensure she had privacy, when suddenly she saw the white of breaking water on the horizon, a lot of it, approaching fast. Too many to be Sonic, even if Johnny was with him, so the real bad guys were the only option. “Tails! Whisker's men are coming!”
At that moment, Tails was just removing his hands, probably seconds away from peeing. Upon hearing Blaze calling to him, he froze, losing concentration for a brief moment and leaking a little more onto the ship floor, his bladder screaming at him to not stop there. Once again, he grabbed himself and crossed his legs together, probably harder than before. “Blaze...I really don't think I can hold it any longer! Can you please take care of them?!” It didn't even matter if the robots might see, Tails just needed to pee already.
I'm so sorry, Tails. I know you need this. “I don't know how to use any of the weapons on the ship, and my fire can only hold them off so long!” She hesitated, she really didn't want to make Tails suffer any longer than he already had. “I guess...they're still a ways off, and I can take care of a few of them! Do whatever you can until then!”
“N-no,” he shouted back. “It takes time to arm the weapons, too much time. I...I have to wait! Get inside the cabin!” Blaze didn't quite believe that Tails was willingly giving up maybe his only chance at a bathroom break, but if they needed to protect the ship, so be it. She boosted in, a shaking Tails following what seemed like an eternity later. “Okay, hit the big red button next to the wheel to get the weapons out.”
Blaze looked back at Tails, who had his eyes shut tight as his hips swayed in the throes of probably the worst desperation she had ever seen. And he was the one guiding Blaze. It seemed a little pathetic on her part, but she followed the direction and slammed her palm on the button. It caused doors to open on the outer hull, and gun turrets and flamethrowers emerged, joining the cannons already on the deck. “How far are they, and how fast are they moving?”
“Uh...” She turned to check the attackers, gaining but still with distance. “They're getting closer, but they're not here yet! And they're keeping a steady forward course!”
“Real good description,” Tails grumbled. “If you can lead your shots well enough, use the rear cannons with the small blue button beneath the wheel. When the cannons are recharging or you need the speed, use the guns with the green button to its right. When they're right on our tails, use nothing but the flamethrowers with the red button, or your own fire! When the weapon's selected, use the screen on the left to select the side of the boat to fire from and tap to target the enemies and shoot!”
He can't even see what's happening, and he's giving me instructions like an annoying manual. But she had to follow it, or their boat might be destroyed and they would have to swim back. Impending danger wasn't enough to get Blaze to lose focus, but Tails about to wet himself a few feet from her and her own aching bladder did not make an accurate combination, so she activated the turrets, which brought up a diagram of the Ocean Tornado on what looked like an orange game controller with a screen in the middle. She quickly tapped the rear, which brought up a camera feed of Whisker's forces approaching.
Now it was time for battle. Just to try it, she tapped on the image of the closest enemy, and the turrets fired up and shot at it, blowing it up with only a few hits. Blaze was not expecting it to be so loud, she jumped at the ringing noise of a high-velocity bullet being ejected from a giant turret, it surprised and shocked her to the point she accidentally leaked a little bit into her panties. Uh-oh, I'm getting a little too close to having an accident. We need to wrap this up quick. Even though he must have expected the sound, she saw Tails jump too, and she could only imagine he had a similar secondary reaction.
But she had to admit, shooting these guys was kind of fun. She tapped on the next one and the bullets fired once more, blowing up another robot. She braced herself for the sound this time and stayed still, but Tails still jolted, probably because he didn't have the current fortitude to handle such a loud noise. She couldn't confirm it, but she thought she saw the edges of his gloves' palms grow yellow. It wouldn't surprise her if that was the case.
One after another, the invaders fell to the power of Tails' guns. Things weren't getting easier for the little fox, or Blaze for that matter, so she hurriedly took out almost all of them. These guys really don't know how to dodge, to get out of the way of everything I've fired. Thank you. The last one was almost upon them, but Blaze didn't feel like using any more bullets, she had a better idea. She turned away from the controls to look out the cabin's windows at the approaching enemy, raised her right hand, pressed her thumb against her index and middle fingers, and snapped. The final robot suddenly burst into flames, not an explosion like every one before, but combustion courtesy of Blaze's natural fire. The fight was won, Blaze let out a heavy breath, and pressed her hand against her tights. Finally... “Hey Tails, we got them! You're in the clear!
He didn't respond, he stayed completely silent. That's not good. Actually, she realized, some of the water sound wasn't from the ocean, it was behind her, in the cabin. Like liquid hitting the wooden floor. That's bad. Really bad. “Uh, Tails?” She was pretty sure what she'd find, but she still turned to look at the kid, and found exactly what she expected; Tails, hunched over, eyes closed, hands digging into his crotch, urine as golden as rings soaking into his gloves, streaming between his fingers, running through the fur on his legs, making one big puddle beneath his shoes.
“Oh.” That's all Blaze could say. In all honesty, their conversation and plan hadn't been going on for that long, probably no more than 10 minutes, but it felt like hours of hard work and strife was lost once Tails couldn't hold it any longer. Not that she blamed him, not in the slightest, but this was the reality. He wet himself.
Even he didn't seem to believe it. He wasn't even acknowledging it, just standing in the same position as his pee, a testament to how bursting his bladder was, flooded out. But the sound, sight, and smell couldn't be ignored. Tails didn't even wait to finish before he started apologizing. “S-sorry, Blaze. I tried, really, but it wasn't enough.”
“I believe you. I saw how hard it was for you to hold that, I'm actually impressed you made it that long. Sorry it had to be just not long enough.” Blaze had already dealt with another kid with a full bladder, so even if Cream made it without a full-out accident, she still had experience for sympathy. And Tails was still going strong, the splattering of new urine into the puddle loud and echoing. “Wow, you...really had to pee.”
“Absolute limit,” he whispered. Like it was accentuating that limit, it started quieting down now, his urine finally running out after over a minute of a heavy waterfall between his legs. “Ahh...” His voice trailed off, he didn't look particularly happy, but he acknowledged the empty feeling, a good kind. “At least that feels way better.” He straightened his posture, putting his hands to his side, letting Blaze clearly see the damage done. His once-white gloves were now dyed yellow on the inside, still dripping just to the side of the puddle. His fur, his crotch and down his legs, was matted and stuck together, no discoloration from his natural hue but a lot of shine. Even the ankles of his shoes had plenty of yellow soaked into them.
That part was over, at least, but they still had more to deal with. How are we going to explain this to Sonic when he gets back? Is there even a way to hide it? Inspiration struck the cat. “Tails, I've got another idea, and this one should work out better. We need to clean this up before Sonic comes back, and you too. You get in the water, wash all that off, I got the puddle. You built this thing fireproof, right?”
“Uh, sure. I mean, the sun canopy would burn, but I definitely made the ship with flamethrowers fireproof.” Realization hit him, why Blaze would ask about that specification. “What are you planning to burn?”
“I'm not burning anything, I can just use my fire to evaporate the puddle. Then you'll be clean and nothing on the ship will give it away. Well, except the smell, that'll only get worse.”
Tails considered this, moving his hand to stroke his face in thought before realizing that would be a terrible idea. “Wait until I get out of the water, that way I can deal with the smell. Until then, I'll be swimming at the front of the Ocean Tornado, so you can do whatever you want back here for a few minutes.” He winked at Blaze.
She got it, and she smiled that she was being given the courtesy. “Thanks. Watching you go was really not making it easier on me.” She crossed her legs and bounced once.
“It's the least I could do after you tried to help me so much.” Blaze sidestepped out of the path of the door so Tails could leave, trying his best to limit the drops falling off his body as he jumped off the back of the boat into the water, swimming around the edge to the front.
She watched him swim away, and when the front of the ship blocked him from view, Blaze stepped to the waist-high wall of the back deck. Tails gave me a distraction, but I still could really use this pee. She had better luck than Tails, nothing in sight as she reached up to her chest and pulled her tights down, dropping them to her ankles. Her bladder, realizing she was close to letting go, leaked a few more spurts into her panties, which were thankfully black and hid the few stains. She started rubbing her thighs together to relieve some pressure until she could drop her panties too. Undressed, she positioned her hands around her privates to give herself forward force, and finally started peeing.
Phew...that feels good. It wasn't nearly the loud splattering Tails made, but the light tinkle sound as her steady release hit the ocean's surface was satisfying. Blaze sighed as the pressure on her bladder diminished. She didn't realize it earlier because of the comparison to Tails' pain, but she needed to go pretty bad, now was a good time to take care of it. She could have held it to the island, but it wouldn't have been comfortable, peeing off the side of the boat, as crude as it seemed, was the better option. At least she had privacy this time, instead of Cream watching her. And I didn't have to see Tails' penis, either. Seeing Cream's privates was a little awkward. Didn't turn out that bad, even for Tails.
Nearly a minute later and her stream stopped, the few remaining drops falling into her panties at her feet. I have 8 years and holding practice on him, and I still couldn't compare to Tails. She winced as she imagined how much it must have hurt to hold that much, even for her. She pulled her panties up, tights followed, and all was well. Tails swam back just then, almost like he was waiting for her to finish, and climbed back into the boat, even more soaking but cleaner.
“You ready to clean this up,” Blaze asked. Tails nodded, and the two walked into the cabin, leaving the doorway open and standing in front of the puddle. Blaze snapped her finger and the puddle started steaming and evaporating, as she remembered too late to cover her nose. Tails had the correct amount of foresight, he closed his nostrils and stood on the side of the puddle opposite the door, facing away from both. As the room's heat increased, his twin tails spun (somehow not propelling him forward) and blew it all off the boat. With this system, it only took a few minutes without tools until all was better. Blaze's job finished first, but Tails stopped not long after, and both of them could only detect the faintest scent after uncovering their noses.
Tails flashed a thumbs up, and Blaze noticed that propeller spin dried him off pretty well too. “Worked out pretty well, Blaze. No evidence left!” Well, my panties are still a little wet, but no one is looking at that. “Hey...thanks for all that help. I don't know what I would have done without it.”
“Well, you probably would have taken the first opportunity you had if you were by yourself. But I'm a princess, it's my duty to help others, and you really needed it. Just...try not to ask for my assistance like this again.” The longer until I have to help someone else with a bathroom need again, the better.
“Don't worry. The longer until I'm in a predicament like this again, the better.” He smiled, when his gaze went downwards. “You burned the floor, I'll have to fix that when we get back to Southern Island.”
Blaze looked too, and sure enough, the part of the wood paneling that the puddle sat upon was now blackened and charred. “Hey, don't blame me! I only had to use it because of you!”
Edited May 26, 2016 by Captain L
(see edit history) |
"'Eggman's Incredible Interstellar Amusement Park'?" Blaze the Cat read over the sign a few times, gazing upon the visage of the bald doctor with the giant mustache. And more importantly, how this Eggman was the one much less familiar to the feline princess. "So, I've returned to Sonic's world. I don't understand how dimensional travel is this fickle." Despite their different planes of existence, Blaze had been crossing paths with the Blue Blur quite frequently as of late.
Now, how do I get back? The previous times dimension-hopping was involved, it was because of the two sets of Emeralds reacting to each other, thanks to a plot between this Eggman and her Eggman Nega, and stopping them set everything right. But now... "There's no way Eggman Nega is involved with a dumb scheme like this. Which means..."
"Who do they think they're kidding?! The future is nothing like this!" And it appeared she was not alone, with someone looking over the large map sign not far from her position, someone she had never seen before, a hedgehog with pointed quills and white fur. An almost Sonic? Is he another alternate universe counterpart, like me? "Hey, there," she greeted, walking towards this stranger.
The mystery hedgehog jumped up in surprise upon hearing her voice, turning around quickly and extending his outstretched palm. And suddenly, as if in response, Blaze couldn't move. She was held in place, lifted into the air, unable to fight back, only able to watch as this hedgehog realized who he had grabbed. "Oh, sorry about that," he sheepishly apologized, relaxing his hand and allowing Blaze to drop. "Thought you were one of Eggman's goons."
"No, I'm not," Blaze corrected. "I'm-"
"Blaze the Cat. I'm aware."
Now it was time for Blaze to be on the defensive. "Why do you know me," she warily questioned, lifting a hand, ready to ignite.
"My name is Silver, I'm from the future. There are records of your accomplishments in my time."
"Wait...from the future?!" It wasn't so much that she didn't believe the concept of time-travel, with all the other powers the Emeralds possessed, but the reasoning behind it. "So what are you doing here? I'm sure Eggman's up to something, but does it really have ramifications like that?"
"No, that's not quite it," Silver laughed. "According to history, Sonic takes this place down before it even opens, so I wanted to see what it was like. It could have been a really fun amusement park."
"Oh, so Sonic is here?"
"Yeah, he and Tails are taking care of things. Said they didn't even need my help, so..."
"So you've been experiencing the attractions." A pretty lighthearted stance to take in unfamiliar territory run by a known villain, but if there's nothing else to do... "Has anything been good?"
"Well, the World of Tomorrow is a joke. The future is a lot less bleak than that! Haven't had the chance to look at anything else, but I was heading in the direction of the Asteroid Coaster next." Silver extended his hand in an invitation. "Do you want to come with me? I'm still pretty new to the whole hero thing, and I'd like to learn a thing or two from you."
Asteroid Coaster? Like, a roller coaster? Oh, anything but heights... Blaze's mind began racing with some sort of excuse to turn the offer down, some way that wouldn't expose her acrophobia.
Her savior turned out to be Eggman's voice blaring across the crackly PA system. "In the unlikely event of an emergency, please find the nearest escape pod. For anyone not named Eggman, your escape pod can be found back on the planet, still being assembled in the factory."
Blaze felt a weight lift off her shoulders. "Perhaps it would be better to avoid any of the real 'attractions'. For our own well-being."
"Yeah, I can see that. I'm sure one of the other parks is...safe," Silver shrugged, which did nothing to ease Blaze. All the hedgehog could offer was running between Blaze and a nearby food stall. "Maybe we should get a snack first?"
The princess looked the vendor over, very cautiously. I don't know if I trust the food here enough to put it into my body. Yet, even as she wanted to refuse, there was some part of her that disagreed. Namely, her dry mouth. Still, it's been some time since I've had a drink. Just that can't hurt, right? "I'll just take a beverage."
Silver nodded and strutted up to the counter, laying his elbow on the barrier, catching the attention of the robotic attendant. "Hello, I'll have a...er, a..." His voice faded off as he began looking at the odd items on the hanging menu. "Some Egg Candy, thanks."
Blaze joined Silver at the bar, instead preferring to make her decision before opening her mouth. "A small Chaos Cola for me."
"Of course." The robot turned its back, pulling a small box from a larger package on the floor, and putting a paper cup under the spout, where it was quickly filled, stuck a cap and plastic straw on, and both items were handed over to the patrons. "Special offer for customers on the NEGATIVE FIRST day of opening! First purchase is free!"
Silver and Blaze reached out and took their respective items, slowly and warily. "T-thanks? No catch," Silver questioned, receiving no response.
Not that this wasn't also on her mind, but Blaze had something else she was wondering about. "This is really a small cup?" Indeed, her drink was on the large side, big enough that she could have fit her arm inside, almost up to the elbow. Once again, now that their transaction was complete, the service robot didn't even register their existence anymore. "Fine. Can I at least get a napkin?" No response.
"I've got it." A napkin from the back of the stall began floating through the air, passing the unresponsive robot by without an objection, landing in Silver's outstretched hand, offering the paper to Blaze. "Here you go."
Blaze took the napkin and wrapped it around her cup, putting her lips to the straw and taking a short sip. "So, what is it with that power of yours? Where did that come from?"
As the conversation began, the two started walking down a path opposite their starting positions. "My psychokinesis? I don't know, I was just born with it. Same with your fire powers, I suspect."
"You really do know everything about me, don't you?"
"Everything about your adventures in this world and with Sonic, at least. How you were brought here by your Emeralds and your Eggman, how Sonic ended up in your world for a second adventure, nothing major."
Good, sounds like he doesn't know about the more...embarrassing portions of those journeys. Cream and Tails don't say anything. "Then I say it's only fair that you tell me a little about yourself. Why do you know Sonic?"
"He helped me on a mission to stop one of Eggman's distant descendants, with a camera that could trap anyone in its pictures. Ever since then, I've been keeping a close eye on his timeline."
"A...camera? And time travel? Are things always so weird when I'm not around?"
"There's a lot of strangeness, no doubt, even if I don't know it. This might sound odd, but I've got this nagging feeling we've met before, and I can't possibly place why."
Now that he mentioned it, Blaze also noticed a niggling inkling when she looked at Silver's face. "I...I think I know what you mean. Like, we've had this whole odyssey together, yet not. And it's really bothering me."
"Well, maybe it'll come back to us if we hang out for the day. I'm sure there'll be something fun." Silver looked downwards and shifted his feet. "I mean, if you want to."
Well, I imagine I still have duties in my home dimension, but...it's not like I have any idea how to get back. Could be worth taking a day off. "Maybe I can be of assistance if I better know what Eggman's up to this time. Let's see what's this amusement park has."
A smile broke across Silver's face. "Yeah, that sounds good! Let's go!" He began running off, at a speed slow enough for Blaze to effortlessly keep up, even while drinking more of her soda.
---------------
Ohhh...I don't want to imagine how much worse this would be if I had ordered a bigger drink. Blaze had finished her beverage quickly, and as the two explored the park, discovering each attraction more dangerous than the last, the soda had its time to work its way through her system. And now, the consumed Chaos Cola was wreaking havoc on her insides like an enraged water god. Why is it, every single time I team up with anybody, I always need to use the bathroom?
When the urge first appeared, Blaze had no reason to worry. She wasn't in the middle of the desert or the sea this time. She was in an amusement park, there would be public restrooms and the problem would be solved without incident. However, as time continued to pass, and Blaze kept her eyes peeled, she kept coming up empty-handed. Not a single bathroom in sight. I know Dr. Eggman is evil, but he can't be that cruel, can he?
By now, her bladder had progressed to a very uncomfortable state. As the two wandered through the Tropical Resort, Aquarium Park (where the vast amounts of water tortured Blaze with the reminder of how she had relieved herself in the ocean last time), the entrance to the closed-off Planet Wisp, Sweet Mountain (which was a short visit after Silver complained of a sugar-induced stomachache after eating the full box of Egg Candy), it was a lot of walking and no peeing. Her steps had become more rigid, her legs would press together whenever they would stop, and an upper fang poked her bottom lip.
And Silver was still none the wiser, not even the slightest clue that something was ailing Blaze. He had lost his energy and was moving lethargically, not unlike Blaze, meaning he had a perfectly non-humiliating explanation for the cat's attitude. He wanted to be considerate, as he stopped by a metal bench. "Do you want to take a break," he offered, practically panting.
Blaze could not deny that walking all across an orbiting satellite, all while keeping a steady grip on her bladder, had taken its toll on her energy and spirit, even her trained legs were sore after walking in an awkward posture. The chance to sit down would be welcome, but she couldn't. I haven't seen a ladies' room yet, if there is one, it's in the last park. In Starlight Carnival. I don't have the time to stop now. "I can handle a bit of legwork, Silver" she claimed, slowly pressing her thighs together to relieve a minuscule amount of pressure.
Silver's face fell and his arms drooped. "Oh, I figured you'd want to rest, with those heels and all."
That's...a very good point, actually. "I think you're the first to be concerned about that. I appreciate it," she smiled a little, as much as she could given her current discomfort. "But these are my shoes, I'm plenty able to run in these. They're really no concern."
"Really? Wow, that's pretty cool. Or, maybe in your case, pretty hot?" Silver chuckled at his little joke, and only several seconds later did he realize what he had actually said. "Wait, I didn't mean it like that! I wouldn't say that! Not that it's a wrong thing to say, it's not inaccurate, it's just-"
"Silver, stop talking."
"Right. Sorry."
"Well, we're so close to seeing the entire park, I just want to get it done as soon as possible." And find a bathroom as soon as possible! "Maybe that's how I'll find the way back to my dimension." Or find a toilet!
"Oh yeah, you just ended up here, didn't you? I used the Chaos Emeralds, so I wonder if Chaos Control can hop dimensions too."
That's an interesting thought, but now is not really the time to slowly deliberate. "Let's just see what Starlight Carnival has to offer. I have to admit, however, I'm not expecting much, going by Eggman's track record."
A fleet of airships began lifting off from inside the park, and Silver got an idea. He bent forward in a ready stance, one foot placed further back as his brow furrowed with determination. "Race you to the shipyard!"
Race? With Silver? I know I'm kind of handicapped at the moment, but...this won't even be a competition. She was ready to decline, but Silver looked so eager, she couldn't bring herself to step on his pride. "Alright, you're on." She started with a fiery boost, rocketing into Starlight Carnival, her last hope for a porcelain miracle.
---------------
Agh...Silver's too slow... Blaze was hardly able to run at her full speed, not without springing a little leak, yet she had still left Silver in the dust, and was waiting by the shipyard, as she had been doing for the last twenty minutes. She was alone, not even a robot in sight, giving the princess the freedom to shift her weight from foot to foot in a little dance, to press her hands against the front of her pants with noticeable force.
And, in her dash, she had kept an eye out for a bathroom, more than ready to veer off the course and make a pit stop should one cross her path. Of course, nothing caught her attention. "How does this whole giant amusement park not have a single bathroom? I really need to go here!" She began bouncing on her heels, careful to not slip in the bobbing.
At that moment, as if specifically to taunt her, Eggman's voice blared over the speakers. "Attention, the anti-gravity toilets on this level are out of order. We are sorry for this inconvenience and hope you can hold it for another 20,000 light years."
Blaze blinked in shock multiple times in rapid succession, stunned into silence. A solid few seconds passed before she could respond. "So not only can I not find a single one of these supposed restrooms, but now, even if I did, I can't get in?!" The implication was enough to send her desperation shooting upwards like a rocket, and she needed to slam her knees together, grip her crotch tightly, and make a few cute squeals to avoid leaking. Her chest heaved and tail swung as she worked up the fortitude to beat out her bladder's waves, shutting her eyes to focus on the imperative task at hand.
And she succeeded. "Eep!" Mostly. She was a desperate princess, her bladder could no longer be satiated by simple holds and dances. No, she needed to leak, and she did just that. A spurt of hot urine squirted out, rapidly soaking into her panties in a tiny splotch, followed by another, and yet another. Her squirming and shaking sped up as she clutched herself tighter, squeezing the dampness further across her underwear, sticking them to her private parts as she pleaded to hold on. Only now, now that she had been pushed to the verge of an accident, did she get her wish. Only now that she was bursting and in ten times more pain after the tease of relief.
Now...now what?! Time was running out for poor Blaze, and she had no bathrooms to fall back on. "So...guess it's going to be somewhere weird...again," she sighed. Still, she began scanning the environment for anything that could be a decent toilet replacement, which was a criteria starting to include everything at this point. Plastic palm trees, the walls of the terrain, the idea of simply going off the side into space, each one was a possibility, and she slightly hated it. "Why does this keep happening to me? Ugh, at least I'm alone this time..."
"Hugh...hah...Blaze, you're...you're too fast..." Stumbling and choking, Silver finally crossed the finish line, only looking like he passed out five times on the way over. "This place is...really big..." He took a few deep breaths, hands on his knees to support him, before he could finally muster the energy to stand up and look at his feline companion. "Um, Blaze...what's wrong?"
Blaze tried to stand up straight and look dignified, she really did, but she was just too far gone. If she let go of her crotch now, urine would flood out of her in a heartbeat, she had no choice but to continue her dance, no matter how much Silver was looking. If anything, she picked up the pace, running on the spot and crossing her legs like a pretzel probably sold somewhere in the amusement park. She didn't even know what she could possibly say at this point, to save her dignity. "D-don't look..."
In her defense, the sight stunned Silver speechless too. "O-oh, that's...that's a p-problem...a-and I'm sure that soda isn't helping..."
"I fear I already know the answer, but you haven't seen any bathrooms today, have you?"
"Um..." The hedgehog took a few seconds to think, all the while Blaze was suffering under the duress of her own body, silently begging him to hurry up. "None that I've seen. At least, none close enough for you to make it to. I mean, unless you're really hiding some inner strength. Not that I need to know, just-"
"Silver!"
"Right, sorry. So, what's your plan now?"
"It's kind of difficult to have a plan when there simply isn't a path out. I mean, aside from simply doing it anywhere. And I really might soon..."
Silver reeled back in wide-eyed shock. "Wait, really?! But...you're a girl! There has to be something better!"
"If you define wetting my pants as 'better', because I don't really see any other options." By this point, Blaze had grown tired of others assuming she couldn't pee outside just because of her gender.
"Yeah, but...in view of all those cameras? Are you sure that's a good idea?"
"Yes I'm...cameras?" She hadn't noticed any cameras prior to now, but now that she was on the lookout for them, they started appearing everywhere. On every lamppost, on the corner of every building, even a few flying badniks high in the sky, security cameras pointed and recording in every direction. No matter where she did her business, Eggman could see. "You're kidding me! Everything has to go wrong at on-ah!"
"W-what is it?!"
"Leaked! Leaking! Leaking a lot!" A tear began to form on the corner of Blaze's eye, and she almost fell over as she contorted her legs into a weird position to hold as best as she could. No one could fault her flexibility.
Silver felt his heart drop, watching this capable woman wrestle with herself, clearly at her absolute limit, while he was helpless to do anything for her. She was going to pee herself in front of him, and the most he could do was avert his eyes. "This is always how it is! I want to protect what I care about, but in the end, I'm useless! It's always Sonic who saves the day, while I can't do anything but sit on the sidelines!" In anguish, he gazed into his open palm.
That's where he saw the glowing cyan ring on his glove, the conduit for his psychokinetic power. "My power..." That was the epiphany he needed, as he extended his arm towards one of the cameras, pouring his power out and closing his hand. Without any visible connection, the camera crushed into itself, sparking and sizzling as it fell from its mount, and a proud smile spread across his muzzle. "Blaze! I've got it!"
"G-got what?" She couldn't even gather the energy to look at Silver, instead choosing to focus everything she had on her bladder, a necessity now.
"I can take out the cameras wherever you pick, and you'll have privacy!"
Blaze couldn't show any proper reaction to the plan, instead gritting her fangs even harder, but that didn't mean she was angry. Just impatience to overshadow all impatience. "Then get going! Fast! Just pick somewhere!"
"R-right!" He began bolting his head around, looking for the place closest to Blaze where she could hide herself and the unclean actions she was about to perform. Too bad that Blaze had become unable to move in a very open space, she wasn't especially close to any sort of private barrier. The closest she had was an unmanned souvenir stand a real distance away. "Guess that'll have to do..." All of a sudden, he became a sharpshooter, disabling every single camera in that spot in the shadows, plus a few extra because he didn't know what exactly each one could see. It actually went by pretty quickly, but when every second counted, it couldn't be fast enough, it must have seemed like twelve eternities to Blaze by the time Eggman's eyes had been eliminated. And with no other badniks in sight... "Blaze! It's done! You can-"
As Silver turned to face Blaze with the good news, he was met with an unusual, shocking, and maybe slightly intriguing sight: the princess of the Sol Dimension on her knees, in much the same contorted holding position as previously, but with the key difference of the area of her white pants around her gloves quickly turning a yellow shade, streaking down her thighs, forming a puddle beneath her rear as her tail splashed it around. It was too late, she had been pushed past her breaking point. Blaze the Cat was peeing herself.
"No, it's not over yet! I can still help! I can still be the hero today!" Using both hands, Silver gripped that nearby gift stand they had been eyeing, tensing his fingers as he took hold of the heavy booth, moving it inches at a time as it scraped across the ground. "Ghgh! W-what's in this thing?!" However, even with this psychokinesis being tested, he didn't falter. "You'll end up behind the cover of this thing, one way or the other, Blaze!" That determination gave him the strength to lift it upwards, and without friction, placing it in front of the cat was easy, and it dropped with a loud thud. His face turning red from exertion and...other feelings, Silver swung to face the opposite direction and covered his ears. "Do it, Blaze!"
Blaze had retreated into her own closed-off world as soon as her need to pee had grown to be too much to bear, but no matter how deep in concentration she was, there was no way she could miss the crash of a wooden stall less than a foot next to her. "W-what is t-that?" She had also been unable to hear Silver amidst the agony, but regardless, this object appearing next to her, to cover her, was nothing short of a miracle, and she wasn't going to question it.
With a renewed fire in her eyes, and plenty of warmth in her tights, Blaze jumped to her feet in a squat, clawing at the tall hem of her white bodysuit, yanking the thin fabric down her chest and past her crotch in a mad frenzy. "Ew, the wetness..." Sliding the damp legs down her own, tainting her fur with the moistness as the garment continued to stick at every point it could until they came to a bunched up rest at her knees, was hardly a pleasant sensation. Not to mention the trickles she couldn't hold in continuing to soak her black underwear as they shot out right onto the floor.
"N-now...my p-panties..." Just one more piece of clothing between her privates and the open air, and she could let her bladder flow with reckless abandon. "J-just...p-pull them...do-dowAH!" One thin undergarment was clearly not enough to convince her body not to pee yet, her pants were off and that was enough. If the princess thought she was leaking a full stream now, she was sorely mistaken, for the gush that followed when her bladder gave up the hold outshone it by several degrees of magnitude. If her panties weren't already drenched before, they were soaked with urine front to back in only a second now.
And that was just the beginning. Before she could even blink, the decent puddle already beneath her began growing rapidly, rippling outwards with strong waves, with a thick layer of foamy bubbles floating on the surface. The impact of her torrential downpour was enough to force the puddle at the collision point apart, meaning the sound of liquid hitting the metal ground never stopped, was never replaced with pure water noises. Just the deafening crash of a waterfall, with her genitals as the source. A thin haze of steam, befitting a princess of fire, rose off the golden pond, drawing out another layer of sweat beyond the one caused by straining.
That wasn't even bringing the smell into it. Whether it was an ingredient in the Chaos Cola she had filled up on, or maybe just the time in her bladder giving it an aroma, whatever the case, her urine had a stifling stench, one almost too much for her sensitive kitty nose to cope with. She would have clenched her nostrils shut to avoid the odor, if her hands weren't placed firmly on her bent knees, anything to keep her on her feet as her muscles went limp in the overwhelming relief.
And what a relief it was. "HaaaAaaHhahahAHhaha," she moaned, her voice cracking and changing scale multiple times in the same breath. It wasn't exactly a "pleasant" release, her bladder was stretched and exhausted, and it returning to its normal size was pretty uncomfortable. Not to mention the whole "soaking her panties as they clung to her lower body, sticking to and tracing the contours of her girlhood and butt" thing. Yet, even with all that, Blaze forced a smile out, letting the tension wash out with the flood. She was in such good spirits, in fact, she didn't even notice the hanging sides of her jacket sitting in the puddle, collecting urine.
Silver wasn't having quite the same good time. Though he had covered his ears, the seal wasn't tight enough to truly cut off the cacophony of crashes and splashes emanating from behind that stand. Part of it was simple second-hand embarrassment, hearing someone in the midst of exposing themselves, performing an act Silver would almost rather die than go through with. But also, even more prominently, was this new feeling, this tightness in his chest, this heat building on his cheeks. He was...intrigued? Like, he couldn't stop thinking about what was really going down behind that trinket stall. "I really shouldn't be thinking these sorts of things about her...I'm going to hell for this."
And on the other side, Blaze couldn't really care. She was swimming in a pool of bliss as deep as vast as her pee puddle, in a rare moment, she had let her guard down. All that mattered now was draining herself of her warm fluids, a task whose conclusion was fast approaching. It took some time as she continued to spray, but eventually, the fire hose down below calmed down. Now it just looked like she was taking a normal pee on the floor, if one were to ignore the gargantuan volume already present. "Phew," she sighed as what was once a slamming stream diminished into a tiny trickle.
Then, after a full minute, Blaze the Cat had no more urine to give. Of course, there was no shortage of drips falling off her underwear, what with the vast, rapidly cooling saturation in the panties, but there wasn't much she could do about that. "I'm not about to leave my wet panties lying around in another dimension." Even if it was her decision, she still winced at the thought of sitting in the soaked undergarments for the rest of the day.
Too bad she didn't have the same luxury of being able to make a decision whether to keep her tights or not, because boy, were they in rough shape. The white color made the dark stain impossible to miss, and the thin material became almost completely transparent under the wetness, leaving a high percentage of the crotch area visible, even while fully dressed. "Guess Silver's gonna know my underwear preference..." But she didn't have a choice, so up they went, yanking the hem to their snug spot up at her breasts, tripling her discomfort in one simple pull.
I really don't want to keep looking at my handiwork. Redressed and presentable to the best of her ability, Blaze ran away from the collection of her shame, back out in the open. And to her relief, things were much as she left them, empty and devoid of fun. And there was Silver, fidgeting nervously, stiffly looking the other way. He's freaking out about this. Good, then he probably didn't sneak a peek. "Silver, you don't need to be so tense anymore. I'm finished," she declared, hovering her hands over her crotch and blocking the view.
Silver jumped like a frightened cat when he heard Blaze speak, scrambling to turn around. "B-Blaze, y-you're b-back!" As he tried to talk, his eyes kept darting around, notably shifting downwards several times. "Oh no...was I t-too slow? You didn't make it..."
Blaze crossed her arms to hide her stain as best as she could, still leaving a good percentage visible. "Y-yes I did! I mean, a bit faster on your part would have been welcome, but I still made it! You know, mostly..."
"You really call that mostly? I mean, aside from your pants, there's also your coat, and your tail, and-"
"Silver. Be quiet." Ugh, I didn't even realize my tail got wet.
"Oh, sorry. Still, I didn't do my part in helping you, I couldn't be the hero you needed." The hedgehog's head fell in shame.
Confused, Blaze's eyebrow cocked. "Hero? Silver, I just needed to use the bathroom, I didn't need some grand hero. I mean, I'm grateful for the assistance, but it doesn't really matter, don't beat yourself up for not being perfect about it."
"It does! Every time I get involved in a fight for what I hold close, it's always someone else who takes the spotlight! Even when I had this chance to do something good, I still fell short! What am I supposed to do if my future is threatened, and I can't save it?"
Great, I'm the one who wet herself, and now I'm the one giving the motivational speech. Hope he can even take me seriously like this. "You're naive, Silver. It doesn't matter who deals the finishing blow, so long as you never give up fighting. You don't need to do it yourself, you can rely on others and use their strength as your own. That's a lesson I've already needed to learn."
Silver took a second to think it over, and once it had settled in, he started to laugh. "Let me guess, your first time meeting Sonic wasn't an amicable encounter."
"Wow, that's an amazing guess. Very impressive, Sil...you just read about it in a history book, didn't you?"
"Eheheheheh...maybe I already knew." The hedgehog of the future crossed his arms and nodded, mulling over the advice. "I'll get stronger. That way, Sonic will know that the future is in capable hands. That's why I want to learn from you, I already know what you can offer."
"Well, it's nice to hear someone with so much faith in me, but..." Blaze began scratching her cheek, quickly flushing pink. "If you're going to use me as your benchmark, could you please pretend today never happened?"
"Of course. I wouldn't hold this against you, I know this is a one-time mistake. History records never say anything about this blunder repeating itself, after all."
And I've never been happier for history records to be incomplete! "Thank you. Now, if we're done making you feel better..." With speeds expected from the princess that could keep up with Sonic, Blaze crossed her legs and did everything possible to cover her crotch. "This is really uncomfortable. Could you please help me one more time?"
"Oh! Of course, but...I don't really carry around spare pants. Maybe the gift shop has some...that...fit you? ...yeah, it sounded stupid to me too. Could you use your fire to dry yourself off?"
"If I wanted to burn off my clothes, sure, and I think I'm exposed enough already."
"Aquarium Park? So you can wash off?"
"I'd...really rather not go into water. Maybe if I could find some other way to dry off, I could live with these for the rest of the day."
Once again, Eggman's voice over the PA system turned out to be just the answer she needed, right when she needed it. "There’s no line at Bake Me Crazy, the ride that simulates what it’s like to be baked like a cake. The ride itself lasts an amazing 20 to 25 minutes, or until golden brown. Not recommended for our guests who are sensitive to temperatures exceeding 350 degrees."
Blaze and Silver looked back at each other, and Blaze smirked. "I think I can take that heat. Sweet Mountain? Race you there!" Without even waiting for any response, Blaze took off, leaving a trail of fire behind her.
And that freaked Silver out. "W-wait, Blaze! Oh man, I'll never catch up at this rate." Still, he started running, only able to watch as the princess disappeared over the horizon. "Can my first lesson be how to run that fast?!" |
I read this today on AO3 and really liked it. It didn't seem like the author was on here, so I don't think it was ever posted here. I figured I'd share it with you guys.
-
Everyone says they're getting along better lately. Their teachers have commented on how much better friends they've become, and how nice it is to see they've put their rivalry behind them. Sakura isn't sure whether to be dismayed that their teachers are apparently so bad at reading them, or pleased that she and Ino are apparently sneaky enough to confuse people.
Put their rivalry behind them? Hardly.
It's just different now, is all. A few years ago, when they weren't really thinking further than being the first one to hold hands with a boy—okay, with Sasuke—their rivalry didn't have a lot of depth to it, either. But now, frankly, they have a lot more hormones than that. It's not just the guys who spend all their time worked up, even if a lot of them seem oblivious to the fact. As Sakura and Ino have gotten more in tune with what their bodies want, they've started finding better ways to take out their frustrations on each other. Add that to the fact that they're actually getting to learn some real skills, now that Lady Tsunade is in office? Yeah, driving each other crazy has gotten a lot more interesting.
Sakura has the upper hand today. They don't exactly have an agreement about it or anything, but they more or less take turns, finding new ways to use jutsu to drive each other to distraction. For a long time Ino had an advantage there, with the mind-altering jutsu she's learned from her family, but lately Sakura has gotten some pretty sneaky tricks from her advanced training with Lady Tsunade.
They had lunch together after Sakura got through her morning shift at the hospital, and they're going shopping for a little while before it's time for Ino to go home and help out at the family's flower shop. Ino had practically a whole pot of tea at lunch, and she's already starting to shift from one foot to the other uncomfortably when Sakura has a fabulous, terrible idea.
She uses her chakra to pull a tiny sphere of water out of her water bottle as Ino leans over a display counter, looking at a pair of earrings, then drapes herself over Ino's back. "Ooh, are you thinking of getting those?" she asks. She presses her hand low to Ino's belly, using the jutsu that Lady Tsunade just taught her to move the water through the protective membrane of skin, guiding it carefully to Ino's bladder. "They'd look really cute on you!"
Ino laughs, a little too high-pitched, a little too sharp. "You think so?" Then, in an undertone, she hisses, "What the hell did you just do?"
"Oh, you can't handle it?" Sakura murmurs before she raises her voice again. "Definitely. They'd match your eyes."
The shopkeeper beams at them, as if all she's hearing is the fake conversation—"Well, if you think so, Sakura-chan—" and she doesn't hear a word of the muttered, "Like I'd lose to you, whatever dirty tricks you come up with."
Sakura beams at Ino, all sweetness and light, as Ino buys the earrings, and then takes her arm to walk with her through the market. "You're a pervert," Ino mutters.
"That's a laugh coming from you," Sakura replies through a fixed smile. She takes her time browsing through the market, waiting for an opportunity to attack again. It takes very little liquid to make a big difference inside the body; she's done enough unpleasant chores around the hospital to know how much fluid fills an average person's bladder. The infusions she's making now—she slips in a second one when they have to stop and wait for a produce-laden cart to cross the street in front of them—are tiny, compared to the amounts she was handling in practice. But when she practiced, she was passing fluids through the body to cleanse it, pushing them in with chakra from one hand and pulling them back out again with the other. Now, she's just adding pressure without releasing it again.
And Ino's getting uncomfortable, however much she might talk big. Her face is flushing a little, and she chews on her lip in what looks a lot like frustration. "I can't believe you," she mutters, and then stops in her tracks when Sakura tries to steer them toward a water garden. "Sakura—"
"Already at your limit?" Sakura asks, and that gets Ino moving again, stomping along beside her and glowering as if she could intimidate her own body into submission. They don't talk about the way they do this very much—it's all very unspoken-understanding—but Sakura knows perfectly well that Ino's only this easy to goad when she doesn't mind playing along. It's like agreeing, sort of.
The water garden has such pretty fountains—it's always seemed like the sort of place that Sakura might want to go on a date. Well. She glances sideways, watching Ino try to keep a straight face instead of grimacing at the sound of running water. This is sort of like a date, at the same time that it's very different.
"It's relaxing, isn't it?" Sakura asks, tipping her water bottle to pour a little more into her hand.
Ino watches her move, watches as Sakura charges her little palmful of water with chakra so it will move at her command. "You're merciless," she says. "Wicked." Still, she doesn't try to block when Sakura reaches for her, just makes a strangled little whimper at the touch. Her bladder feels full and swollen under Sakura's fingers.
"Come on, you're already plotting how to pay me back," Sakura says. The needy, uncomfortable look on Ino's face makes her want to squirm, too, makes her feel warm between her thighs.
"Y-you think I can still plot when I feel like this?" Ino says, her voice hovering on the edge of hysterical laughter.
Sakura bites the inside of her mouth, trying not to let herself react visibly, but she can feel her cheeks getting hot. "One more time?" she asks, holding up the water bottle. "You can take a little more, I know you can."
Ino blushes bright red, and she looks away. "I can't believe you," she says, but she nods.
She is probably at her limit by this point, so Sakura doesn't give her much more—just a little thimbleful of water, eased into her body with the careful application of chakra. Ino's breath stutters and her thighs flex, pulling her legs tight together. She makes a tiny, desperate sound and Sakura—Sakura feels her clit pulse in response. This is really different than how they used to be.
"Really full, huh," Sakura whispers. She hasn't taken her hand away, keeping the pressure of her fingers light. "Bet you can't wait to be able to let go."
Ino grimaces, then nods like it's hard for her to even move. "Come on," she says. "I can't—you are not going to make me wet myself in public."
Sakura's mouth goes dry. But that would be too much, and she knows it. That would push this little game over the line into something too mean, and she knows she wouldn't like whatever Ino dreamed up to get her back. Still, she does picture it for a long few seconds before she says, "I guess we should head back to your place, then."
She threads her arm through Ino's as they walk, because Ino keeps trying to hurry, and Sakura wants to see how much she can draw this out. She smiles and says hello to people, exchanges pleasantries, dawdles as if she's going to stop for an actual conversation once before Ino nearly manages to pull away from her and bolt.
"You're trying to drive me crazy," Ino hisses as she drags Sakura up the street. "I need to—come on, hurry."
"Almost home," Sakura says, because they are; they're turning the corner toward the flower shop and Ino's home above it. It's kind of amazing, she thinks, seeing Ino—confident, outgoing, assertive Ino—so flustered and awkward and off-balance.
"Not a second too soon," Ino says, ducking inside and bolting up the stairs. Sakura follows her.
She hasn't even really thought this part through at all, but she suddenly knows she'll be sorry if she doesn't see this through to the end, so she's right on Ino's heels, pushing her way inside before Ino can slam the bathroom door—and Ino squeaks, glaring at her. "Sakura!" she says, scandalized. She throws a sloppy punch and Sakura blocks, grabs her wrist and pins it to the wall. "Let go," Ino demands.
Sakura grins. "You first," she says. Ino struggles, and Sakura funnels chakra into her hand to keep her grip steady. She reaches down with the other hand and presses against Ino's bladder—gently at first, then a little harder as Ino squirms.
"You—ah!" Whatever she'd been about to say dissolves with the last of her resistance: she slumps against the wall with a little whine in her throat and then the front of her shorts goes dark, wet. Sakura bites her lip, presses with her fingers, massaging Ino's bladder and watching the wet spot spread. Ino is trembling, her eyes squeezed shut, this overwhelming look of relief on her face, and—and Sakura kisses her, because right at that moment it feels like she sort of has to, and the way Ino kisses back is at least halfway biting and it's good like that. It's good.
After a minute Ino pulls away from the kiss. "I need to get a shower before work starts," she says. "Since somebody made sure I was a mess."
"Sorry," Sakura says, even though she isn't really.
"Sure you are," Ino says. "Get out of here." She starts stripping as Sakura reaches for the door. "Oh, and Sakura?"
"Hmm?" Sakura stops, hand on the doorknob.
"I'm going to make you so sorry tomorrow."
"Yeah," Sakura says. "I know." Honestly? She might be looking forward to it. Just a little. |
A Song Of Ice And Fire
Daenerys Targaryen sipped from the golden goblet of wine as she thought of what the night had in store for her.
Infiltrating the city of Yunkai wouldn’t be an easy task, and for all she knew, she was risking the lives of Ser Jorah and Grey Worm by agreeing to send them with Daario Naharis.
The three men were to go into the city through the back gate, where Daario would lead Jorah and Grey Worm along with him through the back streets, so they could open the front gates for the Unsullied army to enter and invade the city.
Daenerys felt anxious at the prospect of losing her two best men. She didn’t trust Daario and for one thing, he might lead Jorah and Grey Worm to the slaughter and then cut the head of her army.
Then she would be left with nothing and her dream of conquering Westeros would be lost forever. The kind of stress and tension this thought brought upon her was beyond words. She tossed back another goblet of wine before asking Missandei to refill it for her.
“Maybe, you shouldn’t drink anymore, Your Grace,” Missandei said.
“It will be fine, I’m just worried for Ser Jorah and Grey Worm…” Daenerys said as she took another sip.
“Your worry is reasonable, my lady. Soon it will grow dark and Ser Jorah and Grey Worm will leave for Yunkai, maybe until then, you should get some rest,” the young helper girl suggested.
“No, how can I rest when my men are about to go out there and risk their lives for me?,” Daenerys replied as she paced up and down in her tent.
Understanding the delicateness of the situation, Missandei thought it would be better to leave the Queen alone for a while, until she calms down a bit. She walked out of the tent, leaving The Mother of Dragons on her own.
Daenerys poured herself some more wine, before sitting down on the divan. She felt a certain heaviness in her bladder but chose to ignore it. Her head had started to ache after all the wine and her eyes had begun to feel heavy. She laid down on the divan and closed her eyes and before she knew, her exhausted body pulled her into deep sleep.
When Daenerys had first seen Yunkai from a hill top far outside the city, she was left awestruck at the beauty and the architecture of it. But when Ser Jorah told her about the 200,000 slaves that were being held captive behind those beautiful walls, her heart bled for them. She wanted to liberate those slaves, at all costs. She couldn’t bear the thought of poor children and women suffering at the hands of a few brutal lords.
She had immediately sent a man to the city gates to tell the slavers that she would receive them at her camp and accept their surrender. On the other side, she also readied herself to invade the city if they were to turn down her offer.
Speaker of Savages, Razdal mo Eraz from Yunkai, did come along at the Khaleesi’s camp to offer terms of peace, with boxes full of gold bars as gifts for her. But Daenerys being firm in her place, declined his offer and threatened to attack the city if they refused to set the slaves free. Realizing that his chance to strike a deal with Daenerys had fallen apart, Razdal returned to his city, disappointed.
It didn’t take long for Daenerys to find out that the city of Yunkai had hired a company of sell-swords called the Second Sons, led by a Braavosi named Mero, The Titan’s Bastard. They were a horde of armed and mounted men, about 2,000 in strength. Despite warnings from Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah, Daenerys made it clear that she wished to meet the leader of Yunkai’s appointed cavalry.
When the captains of the Second Sons, Mero of Braavos, Prendahl na Ghezn and Daario Naharis came to meet Daenerys, she asked them if they would fight for her. Although they refused at first, Khaleesi’s offer to pay them more gold than Yunkai made them reconsider their options. With a promise to return with the final verdict in two days, the three men left.
Later that night while Daenerys was in her bath tub, Daario Naharis sneaked into her tent and requested her to let him join her army. As a proof of his loyalty, he offered Khaleesi the heads of his partners Mero and Prendahl, that he had carried with him in a sack.
Daario then swore his loyalty to her and told her that the entire company of Second Sons was hers to command.
The next day, Daario Naharis proposed a plan to infiltrate the city of Yunkai, that Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah agreed upon. Although Daenerys trusted her men’s wisdom, she wasn’t sure of Daario.
-----
A few hours later, Daenerys stirred awake. It took her a moment to orient herself to the unfamiliar tent and the barely familiar man standing at a distance. She was quick to recognize Ser Barristan, but her mind was soon overcome by a much more pressing need.
She had to pee, bad.
“Missandei, could you please bring me my chamber pot?” Daenerys asked as she held her bladder before sitting back up. It felt full and swollen and a distinct bladder bulge was peeking out of her tight paper silk ‘dragonscale’ wrap dress.
“I’m sorry, My Grace but I forgot to bring back your chamber pot after I emptied it and kept it for drying in the sun this afternoon ,” Missandei replied softly.
“Oh, never mind, I’ll just go outside…” Daenerys said as she got up from the divan and began to walk towards the exit of her tent.
“I’m sorry, Your Grace, but you can’t go outside, it’s too dangerous,” Ser Barristan held his hand wide to stop her, “Ser Jorah and Grey Worm have left for Yunkai with Daario Naharis. The Yunkish may retaliate any moment if they find out that we have tried to infiltrate their city. We can expect a war to break out under such circumstances. It is best for you to stay inside the tent, at least you won’t be visible to them from here.”
“But…” she began to say.
“I am sorry, but as the Queen’s guard, I have no choice, I can’t let you step out…” Ser Barristan stated in his firm voice.
“Hmm…” Daenerys nodded reluctantly and walked back to the divan with her thighs pressed together. She crossed her legs as soon as she found herself seated and took a deep breath. Her bladder was aching and she didn’t know what to do.
If she had a chamber pot, she would have pissed in it hours ago. If she had been travelling like this, she would have jumped off her horse and ran behind a bush without even waiting to tell anyone where she was going.
Squeezing her thighs together carefully, Daenerys asked. “Ser Barristan?”
“Yes, My Lady?” the old man said.
“How long do you think will it be, before it’s safe to step outside?”
“I don’t know, Your Grace.”
Her body shuddered a bit, “Is…is there a way that you can get me a chamber pot?” Khaleesi asked Missande, fighting to keep her voice from shaking.
“We don’t have any spare ones and Ser Barristan won’t let me step out to get yours,” Missande replied, “Do you need to go bad?”
Daenerys’s cheecks flushed red when she heard this. She was Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, The Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of The Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons, how could she let anyone know that she had to piss this bad, that would be so embarrassing.
“No, I was just asking, I’m fine..” Daenerys dejectedly smiled at Missandei.
Khaleesi bit her lower lip. She was growing worried now. She didn’t know how much longer she could last out like this. The waistband of her form fitting trousers was beginning to cut into her bladder, which was still expanding to contain all the liquid she had consumed.
Daenerys rubbed her outer thigh and held her breath for a split second. She couldn’t remember the last time she had to piss this bad. She hoped Ser Barristan and Missandei, wouldn’t notice her tense legs as she wriggled slightly, trying to find a more secure position.
After a few minutes, Daenerys was squirming more regularly. She tried to concentrate on other things – the beautiful landscapes that she had come across while traveling, about the miserable lives of the slaves that were trapped in Yunkai, her three majestic dragons but it wasn’t working.
Hours passed and Ser Barristan stood firm at the opening of the tent. Daenerys was growing restless now. She had to piss like a horse but couldn’t step out to relieve herself in her guard’s presence.
“S-Ser Barristan, do you think I can go out now?” Daenerys asked.
“No, Your Grace, it’s unsafe, I suggest you stay here until Ser Jorah and Grey Worm come back from their mission…” the old man replied.
Daenerys’s eyes widened in horror as she heard this. She didn’t know if she could wait any longer. She had to piss so bad that she was ready to give anything for it.
Khaleesi slid her hand near her crotch, steeling herself from squeezing between her legs. She lowered her head and exhaled slowly, closing her eyes shut.
Just then, she felt a quick spurt of urine escape, and she placed a hand over her mouth to suppress her squeal. She crossed her legs tighter and jammed her other hand into her crotch, holding tightly to regain control.
Another few minutes passed and a several more drops of urine managed to escape her tightly shut wee hole. Her muscles were beginning to shake from the effort of holding, she had to ask Ser Barristan to let her go now, or else she would wet herself.
“We’ve been waiting a long time…” Daenerys said as she rose from the divan and walked towards Ser Barristan, her bladder threatening to explode with every step, “Haven’t we?”
The old guy tilted his head and frowned his brows and lips, holding a cup of wine in his hand.
“I don’t know, you tell me, how long does it take to sack a city?” she asked, concern clearly spilling from her voice and face. She had to piss so bad that she didn’t care if Ser Jorah and Grey Worm failed in their mission. All she wanted was an opportunity to release the lake of urine inside her.
Just then Ser Barristan heard the sound of footsteps approaching their tent and he turned around to see Ser Jorah and Grey Worm walk in. The army of the Unsullied marched past the tent as Jorah said, looking towards Khaleesi, “ It was just as you said. They did not believe until it was too late. Their slave soldiers threw down their spears and surrendered.”
Daenerys couldn’t believe herself, her two most valuable men had returned safe and sound, and most of all, she couldn’t believe that they had finally won the city of Yunkai. For a brief moment, she forgot about her immense need to piss. She was so happy that their plan had finally come to fruition.
“And Daario Naharis?” Daenerys looked at Jorah. They both stared at each other for a moment before the man in question walked in.
His face covered in blood, Daario knelt before Daenerys and laid a white cloak on his bent leg to reveal a design on the cloth. It was a face, with a crown on it, “The city is yours, my queen ,” he said.
Daenerys smiled. Now she could free all the slaves who were trapped in the city, who had waited so long for their day of freedom. Now she could finally put an end to their miseries and sufferings, and give them a chance to live their lives.
But before that, she needed to piss, right now!
“Excuse me, gentlemen, I’d like to ask your pardon,” Daenerys said with a hand placed on her throbbing bladder as she moved forward to walk out of the tent. But before she could step out another long stream escaped her tired sphincters and formed a wet patch on the crotch of her pants.
“Oh no!” Daenerys gasped as she felt herself beginning to lose control.
“What’s the matter My Lady?” Ser Jorah asked, walking towards her.
“Nothing, it’s nothing…” Daenerys replied, breathing heavily as she stood there with her legs crossed tight, trying with every ounce of strength in her body to keep her flood in.
But it was too late by now, the pressure was extremely high for her to contain any longer and Daenerys feared that she might lose control if she tried to take another step.
Tears rolled down her face as long spurts of piss escaped her. It was then that the men standing there noticed the wet patch growing around the crotch of her pants.
“Please don’t look,” Daenerys cried out as she covered her face with her hands. She fought for a few more seconds before her exhausted sphincters completely gave out and her urine exploded out of her. A puddle of piss started to form beneath her feet and the wetness of her crotch grew towards her trembling knees.
Daenerys was having an accident.
“My Lady,” Missandei sighed as she saw the huge puddle forming around Khaleesi’s feet.
Daenerys tried her best to close her wee hole so she could run away from there but her body refused to obey. She felt like the spectacle would never end as she stood there, weeing for ages.
Daenerys just stood there even after she was done urinating. She couldn’t move, it was as if her legs had stopped working. She could feel her warm urine around her feet and also how her damp pants were clinging to her skin. She just stood there crying.
“Gentlemen, if you all could give Khaleesi some privacy,” Missandei said.
Hearing this, all the four men left the tent, leaving the two women alone.
Daenerys broke down into the warm pool of her urine, further soaking her pants.
“Your Grace, it’s okay, come let’s get you changed…” Missandei spoke softly.
Daenerys didn’t respond to her words. She just couldn’t stop crying now. She wanted nothing more than to dissolve in her own urine and tears.
“I’m sorry My Lady, it was my fault,” Missandei said gently.
“N-No, it wasn’t… it was nobody’s fault,” Daenerys said as she continued to sob.
“Come now, Your Grace, we must get you out of these wet clothes…” the helper girl said, holding Daenerys by her arms and helping her get up.
After Khaleesi changed out of her urine stained clothes, she, Ser Barristan, Ser Jorah, Daario Naharis and Grey Worm celebrated their victory over Yunkai with a feast.
Daenerys was apprehensive about attending the feast just after having such a humiliating accident in front of her men but then she realized something. She realized that these men loved her for being a Queen who wasn’t a royal arse, they loved her for being the people’s Queen. They loved her for who she was.
And after all she couldn’t let herself fall back now. There were cities to conquer, many lives to liberate. And most of all, across the narrow sea, Westeros awaited her. |
So since I did a sequel to one of my other stories I decided to another sequel once again with a character's role in reverse last time it was Amy this time its Michelle. Anyway hope you enjoy.
Plot: Amy (on her day off) goes to her work place Home Depot with her friend Michelle for home supplies but Michelle is faced with a desperate situation that Amy is familiar with. Can the two get out of this situation without being caught?
Amy didn't like going to work on her day off but she and Michelle realised they needed some small home supplies so they had to go there. Her only hope was that her employers didn't make her suddenly work just because she's there. Her thoughts were interrupted when she noticed a feeling of discomfort on Michelle's face.
"Michelle? Are you okay?" Amy asked her friend
"Yeah fine" Michelle lied. She wasn't. Shopping wasn't one of Michelle's favourite things but now they had been shopping for a couple hours and she hadn't peed since they left the house. Now judging by Amy noticing her discomfort her need was becoming harder to mask. Finally Amy put the last thing they needed in the trolley.
"Okay we're done here" Amy said
"Right well before we go I gotta pee so bad. Sorry I lied" Michelle said
"Nah its okay come on I'll take ya" Amy said. Amy remembered a time not too long ago when she had to pee too and with no option peed in a store display toilet. Luckily she had gotten away with it then. Finally the two arrived at the door of the toilets and found it out of order. Again.
"What out of order?" Michelle said in disbelief crossing her legs in desperation
"Fuck not this shit again" Amy whispered
"Yeah sorry again Amy. Toilets are out of order again both customer and employee. We really are out of luck are we?" Abby, Amy's co-worker said passing by while smiling with a forced smile. Amy presumed she had to pee too.
"Okay how bad do you need to go?" Amy asked her friend in concern
Michelle whined in response as she hopped around in desperation with some customers giving her odd looks. Finally Amy decided Michelle was going to have to do what she did. Pee in the display toilets.
"Come on. I know somewhere. But we have to be careful about it." Amy said as she walked off with Michelle following her trying to hide her desperation in her walk.
Michelle was wondering where this place was and why if the toilets were out of action did anyone have problems going to the bathroom. She soon got her answer when Amy stopped and arrived at their desperation.
"Well here we are" Amy said observing the display bathroom area again.
"Are you serious?" Michelle asked
"I am serious. This is sort of a secret safe haven for me when I've gotta go" Amy said
"But we'll be caught" Michelle said
"Not if we be secret so come on Michelle do you want to pee your pants?" Amy said
Not wanting that Michelle decided to trust her friend followed her to a display toilet that seemed complete with walls around it and a door that could lock. Stepping inside Michelle closed the door and locked the door with Amy standing outside on guard. Meanwhile inside Michelle put down the toilet seat and noticed how nice it looked in the shop lights. Sighing as she was about to do this she pulled down her and panties and sat on the toilet and after a few minutes finally let go. Michelle had to resist moaning in relief at the risk of being heard as her pee flowed endlessly into the bowl. Finally after what seemed like ever Michelle finally finished peeing. Shaking off any droplets Michelle stood up looking at the pee stains left in the bowl. Damn that's a lot of pee. As she was pulling up her pants and panties Michelle suddenly felt a feeling in her stomach. Groaning Michelle stumbled and sat on the toilet again and suddenly she heard something hit the toilet.
"Oh no" Michelle said. Though she had finished peeing she now realised she had to do something else. She had to take a shit and was now doing so.
Meanwhile outside Amy was looking around and everything seemed okay with only some people walking by and she waved them off. She was hoping Michelle would be done soon though. Just because she had gotten away with it once she's good at this kind of thing, often managing to avoid the police whenever she urinates in public but she didn't want her friend to get caught. Suddenly she noticed Abby coming up to her as she made herself look calm.
"Hey Abby" Amy said
"Hey Amy" Abby said crossing her legs in desperation
"Still gotta pee huh?" Amy asked
"Yeah. I don't know what to do." Abby said
"Yeah ironic when we're standing in a room full of toilets and yet we can't pee in them." Amy said
"Yeah..." Abby said pondering Amy's words. She then walked away doing a desperation walk. With that done Amy suddenly heard a groan from the toilet and then knocked on the door.
"Michelle? What's going on in there?" Amy asked.
Not hearing anything Amy opened the door at half-way carefully covering the outside as she noticed Michelle still sitting on the toilet as she then smelled something.
"Michelle... Are you taking a dump?" Amy asked
"Yes. Didn't plan on this really just sort of happened" Michelle said smiling in embarrassment
Amy smiled at her friend. No matter what happens the two always seem to take on the world and always get through it and this was no different.
"Stay there I'll find some toilet paper" Amy said closing and locking the door again as she heard people walking around. Michelle smiled at the fact she had a friend who understood her and didn't feel embarrassed when they got into situations like this. Suddenly Michelle's thoughts were interrupted when she farted and then shitted again giving a small moan after doing so.
Meanwhile Amy had arrived in the toilet roll section and noticed an open case of it. Wondering for a second why that was she then grabbed a toilet roll and was about to head back to the toilet display section but suddenly the manager approached her
"Hey Amy wasn't expecting you here today" Gregg the manager said
"Well my friend Michelle and I were picking up some stuff for the house." Amy said
"Where is she?" Gregg asked
"Oh out in the car. I was just on my way to the front desk to pay for this stuff." Amy lied.
"Well our cameras were malfunctioning for awhile but we've turned them back on and noticed someone enter one of the display toilets and didn't come out. Did you see anything?" Gregg asked
"No. Not at all" Amy lied again holding the toilet roll behind her back
"Well someone got to work her opening up one of those" Gregg pointed to the opened toilet roll pack
"Well I better be going Gregg" Amy said quickly walking past him as Gregg raised his eyebrow at her quick departure but quickly got a message saying they had finally found the person.
Eventually arriving at the display bathroom Amy ran to the toilet Michelle occupied. She then opened the door half-way again covering the outside passing her friend the toilet roll
"Here you Michelle. Now come on. I get the feeling we're about to be busted" Amy said
"Okay I'm done just need to do this" Michelle said unrolling the toilet roll about to pull a piece off as Amy then closed the door locking it again. She then saw two guards and Gregg enter the display bathroom area as she then walked around trying not to look suspicious
"Amy here to see us find the person who was willing to defy these expensive items?" Gregg asked
"Well I..." Amy's nervousness was caught off with Gregg's continued sentence
"And to think it was an employee of the shop." Gregg said
Amy didn't have time to react when she looked over and saw the two guards near another display toilet and holding their caught culprit which was none other than Abby who looked embarrassed and sad as everyone including Amy looked at her at the fact she was caught. Giving Amy a nod Gregg walked off with the two guards who took the shamed Abby out of there with her pants and panties still down around her ankles. Carefully stepping back to Michelle's toilet, Amy then knocked.
"Coast is clear" Amy said as Michelle then opened the door and stepped out
"Oh man that felt good. Can't believe we weren't caught" Michelle said
"Yeah. Did I ever tell you the first time this happened to me?" Amy asked putting her hands on her friend's shoulder as they walked out of the area.
Eventually the two went home with their items and still having got away with what they did today. Eventually their mess was discovered to Gregg's confusion as the cameras had malfunctioned when Michelle entered and thus didn't catch her and only caught Abby. Needless to say a lot of cleaning was done which meant Amy had a few more days off. When you gotta go then go depot.
THE END. Hope you enjoyed. |
Thanks for the kind comments, my friends!
Here's the 2nd installment:
Taylor And Me (Pt. 2)
No Choice In The Matter
Later that evening, i was still very excited but as the reality of what i was about to do began to sink in, i could feel my nervous anxiety beginning to rise as well. Even if it was going to be a small private show, there would still be quite a lot of people around, people i didn't know. Important, stylish, cool people. Industry heavyweights, maybe other stars... OMG, what had i gotten myself into?As i was rummaging around in my closet for something suitable to wear, all of a sudden i felt a wave of desperation coming on. When i get really nervous like that... ummm. I guess i might as well say it.... i tend to have accidents. Yes, panic attacks make me lose control of my bladder, and i actually pee my panties just like a little two year old girl.Wave, that was an understatement; it was more like a veritable tsunami, and i barely made it into the bathroom in time before i was totally wetting myself, peeing right through my white cotton lace trimmed floral pattern panties because i hadn't had enough time to pull them down as i hurriedly sat on the toilet.
As i soaked myself, i could feel the warm wetness spreading out from my crotch and wicking up the rear of my undies to dampen my backside, accompanied by the hissing sound of my pee as it squirted through my panties and the splash of it hitting the water beneath me. My breathing was coming short and fast and i had to make a determined effort to keep from hyperventilating, counting slowly in my habitual calming routine to get my emotions back under control, if not my poor bladder; that battle had already been lost now.
Once the flow had stopped and i regained a bit of my composure, i went to find my gf Norah.
She was getting dressed in the bedroom and when i told her i was thinking of canceling, that i was going to call Joe back and tell him i couldn't make it after all, she wouldn't hear of it.
She insisted i go and told me in no uncertain terms that if i didn't, i would be regretting it one way or another. Her purposeful glance over towards the paddle she always keeps hanging on the bedpost left no doubt as to at least one way i'd be regretting it if i decided not to go. If i couldn't behave like an adult, she'd punish me appropriately... she'd put me over her knees and spank me like a little girl. OMG... i usually wet myself then, too. There were tears in my eyes at that point, but i knew there was no use in arguing with her since we both knew it was for my own good that she was pushing me out of my shut-in comfort zone. So instead, i begged her to come with, but she just laughed and said she wasn't the one that Joe had invited. She wasn't mad for Taylor Swift the way i was; she preferred to listen to jazz and her Brazilian samba and bossa nova, and she had to work at the restaurant that evening anyhow.So i was on my own, like it or not.
------------------------------------------------------------------
Dressed in my black leather motorcycle jacket, some tight faded skinny jeans, a pair of black leather stiletto heels i had borrowed from Norah and a black microfiber tee shirt, with a sheer black nylon bra and matching panties underneath it all, i got out of the taxi at the backstage entrance to the club. I had my small clutch purse in one hand and my ID at the ready in the other as i walked unsteadily up to the gate in the unfamiliar high heels and the burly security guards checked the guest list."Yeah, she's on the list," one said to the other. He called up on his walkie talkie, then spoke directly to me while giving me the once over. I'm sure he couldn't help noticing me slightly squirming while i stood there; he had a huge grin on his face as he told me, "Just wait here, Joe says he'll send someone down to get you."Luckily that didn't take long, and before i knew it i was standing next to Joe onstage in the wings, watching the amazing Taylor Swift perform.
She sang, she danced, she played guitar, she even played a number on the banjo before the set was over. It was fantastic, and i was totally entranced, so much so that i even forgot that i was pretty desperate. I hadn't wanted to miss any of the show; i wasn't about to take a rest room break in the middle of a Taylor Swift set no matter how badly i needed to. i was just going to have to hold it!!!Even so, i remembered to compliment Joe on how good he made everything sound afterwards.
"Thanks, kiddo... we aims to please, y'know?"
He grinned at me and said, "Hey, if you want to stick around for a bit, we can go to the after-party."
"Joe, you know that's not my scene, hanging out with the hangers-on," i murmured.I didn't want to offend my buddy, but i just knew i'd get nervous as all get-out in that situation, and then the inevitable humiliation of a public accident wouldn't be far behind.
"This isn't the after-party for the hangers-on, this is the real deal, darling. Taylor's gonna be there."He grinned again, a bit more devilishly this time. "Are you sure you don't wanna go?"
To be continued... |
Thank you for those kind comments, my dear friends and fans!
i'm happy to be back, and glad you folks are enjoying this little tale. All of my stories have a bit of truth mixed in
with the fiction; that's what keeps it interesting for me. Anyhow, here's the next bit of this one:
Taylor and Me (Pt. 3)The meet-up
So, there i was with a drink in my hand and Joe by my side as i stood discreetly by the wall,waiting nervously for a chance to meet my idol. The music was loud, the crowd was noisy, and despite the air conditioning in the VIP green room working quite well, i was perspiring ever so slightly.
I could feel a little bead of sweat trickling down my spine beneath my top, down past the waistband of my jeans and into the crease of my bottom under my sheer black nylon panties.
I shivered with the sensation, and suddenly realized i really needed to pee. With that realization, i began to squirm in place just a little and i crossed my legs tightly together as an answering trickle of hot pee escaped from me to dampen the cotton crotch panel of those panties as well before i could stop it.
"Hey, are you OK?" Joe asked with concern in his voice.
"Ummmm, i should really be going; it's getting kind of late," i mumbled. I was blushing as my eyes turned down towards the floor at my feet, hoping that i hadn't made an obvious wet spot on the back of my jeans now.Just as i spoke those words, there was a bit of a commotion at the door.The star had finally arrived, and even if i had still wanted to, there was no way i was getting through the throng of people that quickly surrounded her.
She was amazingly poised and gracious though. Taylor had a kind word and a moment of her time for each and every one of them, but when she spotted Joe, she finished up quickly, got away from the crowd and headed straight over towards us.
"What a job you did tonight, Joe!" she all but shouted as she hugged him. "I mean, you always do a great job, but tonight was... magical!"
"Well, I have one of your biggest fans right here," he said, "and we couldn't deliver anything short of the very best, now could we?" He grinned as he gestured towards me, and then followed that with, "Taylor, I'd like you to meet my old friend Erica. I'll be back in a few, just gotta grab another drink; need anything, T?"
"I'll have my usual, Joe. Thanks!"
"I'll bring you another seltzer too," he said without bothering to ask. He knows me all too well.OMG... so now i'm all alone with Taylor Swift!
Taylor had changed out of her last stage outfit and was wearing a beautiful white A-line dress with a scooped neck and back. It looked casual and simple, and it probably cost more than i made in six months if not a whole year.
Her blonde hair was slightly damp, like she'd just taken a shower, and she had very light makeup on, just a bit of eye shadow, black mascara on her long eyelashes, her usual winged eyeliner and bright red lipstick complementing her flawless complexion.
"So you're Erica? Joe has talked about you so much, I almost feel like i know you already," she said with a sweet smile.Taylor bent down a little and shook my hand. When she did, i caught a hint of her perfume. It was a floral-fruity fragrance with a woody base, soft and feminine like everything else about her.I probably held her hand just a little longer than i should have, but she gave me another brilliant smile as she stood up to her full height once again.
Did i happen to mention how tall she is?
Even with her wearing her usual stylish pointy flats and me in these high heels, she was still much taller than me. "Joe even gave me some of your music to listen to. I have to be honest and say that it's a bit weird for me personally, but i can still tell you're a really good guitar player."
OMG, Taylor Swift just said i was 'really good'! I could feel my face getting warmer as i blushed uncontrollably.
"You're just saying that 'cause you're so nice!" i blurted out.
"No, really. I can tell that you're a good guitarist. Much better than I am, anyhow..."
She said that last part very quietly. There have been pics of her playing electric guitar posted online and a lot of the comments just weren't very kind at all, stuff like "What a waste of a good guitar," or "Too bad she can't really play that well."Taylor may be a big star, but she's also just a sensitive girl at heart and she gets hurt when people have negative things to say about her.
As for me, I would have blushed an even deeper shade of red if that was possible.
"Am not, and anyhow, you write fantastic songs and you have a great singing voice. I can't sing worth anything," i said, staring at my feet.
"OK, we're both pretty awesome," she said with a laugh as she pushed her golden hair back from her face with a slender hand. "So, how do you know Joe?"
"Umm... we... we went to school together," i stammered, barely able to get the words out. I couldn't lift my eyes from the floor.
Taylor reached out and touched my hand gently. "Please, don't be nervous." She smiled at me again. "I'm just a girl like you," she said softly.
Tears welled up in my eyes suddenly. "No, you're not! I could never be like you, not in a million years."I couldn't contain my emotions any longer, and even though i didn't want to make a scene, i buried my face in my hands as i began to cry in earnest."You're a big star, and i'm.... i'm nobody," i sobbed.
"You're not nobody, Erica, and from what Joe tells me, you're actually somebody pretty special." She wrapped her arms around me protectively and hustled me towards the door of the VIP lounge.In just a few moments, we were outside the club and then i was in the back of Taylor Swift's limo, heading for her hotel.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I told you Joe talked about you so much, I feel like I already know you," she said as we sat close together.
Even though there was a lot of room in the back seat, Taylor still had one arm draped around my shoulders and was keeping me close to her. I didn't mind at all.
I sniffled and then said, "Well, for what it's worth, i kind of feel like i know you too after listening to your songs so much." Yeah, me and every other girl between the ages of 12 and 28... i'm such an idiot sometimes.
"That's great," she said. "It will make it easier for us to be friends now!"
"Why would you ever want me as a friend?" i asked, too surprised to sob or sniffle now.
"Well, from what Joe tells me, we have something in common," Taylor said with a sly smile.
"And it's not just music..."
To be continued... |
Dearest friends and fans, i really appreciate the time you take to read, and those of you that have left such wonderful comments
i appreciate all the more. You encourage me to keep on writing, really. So, here's the next chapter of the story:
TAYLOR AND ME (Pt. 4)
The Challenge
When we arrived at the posh hotel where she was staying Taylor had me wait in the car with her as her bodyguards, who were following us in a second car, got out and surrounded her limo before opening the door. "Can't have those paparazzi taking pics of us together," she said with a giggle. "They might get the right idea!"
She held my hand tightly as she got out and then pulled me out after her, and without letting go of her firm grip on my hand, she headed into the hotel lobby.I had no choice but to follow her inside. At that late hour, the large lobby was almost deserted, just the night clerk and a couple of bellhops were around. "Boys, I won't be needing you anymore; you can take the rest of the night off," Taylor said to her bodyguards. "I don't think we need to worry about Erica from what Joe has told me about her," she said with a giggle.
"Alright, T," the large bald headed black man in the sunglasses replied.
"Thanks," the other one said with a grin as he looked at me. "We'll see you in the morning."They turned and headed back towards the cars outside while Taylor went straight for the elevators, still holding my hand tightly and pulling me behind her like i was some little doll she didn't want to lose. As she pushed the button, she said, "C'mon, I owe you a drink since we didn't wait for Joe to get back with ours at the club, and I'd really like to get to know you better. It's only fair, right?" She smiled that beautiful smile of hers once again. "I mean... since you know so much about me, being such a big fan and all!"The elevator doors slid open, and without waiting for a response she dragged me in after her and hit the button for her floor. When the doors closed, she put her arms around me, pulled me close and then... Taylor Swift kissed me! OMG...
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Her hotel room wasn't a room at all; it was actually a suite with a rather large living room and a separate bedroom area. Taylor gestured airily towards the couch and said, "Have a seat. Stay awhile," then she laughed, tossed her head back and mussed her hair with her hands. When she looked at me through her bangs, OMG... she really is beautiful, and it was the cutest pose, one i'd only ever seen in pictures. But this time she was really looking right back at me!
"Hold on a sec, I want to change into something more comfy," she said. "Don't you go anywhere, I'll be right back!"I could hear her from the living room as she kept up a steady stream of small talk while she undressed, and when she emerged she was wearing an outfit that matched mine: faded skinny jeans, a black tee and some mile high black leather stiletto heels. "Look, now we're twins!" she exclaimed with a huge grin on her pretty face.
"Ummm, about that drink..." i mumbled. After that kiss in the elevator, i was feeling a bit awkward and confused. I didn't know what to expect, but i certainly hadn't come here with any intention of cheating on my girlfriend! In fact, i was almost ready to bolt and run for the door before my nervousness caught up with me in the worst possible way.
"Coming right up," Taylor said brightly as she smiled at me again. "Joe told me you don't drink alcohol. Would you like a soda?"
"No, thanks... um, i really don't want to put you to any trouble..."
"Oh, it's no trouble at all; i'm kind of thirsty myself, so..."
"Just water please then, thanks," i answered. She skipped over to the mini bar and pulled out a couple of tall bottles of Voss water. "They're pretty cold, but would you like a glass and some ice?"
I shook my head no, so she walked back over to the couch where i was sitting, handed one bottle to me and kept one for herself.Twisting the cap off, i gulped mine down eagerly. It was actually very cold, almost giving me a brain freeze as i was drinking it, but i couldn't stop myself. Being nervous always makes me very thirsty. Maybe that's part of why i also tend to have these accidents...
"Wow, you must have really needed that," Taylor said with a grin as i finished it. "Would you like another?"
I was still quite thirsty and without thinking, i nodded. "Yes, please."
She went to the mini bar again and pulled out another bottle of water, opened it and then brought it back and handed it to me. This time she sat down right next to me, crossed those incredibly long legs and took a small sip from hers.
"You're probably wondering why you're here, aren't you?" Taylor said with a laugh as i nodded again, too tongue-tied to speak. Instead, i eagerly drank from the bottle of water she'd handed me. Never had any bottled water ever tasted as delicious as this did, i thought as she started to explain.
"Well, you know my songs, girlfriend; my relationships with boys never seem to work out. Joe suggested I should try something different, and that I should try it with you. Then you turned out to be so adorable; you're like a little doll..." She put her arm around my shoulder again, but it seemed a little less protective and a little more predatory this time. For some strange reason, i still didn't mind, though.
"Ummm..."
"Shhhsh," she said softly, putting a slim finger to my lips to silence any possible protest as she quickly turned, straddled me and started kissing me again. Taylor had one knee in between my legs, and she pressed it up against me there in just the right way now, not too hard and not too soft; it was pretty clear that she knew exactly what she was doing and how to take the lead with another girl... as for me, i was so nervous i practically peed myself fully right then and there; as it was, i couldn't help dampening my panties just a little again, but i wasn't sure if it was pee this time or a little squirt of some of what Norah liked to call my fresh love juice. Either way, i still couldn't bring myself to tell her to stop. I wondered if she could feel my wetness on her leg, but i was already too far gone to care now.
When she finally pulled away, she smiled at me again. "You like this, don't you, little girl?" she whispered softly into my ear before kissing the back of my neck.OMG... she had just pushed most of my major buttons right there, taking control and treating me this way. I was starting to melt, and my panties were definitely wetter now. As i began to feel even more flushed, Taylor slipped her hands up under my t-shirt and began to caress my small breasts through my bra. I could feel my nipples hardening under her deft fingers. I was really oozing my girl juice into my panties now and i closed my eyes and laid my head back on the couch, unable to resist any longer.
"Dammit, Joe," i thought to myself, "did you have to tell her everything?"Whether he had or he hadn't, the point was moot. Taylor Swift seemed to know my every weakness as if she had read my mind and i was totally defenseless against her soft, sweet onslaught of mad desire. Just before i reached the point where i would have done anything, anything at all she'd wanted me to in order to get her to take me over the edge, she suddenly stopped though.
"Wow, you really are a little doll, aren't you? I can pretty much do whatever I want to you right now..." Taylor mused, and all i could do was nod yes. Norah had trained me too well.So she went back to work on me with her soft warm hands and her soft wet lips, and i was getting softer, warmer, and wetter by the minute myself.
"OMG... what do you want with me?" i finally managed to gasp in between the deep sighs she was effortlessly eliciting from me now.
"I love wet games, and i love dolls," Taylor said. "From what Joe told me, i think i can satisfy both of those desires at the same time with you." When i opened my eyes, she smiled at me again. Gosh, she was so beautiful; how could i ever say no to Taylor Swift? Still, i had to at least try, for my gf Norah's sake."I.... i can't.... do this," i stuttered, looking down at my feet again. Norah's high heels, OMG. Norah... what would she think?
"Oh, now don't you worry your pretty little head... I totally understand, and I'm going to make this easy for you," Taylor said. "It won't have to be a choice on your part; instead, we're going to have a holding contest!"
"A holding contest?"
"Yes, sweetie! We're both going to drink lots of water and hold until one of us ends up wetting herself totally," Taylor said with a cute little giggle.
Now, i may be prone to accidents in stressful public situations, but thanks to my gf Norah's relentless training, i was a pro at holding my pee in private. As her sub, she made sure i didn't ever pee without obtaining her permission first, and she always punished any losses of control severely, so i'd been conditioned that way by her too. Although i had no way of knowing what Taylor might be bringing to the battle and these weren't exactly the same conditions i was used to, the odds just might be in my favour on this one. But still...
"Really? A holding contest?" i asked nervously. "Why would i want to humiliate myself in front of you? You're my idol..."
"OK, here's the deal... if I lose the contest, then you can have total control over me for 24 hours, or you can simply leave freely and never come back, if that's what you really want; I'll even throw in a series of recording sessions at a pro studio to show you there are no hard feelings. If you lose, though..." Taylor paused before continuing.
"If i lose, then what?"
"Then I get to keep on seeing you, and can make you my little plaything any time I want. You'll be my special little doll," she said, with a smile and a dreamy, almost wistful look in her eyes.
"Didn't Joe already tell you about my girlfriend?"
"Of course he did! That's part of what makes the whole thing so exciting!" she exclaimed."You two can stay together; I just want some of your amazing wonderfulness for myself too."
Knowing Taylor Swift was turning out to be a lot more interesting and much more complicated than i had ever suspected.
"Are you a bit wet already? Because I am, just a little. If you aren't, that gives you an advantage in the contest," she said with a shy smile.
There was no advantage for me; she'd seen to it that i was already quite wet down there even before we started, but i had a feeling we would both be much wetter before we were through.
To be continued... |
My dear friends and fans, i'm so happy that you are enjoying this...
and if you're anything like me, you know that the anticipation only makes it better,
even if it drives you crazy! Here's the next part of the story:
Taylor And Me (pt. 5)And So It Begins
"If Joe told you all about me, then you know i'll have to ask my girlfriend Norah for permission before we do this, right?"
"Of course. Why don't you call her right now?" Taylor said with a smile.Fishing my cell phone out of my clutch purse, i hit speed dial. It only rang twice before Norah answered.
"Hi, sweetie, how's it going? Are you having a good time?" she asked.
"You have no idea..." i replied, and then started to explain the situation i found myself in.Norah laughed when i finished, then told me to put Taylor on."She wants to speak to you," i said shyly, handing the phone to her. It was as if i had called my mommy, and then she asked to talk to the baby sitter... OMG. Although i couldn't hear what N. was saying to her, i saw Taylor smiling more and more as she murmured into the phone.
"Yes... OK... sure... no problem," she said, giggling every so often as she glanced over at me. Finally, she handed the phone back. "Your turn again," Taylor said brightly.
"Norah, you're not mad? You're OK with this?" i asked anxiously.
"Of course I am OK with it," she answered emphatically. "How could you ever pass up such a golden opportunity?" She and i both giggled at her pun."Do whatever Taylor tells you to as if it were me telling you, and try your best, sweetie; I'm good with the outcome, whether you win or lose. Good luck and see you in the morning!" she said cheerily.
Norah hung up, and i ended the call.
"Well, i guess we're really doing this, then," i said with another little giggle.
"Starting now," Taylor said with an answering giggle of her own. She went back to the mini bar and brought out another bottle of water for me, smiled again and said, "Mine's still pretty much full, so I'll just use that. If you don't mind..."
Norah had just told me to obey Taylor as if it was her giving the orders herself, and with N., any request was the same as a command, so... there was no way i could refuse. All i could do was nod my head and softly say, "Sure, no problem."
Now i finally realized why Taylor had been plying me with water so steadily beforehand; she was stacking the odds in her favour! i hadn't had a chance to use a restroom since i'd left home; not at the club and certainly not since i'd gotten here, and i'd just chugged down two bottles of ice cold water while she had barely taken a few sips from hers.That was on top of what i'd had while i was at the club. Was it two bottles or three? OMG... was Joe in on this too? I'll bet he knew all along that i was going to end up here, in this situation!
"OK, to start this off right, I think we'll need to have a wetness check," Taylor said with a cute, albeit devilish, smile. "Come on over here, little girl."
Well, that certainly broke my train of thought...When i was standing right in front of her, she unbuttoned her jeans and said, "You can go first."SInce i wasn't quite sure what to do, i just stood there. Taylor took hold of my my hand and guided it down into her pants. Now i could feel her moist warmth on my fingertips as i caressed her through her satin panties. Taylor closed her beautiful blue eyes for a moment; when she opened them again i couldn't help noticing that the knickers she was wearing matched the colour of them perfectly. She sighed and shuddered briefly beneath my hand before i withdrew it. True to her word, she was damp, but only from her own girl juice, not with any pee yet.
Then it was her turn.
She took the initiative again, undoing the top button of my tight skinny jeans, sliding the zipper down and working her slender hand down between my legs and into my crotch. Unlike me, she wasn't content to simply verify my arousal though; instead, she lingered and fanned the flames a bit more with a practiced ease that spoke volumes to a fellow follower of Sappho, and before i even knew what was happening i had squirted just a little again, wetting my knickers even more now."Ohhh, OMG..." i gasped, squeezing my thighs together around her hand.
Taylor giggled again. "Oopsies, sorry about that," she said with that same impish grin as i closed my eyes and writhed under her skilled fingers, but she couldn't really have been too sorry, because she didn't stop! When she finally pulled her hand out of my jeans, i opened my eyes again and i could see her fingertips glistening with my love juice before she popped them into her mouth and sucked on them. "OOOh, yummy," she said with a smile as she withdrew them, then she looked at me fetchingly from under her bangs again. "It's a shame I have to drink this water now."She picked up her bottle and had a long swallow, then put it down on the table. "OK, sweetie, your turn!"
She didn't have to tell me twice. Norah's command to obey Taylor as if it were her giving the orders was still fresh in my ears, and i was going to be a good little girl for her, because if word got back to Norah that i wasn't, i'd be in trouble for certain. Besides, i was getting curious; just how good at holding was my idol anyway?She had to have confidence in her ability since it was she who'd suggested the contest in the first place... and Joe had probably even told her about my stress wetting issues, too. Well, i was going to surprise her if i had anything to say about it, though.Picking up my bottle, i grinned and said, "Bottoms up!" and took a huge swallow myself, being careful to empty it just about the same amount as Taylor had hers. She already had enough of an advantage on me without me giving anything away now!She laughed and said, "I think this might take awhile; want to watch a movie while we're at it?"
"Sure," i replied, "That's fine with me."
"I know just the thing we need, then."Taylor went into the kitchenette area and i could hear her rummaging around in there, then i heard a beeping sound and in a moment she was back with a giant bowl of hot buttery popcorn.Setting it down on the table between our half-empty bottles of water she went over to the flat screen TV set, grabbed the remote that was sitting on top of it, and came back to sit on the couch next to me again.
She pressed a few buttons on the remote and the movie started. "I Tivo'd this earlier today; have you seen it already?" Taylor said, looking over at me and batting her eyelashes coyly. OMG... it was The Grudge 2! "Oh, i've seen it," i answered, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Would you mind watching it again? I'd really like to see it myself," Taylor said, smiling that lovely smile at me again, although she looked just a little sad.
"Ummm.... that's OK; i guess i can watch it again," i replied quietly. As if i actually had any choice...
"Cool! It'll be like a slumber party!!!" Taylor exclaimed, all bubbly and happy again now.
I didn't dare say no because of Norah's order, but all of a sudden i felt a little less confident in my holding capabilities.
Yes, i'd seen The Grudge 2 more than once before... and even though i knew it by heart i still nearly wet my panties in fear every time, too. Every time i watch it, i can't help picturing myself in my old school uniform, going into that haunted house and feeling the sheer terror of it.IDK why, but it just hits a nerve. It's a really scary movie, and one that really gets to me every time i watch it, but i just can't help myself; when it's on, i have to watch it for some strange reason. And then i'm terrified.Unconsciously, i snuggled up closer to Taylor, and she put her arm around me again.
To be continued... |
Thank you all for taking the time to read, and for the kind comments.
Here's the next part of the story; i really should have posted it last night, but it wasn't quite ready yet...
Taylor And Me (pt. 6)
Fright Night
We were on the couch in front of the TV, watching as the movie played on the large screen in the darkened room, eating hot buttery salted popcorn and drinking from our bottles of water.When we finished our first bottles, Taylor got up and got us two more from the mini bar. I watched her closely as she walked, looking for any signs of desperation, but it didn't seem as if she was feeling any urge at all. She moves like a cat, i thought to myself, all sleek feline grace, no wasted motion.She brought both bottles back, sat down right beside me and handed one over. Taylor crossed her legs again, but this time her other hand moved towards her crotch and settled in between them. OMG, was she was holding herself? It was hard to be sure in the dark, and in any case i couldn't tear my eyes away from the screen.
The Grudge 2 had caught me again; i couldn't look away no matter how badly i wanted to and i'd already been holding myself for some time now, putting pressure on my wee hole through my tight jeans. It wasn't helping much; between my need and my film-induced fear, i was leaking pretty steadily by now. The TV screen in Taylor's suite was so huge, it almost felt like we were in a movie theatre; i was sitting next to my idol, so close that i could feel her sharp intake of breath every time a scary part happened, feel her body tense up in unison with mine... before long we started holding hands, using the opposite hand to alternately lift our water bottles and drink, then jamming them back down between our tightly crossed legs. Finally Taylor whispered, "OMG, this is really scary!"
"It really is," i replied, and nodded.
"Do you want me to stop the movie, honey?" she asked me, with what appeared to be real concern in her voice.
OMG, Taylor Swift was worried about me, and even with the contest on the line, she wasn't going to force me to watch if i couldn't take it.
Or was she just worried about herself?Well, i'd been here before with this movie, so at least i knew what was ahead. She didn't."No, it's OK... the best parts are still to come,' i answered with a little smile of my own.
So, we kept on watching, and drinking, and holding hands. Unbelievable, but yes, i was actually hanging out with Taylor Swift! Not just hanging out, but sitting right beside her, watching a movie and holding her hand... OMG!The feeling of being with her, and doing this together, it was indescribably amazing. Like a dream come true, really... You see, i love and adore Norah more than anything, and i'd been desperate in front of her more times than i could count, but her being a domme, she'd never shared that experience with me. Even though we're pretty close in age, it's almost more like a mother/daughter relationship in a lot of ways.
Norah is always in control, and that's how i like it, just as much as she prefers it that way. But i still couldn't help wondering now and again what it would be like to see her like this, the way she always got to see me, even though i knew it would never happen, and that i probably didn't even really want it to. Now, with Taylor, the two of us were having a common experience; it was like we were sisters or besties and either one of us might lose it totally at any time, but it would be OK.
By now, we were both squirming and wriggling, and i was getting pretty damp from the amount of pee that had already leaked out of me despite my best efforts to hold everything in, not to mention my arousal just from sitting next to this amazingly gorgeous girl.
As for Taylor, she was still dry on the outside, but her occasional gasps and shudders led me to believe she was probably just as wet as i was underneath those tight sexy jeans of hers.
As i looked over at her, i found it incredibly arousing to watch her squirm and writhe in desperation, and to know that she was feeling what i was, feeling that crazy thrill that only comes when you've been holding desperately for what seems like forever and can keep yourself on the verge of letting go but not actually doing it for as long as possible before... well, you know. <blush>
As i was thinking those thoughts, Taylor picked up her bottle of water and drained it dry.
Then she glanced over at me expectantly, and without any hesitation, i did the same with mine.As i finished the last of it, i felt a sudden heavy twinge of desperation, and i jammed my hand down tighter in between my thighs, and double crossed my legs.
Taylor couldn't help but notice it, and i heard her giggle softly.
She suddenly leaned over and started kissing the back of my neck again. N. must have told her that was one of my special spots, or was she just intuiting this naturally?
Either way, i was squirting uncontrollably again, wetting my knickers even more now.As if to confirm that her kisses were having the desired effect, she put her hand down into my still unzipped jeans, and giggled softly again as she felt how wet i was down there."Oh, sweetie... "
To be continued...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
Thanks for the views and the comments, my friends and fans.
Here's the next part of the story for you, and thanks to Pain for his contribution to this chapter!
Taylor and Me (pt. 7)
A Living Doll
My bladder was letting me down that night, because i never normally needed to go so soon. It didn't help that i was dreading the disgrace of losing, not to mention the other much more bizarre consequences.I was using all my strength to hold back my pee, praying that Taylor was worse off than she appeared to be.
I had never seen my bladder so swollen before; it was bulging out like crazy and the urge to release the massive amount of urine it contained was almost irresistible now. It was getting worse because my jeans were so tight that even with the zipper fully undone, it was still under pressure and could not swell up fully.Still, there was no place for excuses now. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I absolutely had to win this, but i was getting really desperate; i was keeping my legs knotted most of the time, and i was still struggling to keep control.Taylor too had her legs tightly crossed. By now she was sitting with the zip of her own jeans undone to ease the pressure on her bursting bladder.
I was having to clench my urethra shut so hard I could barely stop myself from groaning with the effort, and I kept shivering and bumping my knees together as surges of desperation took me to the brink of letting go in my jeans. The worst thing was, we were just about at the part where one of the characters is alone in a locker room. She's taken a shower, and she's only wearing a towel when the creepy dead girl appears from out of a corner, and the other girl is so scared she pees herself. The first time i saw the movie, i actually wet myself at the same time, i really did. Now i wondered how Taylor would react. Would she do the same?
Before i could find out, she paused the movie and got up to get us two more bottles of water, but as she walked over towards the mini bar, she suddenly stopped, doubled over and gasped softly. Her long legs clamped together at the knees as she bent down a bit, one slim hand over her chest and the other down between her slender thighs. No doubt about what had happened this time; she had leaked at least, and maybe even let out a nice little squirt of her own.
"T., are you okay?" i asked her.
"I'm... I'm okay," she replied haltingly. Taylor took a deep breath, then said, "OMG, i really thought i was going to lose it totally right there!"
"Yeah, standing up fast when i'm really desp always has that effect on me too," i giggled.
"Well, then, fair's fair... you can get the next round!" she said, laughing.When she came back with the water bottles she sat down next to me again, but instead of starting the movie up again, she said, "Wetness check!" I hadn't bothered to fully do up my zipper after the last time, so it was an easy enough thing for her to work her hand down inside my pants and into my knickers, and i did the same to her as well this time, the both of us kneeling on the couch now. And while we were at it, she started kissing me again. Her lips were so soft, and her kisses so sweet and tender... and all the while, her fingers were working their delicate magic on me down there, her other hand now up under my tee again inside my bra, caressing my breast and squeezing my nipple as it erected beneath her touch.
"Ohhhhh," i gasped. My need was getting so urgent that I was dying to grab my crotch so i did, even though Taylor still had her hand down inside my panties. Even with her hand between mine and my girl parts, i could feel how wet i was now and i pressed down hard, and she responded by forcing two long fingers into me a bit as i gasped again with pleasure.The pressure in my bladder was becoming uncontrollable and i wasn’t sure if I could win this holding contest any more. It was an unfair match anyway; i had had way too much water beforehand and i didn’t even get to relieve myself. All i could do now was hope that my bladder could stretch enough to hold all that liquid. By now, Taylor had me completely aroused, and i was totally helpless.Suddenly, i squirted again, and this time she could feel it as it happened.
"Oh, Erica...."
"I'm... i'm sorry..." i mumbled, embarrassed.I almost expected her to pull her hand away, but Taylor only held me tighter as she felt my warm wetness, and then she sighed softly.
"Please, don't be," she whispered. "I like it... when that happens... you don't think it's weird, do you?"Her eyes were downcast now, and even though the room was dark, i could feel the heat of her blushing cheeks next to mine, and i knew just what she was feeling at that moment.
All of a sudden, the words started to tumble out of me, spilling out like the urine i was desperately holding inside was trying to even now.
"No, i don't think you're weird, i love you so much! OMG, i used to think i was weird, because of my squirting when i was turned on enough, i thought i was just peeing myself every time, and it got so the two sensations almost became the same thing... i got turned on by having to pee, and holding it until i couldn't any more, and then i'd wet myself and it felt so great, and when i got super aroused, i'd squirt every time and thought i was wetting myself, but i was actually having an orgasm and didn't know it, all i knew was it felt awesome, but then i'd be ashamed because i was such a weirdo!"
"I told you I was just a girl like you, didn't I?" She looked into my eyes, smiled her beautiful smile once more, and hugged me tighter. OMG, YES! Taylor Swift was just a girl, she was just a girl like me after all, and more like me than i could ever have hoped for!
"Do you know what a 'Betsy Wetsy' is?" she asked me.
"Nope, sorry," i said in reply.
"Well, it's an old doll that was around in the 1980s. You'd give her a drink, and then she'd wet..."Taylor got that far away look in her eyes again."My grandmother gave me one when I was little, and i became obsessed... I guess that's where this all started."
"With a doll?"
"Yes, because I couldn't put that doll down. I loved making her drink and then seeing her wet over and over again. Then when i got a little older, I started experimenting with my friends."
"Experimenting? How?"
"Well, whenever we'd have a playdate or a slumber party, I always made sure that we had plenty of drinks available and that they'd drink as much as possible while we were playing a game that we couldn't stop easily. I started to really enjoy the signs of desperation: the squirms, the crossed legs, the lip biting, the hair twirling... and of course the best part was when one of them would actually have an 'accident' right in front of me..."Taylor sighed deeply. "It only happened a few times, but OMG, I would get so excited... well, actually turned on, I guess. Sometimes I would run to the bathroom myself afterwards and pee through my own panties, and then rub myself through them until I... "
It looked to me like she was getting turned on just thinking about it, actually. I know i certainly was!
"I want you to be my real live Betsy Wetsy, Erica..."
i shuddered as i released a quick squirt into my knickers again. As for my jeans, they were just about soaked through, between my pee and my girl juice. "OMG... i... i..." I was a complete wreck now, shuddering uncontrollably, leaking, squirting, and oh so ready for Taylor Swift to ravish me. But instead...
"OMG, Erica, are you OK?" Taylor asked. "If you want to stop, it's alright with me, or if you need to pee, that's OK too, sweetie."This time, there was no doubt in my mind that she meant it. There was no mistaking the real concern in her voice."Don't worry about the contest any more, honey; i'm going to get you that recording session anyway. I was always going to do that for you one way or another, even if Joe hadn't made me promise to."
Taylor Swift was a peach of a girl, the sweetest one i'd ever known (besides Norah, of course). But there was no way i was going to be able to get up from the couch now without losing it completely; there was no doubt in my mind about that either.
To be continued....-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
Dear friends and fans, thanks for taking the time to read and comment on the story.
Here's the next bit for you to enjoy:
TAYLOR AND ME (pt. 8)Waterfall
My head was spinning, between the desperate state i was in and the person i was with; Taylor Swift, omg... and she was kissing me and had her hand down between my legs, and i was just about ready to lose it in more ways than one. And that was exactly what she wanted. I didn't need to worry about feeing humiliation and shame; it was just a game we were playing together, two little girls together... i smiled at the thought, and the tension drained away from my body. Despite my initial reluctance, i realized that fate had brought me here, and that everything in my life before now had been leading up to this moment. I no longer had any desire to win the contest, or to leave her. As long as i could still be with Norah, i would be happy to be Taylor Swift's little wetting doll too.
Taylor would pamper me, she would dress me up in the same clothes that she wore, she would make me drink copious amounts of water to fill me up, and then she would watch as i peed my knickers for her, emptying myself over and over again. Just like my relationship with Norah, it was inevitable, it was perfect and it was meant to be.
The only thing different was that Taylor would be sharing my desperation, and would sometimes wet herself right alongside me.And so, i stood up, knowing full well what would happen.
"I'm yours, T.," i said softly.
"Oh, Erica..." she sighed as she leaned in towards me.
As Taylor kissed me deeply and put her hand down between my legs again, i finally lost control... or rather, i relinquished it, just as i had to my sweet Norah a few years previously. I began to wet myself, the hot pee gushing out from my tortured wee hole as i felt the almost sexual release, and it went on for what seemed like forever, flowing past her fingers, soaking through my panties, through the crotch of my tight skinny jeans and running down my legs, collecting in my borrowed high heels before it overflowed them and pooled there on the floor between my feet.I don't think i'd ever been quite so full in my entire life; at least that's how it seemed, because i just kept on peeing and peeing and peeing some more.It felt amazing, i can't deny it, and the fact that Taylor was still kissing me and pressing her hand up against me as i continued to let out a strong stream of urine into my black nylon panties made it even better, relief and arousal mixed inextricably now as i continued to squirt hot pee into my panties, and then it happened: the inevitable melding of those twin sensations into one shattering orgasm, making me weak at the knees.
"OHHHMMMMMMghhhh," was all i could manage as my legs buckled under me and she pushed hard against both sets of my lips; as above, so below. The pressure of her fingers against my hot urethra made the pee flow harder in the same way that partially stopping up a gushing garden hose created a more intense stream, and the feeling was pure ecstasy now.
No drugs or alcohol for me; no, this was my high, losing myself in this total loss of control to another, feeling this, and needing this, and never wanting the feeling to end.
Finally, the stream of hot urine flowing from my overburdened bladder began to ease up, and as it did Taylor eased the pressure on my lips accordingly.She was playing me like a musical instrument, and her unerring sense of just what i needed at every instant was sheer perfection. She broke our long held kiss, and a soft sigh escaped her lips in tandem with one from mine.
"OMG, T., that was totes amazeballs," i said quietly, trying to recover a bit of composure after being shaken to the very core of my being. The only other girl that had ever been able to do this to me was Norah, but Taylor Swift was almost her equal, i had to admit.
She looked at me with a quizzical smile now."Totes amazeballs?" she giggled.
"Yeah, as in absolutely amazing!" i exclaimed.
"Why thank you, sweetie- " Taylor was about to say something else when i looked down at the floor and interrupted her.
"OMG, I'm so sorry, the carpet's a mess! Is that going to be a problem for you with the hotel staff?"
"Don't worry about it, honey; I actually bought this suite awhile ago just to have whenever I'm in town. This can be our special place now-"
She'd hardly gotten those words out before i jumped up into her arms and hugged her so tightly then, and she let out a huge gasp.Backing down, i mumbled, "I'm sorry..." again.Taylor laughed, and said, "No, it's OK that you hugged me, it's just that... ummm..."
OMG, in the afterglow of my orgasmic release i had forgotten that she was just about ready to lose it herself!
She was squirming with her own desperate arousal now, and it was truly adorable to witness. No wonder Norah loved seeing me like that!
"Well, what are you waiting for?" i said with a smile as i pulled her close.As i took the lead for the very first time in my life and kissed Ms. Swift, i could feel her shudder and then she began to wet herself uncontrollably. I pressed my hand up between her long legs to return the favour as her hot pee spurted out of her and streamed around my fingers and she closed her pretty blue eyes and moaned in ecstatic surrender. "Ohhhhh, Erica.... Erica..."
My thoughts turned to my gf Norah for just a moment... if only she could be here to see this, what would she think and what would she do?I could only begin to imagine what it would be like with all three of us together.Soon enough, though, i wouldn't have to imagine it. I knew it was only a matter of time now.
<The End.... or is it just the beginning?>
Thanks for reading this, thanks to all of you who've taken the time to leave comments, and especially thanks to orango for his ceaseless support and encouragement, and to Pain for prompting me to write this, and for his contribution to the previous chapter! |
So since my Agents of Shield one did okay I decided to do another existing property with a setting not many do and that's Jurassic World or basically the Jurassic Park universe in general. Also apologies for any inconsistencies with the film as I haven't seen it in awhile. Enjoy.
Plot: While trying to find her nephews with Owen on the island, Claire has to pee. Far away from the park centre with no toilet in sight she's going to have to go by other means while trying to avoid a loose Indominus Rex.
It had been what felt like hours since Claire began her trek through the island with Owen Grady being covered in grime and muck amongst other things while looking for her nephews Zach and Gray. Needless to say the feelings she felt were of guilt and frustration. She was no mom not even a sitter. Everytime someone asked her why she didn't want kids she responded with it was because of her job and they wouldn't want a mom who wasn't there for them. She was sparing them the heartbreak even if it pained her to deny that and any attempt she could have made to be good with kids had been blown now that she lost Zach and Gray. Had she known something like this was going to happen she would have never agreed to this with her sister. Suddenly the feeling of walking caught up to Claire as well as something else that had been building for awhile now. She had to pee.
"Damn it." Claire whispered realising her need
"Something wrong?" Owen asked noticing Claire having stopped and bended over holding her knees noticing them bang together
"Look can we just stop for a minute?" Claire asked
"Stop? Your kids are in danger we gotta keep going" Owen said
"Technically they aren't my kids" Claire said correcting him
"Look whatever come on. You don't want to be dino chow do you?" Owen asked slightly annoyed
"No but go scout up ahead see if you can find any clues I'll join you in a few minutes. Just please Mr. Grady" Claire asked forcing a smile trying to hide her need
"Fine. But the minute you hear even the slightest stomp hide and call me." Owen said walking further ahead up the area.
Looking to see if he was out of earshot Claire scampered to a nearby bush. They were far away from the park centre with no toilet in sight. She was going to have to go here and she wasn't going to let Owen know that. Annoyed at what she had been reduced to Claire pulled down her pants and panties and squatted as she sighed in relief her stream splattering through the bush and onto the ground. Noticing that it had kept going she realised her need was more than she thought. She had drank a lot earlier in order to keep herself hydrated to prepare herself for the long day.
Meanwhile a familiar sound made itself known as the Indominus Rex had snuck up on Claire's location probably having caught her scent of pee. Hearing this Claire had to resist screaming as she tried to make herself hurry up.
"Oh crap. Come on hurry up." Claire whispered.
Hearing it come closer Claire had to stop her pee from flowing as she squeezed her leg muscles together and stood up pulling her pants and panties up as she ran off down route Owen went as she had to resist crossing her legs and hopped a few times in desperation. Stopping she suddenly felt something and heard a noise. She was wetting herself. Her need was becoming more harder to keep in and if she was going to get out of this without a big accident she was going to have to finish now whether the Indominus Rex was there or not. Frantically looking around to see if it was there she dashed to another nearby bush and yanked down her pants and panties and again squatted and moaned in relief as the rest of her pee began gushing out. God that felt good.
Suddenly the Indominus Rex appeared in front of her as she screamed her radio falling out of her and picking up her scream. Meanwhile not to far away Owen being vigilant as ever stopped and placed his hand on what felt like human tracks signifying they had been there.
"Well Claire hope you're rested" Owen said. His radio suddenly screamed so loud it fell from his hand as he picked it up
"Claire?" Owen asked
Her shout was enough to tell him she was in trouble as he ran off back the other way to where he had left her. Claire resisted crying as she looked up in fear and awe at the indominus so close to her. Now all her hard work was coming back to bite her in the ass literally she was going to die with her pants down.
"Goodbye Zach, Gray" Claire whispered feeling remorse at having failed her nephews.
Suddenly she heard a raptor call as she and the Indominus looked to find the source as a bang was heard along with another raptor call as Owen had arrived making the calls as the Indominus avoided the shots and quickly hid itself and ran off as Owen fired into open air and stopped realising it had escaped.
"Damn" Owen said looking over at Claire who still had her pants and panties around her ankles as she blushed in embarrassment
"You know if you had to pee you could have just said so" Owen said
"While I am grateful for you saving me would you please move further away" Claire asked
"Why pee shy?" Owen asked
"Yes but pee shy or not Mr. Grady I'd prefer my co-workers not to see my like this whether its out here or on a toilet" Claire stated
"Right. Just be glad I didn't go with my original plan to challenge it to a dance off in order to distract it away from here." Owen said humorously
Claire smiled as he walked off to another part from the area away from her. Finally after a few more minutes she finished peeing and wiped herself with a leaf another thing she didn't like with Owen having warned her to make sure whatever she used wasn't poisonous as she stood up pulling her pants and panties up and walked off to where Owen was.
"So any clues as to where my nephews may or may not be?" Claire asked
"Yep. Come on." Owen said
THE END. Sorry if it isn't long or that good. I encourage other people to try their hand at this setting. Hope it was okay. |
Here is a new story that I've decided to write with my co-author Justice, he helped me out by by giving me several ideas to work with. Along with editing this for me he was a great help and I couldn't have done this without him.
Kingdom of Nazara
Meliora Asrai, Princess of Nazara, was taken in by Elthin Veldhar. ...Well, she wouldn't say "taken in" …In fact, sometimes she wondered if "love" was a suitable explanation for the feelings she had. Sure, she loved Elthin, but Meliora always thought she was more "interested" with him than anything else. She loves secrets and intrigue above all else, and she often kept a conversation going just to see if she could find more juicy details.
Well, that’s not really all she was into. If there was anything she was into more than her boyfriend Elthin, it was the dark arts, or black magic, as some would call it. Magic that could give powerful abilities to people while also giving them horrible curses, it was known to fail if they weren’t followed exactly, sometimes even an entirely unintended effect. These thoughts only proved to entice the girl, and her noble elegance transferred over to the dark arts in a rather comical way.
While Meliora was a fan of studying the dark arts, she also liked to study various other spells such as those of the four elements, those of fire, wind, water, and earth. She was one of those types of people who loved to study and seek out knowledge, Meliora wished to know everything. Back home in her room she had many, many books at her beck and call along with piles of parchment lined with many notes she always took down. As she was normally one to review what she had learned she'd often talk to her father (the king) or her tutors. They'd have heated debates over history, science, magic, etc. and on this early morning she had met up with Elthin haven given him a small roll of parchment and some ingredients in a small silk bag.
"When you complete what is written on this parchment you will get what you seek. But I must warn you to follow my instructions to the letter. The slightest mistake can cause something horrible to happen" Meliora warned Elthin before he left to return to his own kingdom.
"I promise and once I have what I desire we shall get married and untie our two kingdoms" Elthin replied. He gave her a long kiss on the lips before leaving. As Meliora watched Elthin leave she couldn’t help but worry about him, she knew how reckless he could often get. She went through her options quickly in her head. She'd go with him to see for herself if Elthin had followed through correctly.
"Fetch me my horse and traveler’s bags, I will be heading to Glacialis" Meliora told her lady in waiting.
Several Hours Later At The Kingdom of Glacialis
A clear spring sky bathed the marble black of the kingdom of Glacialis, glimmering on a coat of late frost. Silver and black banners snapped in the cold wind from atop the many towers around the high walls, while sentries patrolled back and forth in blackened scale and golden helms. The fortress-city reverberated to the tramp of booted feet and the scrape of metal as regiments practiced drills in the open squares. The cries of their lieutenants echoed from the stone walls and mingled with the crackle of sacrificial pyres and screams of howling prisoners.
Fearsome was the citadel, for it had been built by Stiria Iselin, who had been the Glacialis. Very first ruler along with the aid of Reva Malkusha and was so wrought that no approach was left undefended. Eighty high towers and many miles of thick walls surrounded the city, yet only three gates controlled access in and out, each surrounded by bastions filled with war machines and troops.
Racing towards the very city on a horse with a jet black mane sat the young Elthin Veldhar. He wore armour of ithilmar that looked like the color of midnight. Elthin stands just a few inches less than six feet, his hair is white with black highlights on the right, left, and top part of his hair. Elthin's pupils are slit like a cat's, and his eyes are a beautiful shade of blue which often are said to mirror that of any ocean. His eyelashes are quite short, while his thin eyebrows are delicately curved. Strapped to his side in a sheath of pure white crystal was Amreir, the winter-blade that had been given to the young prince on his sixteenth birthday by his father. However, that wasn't the only weapon the young prince had. Hand wrapped up in a magical silk cloth was the spear of ice, Nagrain, its tip was a crystal said to be stronger than any metal.
Elthin, who had been taught in the art of sword-play, was quite gifted with using a sword, although normally he preferred to use a spear. There was just something that Elthin liked when using a spear in combat. Maybe it was the spear’s longer reach and flexibility, or it could have been the reckless way he used it in combat, spinning it around in such a crazy fashion that Elthin didn't care whether he struck friend or foe alike, just as long as they ended up either dead or impaled on its shaft, it filled Elthin with a wonderful feeling of pure ecstasy.
Elthin slowly brought his horse down the dirt path towards the city in the distance. All around him was freshly fallen snow that covered the ground like a soft blanket. As he neared the city, his left hand padded the small bag on his side. Inside was the very last item he had needed to complete. His spell was one that would finally allow him to take what he had desired ever since he had come of age, that being the very crown of the kingdom itself the one currently worn by his father.
A small smirk formed on his face.
"In only a few short moments I will arrive, and with this item I will finally have what I truly desire" Elthin laughed aloud.
What Elthin wished for was to surpass the limits of his own strength. While he was already strong for someone his age, he wanted to be far stronger. But instead of wanting to work out day in and day out or training which would take weeks or even months, Elthin decided on the easier way and had asked his girlfriend Meliora for help.
Five minutes later, he passed through the eastern entrance into the city and headed towards the royal stables. Once there he dismounted, handing his horse's reins to one of the workers tending to the stables and then gathered his belongs, heading towards the palace itself. Walking up the vast black stairs he entered into the palace and headed right for his private chambers where he wished not to be disturbed.
Once inside he quickly closed and bolted the door behind him and placed his belongs on the floor, taking the contents which were stowed in small bag and opening them. He laid the ingredients out on the small purple cloth that they had been gathered in before reaching for the roll of parchment. Meliora had given it to him to make sure he completed the process correctly, and despite much of his headstrong attitude, he slowly read over what was listed several times. He then cursed himself for being a fool as he had forgotten to grab a bowl as he needed to mix some of the ingredients together. After solving that problem, he took the basil, caraway, bay leaves, anise, garlic cloves and coriander taking and placing them into the bowl, starting to mix them together and being sure to follow the directions on the parchment to the letter.
Yet, it was at this time that something suddenly went wrong. As Elthin mixed the ingredients together, a small, purplish smoke began to form in the bowl, somewhat pooling in it more than rising. Looking down he took notice of this and believed that this smoke was just the results of his work. However, the smoke started to grow more in size. Truth be told, Elthin had made a risky mistake. He had used far too much basil. When he was supposed to use only three pieces, Elthin had used twelve. It was a rather bad mistake which any normal mage wouldn't make but in Elthin's haste he had messed up.
The smoke slowly rose out of the bowl and began to travel up the young man's arm. Elthin cried out in surprise and dropped the bowl onto the ground, backing away. He started swinging his arm around to try and rid it of the smoke, but the smoke then doubled in size and seemed to take on a life of its own. It quickly grew and grew until it completely covered his entire body.
"What the hell! Get off me!" Elthin yelled, continuing his failing attempt of shaking off the smoke.
His voice was soon lost as the purple cloud of smoke did its own sort of magic. Several moments passed and the smoke began to clear away, only to reveal something rather strange. Where only mere moments before a young man in armor was standing, there was now a young girl standing there completely naked.
She was 5'2 and had short, white, shoulder length hair with black highlights on the right, left, and top of her hair. She had small yet lovely a-cup breasts, beautiful royal blue eyes, a cute button nose, a small slim waist, and a small patch of white pubic hair. Rubbing her eyes with her fingers she soon cleared and opened them. It was then that she spotted her reflection in the mirror on the right side of the room near the armor stand. Her eyes widened in complete shock as she took in her reflection.
"W-what the hell?" Elthin yelled.
The voice that escaped his lips wasn't his usual harsh male voice. Instead, it was a small, cute, and soft feminine voice. She took a small step forward towards the mirror when she felt a very weird sensation come over her. Elthin felt a sharp pain in her stomach which made her grab her side in pain only to then fall to her knees. It was when she hit her knees on the ground a small noise could be heard coming from between the cute girl's legs. Looking down in shock she saw a small transparent yellow stream falling between her legs onto the blue carpeted floor, creating a small yet growing dark puddle underneath her cute form.
"E-eeewwww, gross, just gross" Elthin whispered to herself at the ever growing puddle between her legs. Already her face burned a deep red as the steady stream of pee fell from her pee-hole, a hissing sound was heard. Elthin covered her eyes in disgust and sheer embarrassment.
"W-hat's h-h-happening to me?" Elthin cried.
For the first time in his/her life, Elthin felt tears fill her eyes and slowly fall down her cheeks. She then began to cry as her steady stream slowly came to a stop the young girl sat in a puddle. Of pee that was her own making Elthin sat there for a few moments crying softly when the she heard a faint chime come from outside her door.
"Oh no…" Elthin said to herself.
She heard the chime again and this time a voice could be heard coming from behind the door. "Elthin it's me, can I come in? I want to see if the spell worked!" the voice asked.
Elthin began to panic, the voice belonged to Meliora! But what was she doing here so soon? Elthin had thought Meliora would have been waiting at home, yet here she was having arrived about an hour after he himself had returned when he had still been a boy. Elthin didn't know what to do she wiped the tears from her eyes and got up.
"Elthin are you in there? Is something wrong? Why won't you answer me?" Meliora demanded, a hint of concern in her voice.
"Umm... just a moment!" Elthin called out.
When Meliora heard the female voice come from behind the door to Elthin's chambers, she suddenly grew very angry and banged on the door.
"Elthin, what the hell is going on? Why is there a female in your room when I'm the only one who should be allowed inside?" Meliora yelled. She gripped the door handle and tried to jerk it open only to find out it was locked from the inside.
Elthin didn't know what to do, she couldn't let Meliora see her like this, let alone see the puddle of pee on the floor that she had just made moments ago. She looked around trying to find some place where she could hide out from Meliora's wrath, she spotted the dark black curtains near the window closest to the king-sized bed. She started towards it only to stop when she heard the door open.
Meliora, who had tried several time to open the door, soon grew tired of not being able to enter the room reached into her skirt's pocket and took out a small silver key which she then put into the lock of the door and unlocked it, turning the handle to the left and pushing the door open with a powerful push.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the flash of a second Meliora entered into the room. She had long black hair with small curls, she had a small bust and decent stature. She was dressed in a short black traveler’s gown with a small black blouse that hugged her bosom and a short black skirt that reached to about mid-thigh and showed off her well-toned thighs. Around her neck was a midnight colored cloak made out of the finest silk the kingdom had to offer, and currently it fluttered at the sudden movement she had made.
When Meliora caught sight of the naked girl in Elthin's room her eyes widened in surprise. "W-who are you?" Meliora demanded to know as her eyes took in all the girl's features. Her eyes lingered on Elthin's small breasts and small patch of white pubic hair for several moments before she caught the faint smell of something. She sniffed it once, twice, and three times before it dawned on her what the smell was.
"Why, does it smell like pee in here… and once more, who are you? Explain yourself! Where is Elthin?" Meliora shouted at the girl.
Elthin didn't know what to say. She had to think quickly, and something came to mind. She quickly spoke out what she had just thought of, hoping it would work.
"I… I'm E-Elicia. Veldhar Elthin's sister" Elicia quickly replied.
Meliora took this in then replied back. "I didn't know Elthin had a sister, but why are you naked?" Meliora asked.
Elicia thought for a few moments for a suitable answer.
"Umm... I.. I peed in the one I was wearing and took it off and hid it so, no one would find it. I tried to find something new to wear but there was nothing in here my size" Elicia spoke in return in a rather small voice.
For some odd reason Meliora felt a faint wave of excitement race through her. It was something she couldn't yet explain, but as she looked at Elicia standing there naked, she decided to help the girl out.
"Oh, you poor girl, I have something you can wear" Meliora says. She takes off her black traveler's cloak from around her neck and walks over to Elicia whom she helps to her feet, placing the cloak around her shoulders and tying it up around her neck. Taking Elicia's small hand in her own she led the girl out of Elthin's chambers. They walked along for a short while, passing by several more rooms and up two more flights of stairs until they reached a large, brown, wooden door.
Letting go of her hand she pushed open the door and walked inside the large room with Elicia trailing behind her inside the room. The room contained a large queen-sized bed covered in pure white silk sheets, a small weapon stand was at the right side of the room where a long staff of bone and iron lay upon it. A small white marble writing desk lined the left side of the room, and upon the desk were various spell books along with several rolls of parchment and several writing pens with ink wells. Meliora walked towards the large walk-in closet, and once inside she started looking around for a dress that Elicia could wear.
Elicia just stood there nervously, she had no idea what was going on. It seemed that Meliora believed her story that she was Elthin's sister, but Elicia's mind wasn't on what had happened in his own room or about having to wear a dress for the first time in her life. What she wanted to know is just why this happened to her. What had she done to cause this very curse to happen to her in the first place?
"Is there any way I can change back into my normal self? Will this wear off in a few more minutes or hours? How am I supposed to act like a girl and not get found out?" Elicia thought.
Several moments later Meliora returned into the room holding a dress for Elicia to wear. Meliora first handed Elicia a silk short night dress that would finish just below her hips, Along with matching panties that were trimmed with a ruffled lace. Above that Meliora also handed Elicia a small white silk blouse and matching skirt (these were made from the finest material that the kingdom had to offer). Elicia looked at the clothes which were handed to her, a small blush forming on her cheeks.
Meliora slowly pushed Elicia over towards the far corner of the room where a large, red, silk square cover hung down from the ceiling. This was to allow Elicia to dress in privacy. When Elicia walked behind it she set the clothes down on a small sitting chair. Again she looked at the clothes which had been handed to her. Not really knowing how to put on a pair of girl's clothes Elicia thought of asking for help in that matter, but was way too embarrassed to even think about asking such a question. So, after a few failed attempts, Elicia was finally able to put on the silk short night dress and matching panties, the very clothes she had been given.
Elicia couldn't help but look at herself in the mirror that lined the wall. If she were asked, she would have said that she looked rather cute. She took this all in and sighed to herself before slowly leaving behind the small dressing wall and walking over to where Meliora was standing. Elicia wasn’t really sure on what to say, whether it should be “thank you” or even asking to borrow some more clothes. Seeing as what she was now wearing was the only set of clothes she currently had on her. It was Meliora that finally broke the silence.
"Why, don't you tell me a little bit about yourself?" Meliora asked as she took a seat upon the bed and slowly crossed her legs.
"Umm… There really isn't much to say…" Elicia spoke softly. She looked around and wasn't really sure on where she could sit, but soon she saw the desk chair and then walked over to it and sat down upon it, taking up a position like any sort of man would when sitting in a chair. Her legs were parted slightly which gave Meliora a small yet perfect view up her short dress, letting the girl see her upper thighs and lace panties.
While Meliora clearly enjoyed the view it was something else that had caught her eye that had been the way Elicia had walked over towards the chair, along with how she had sat down. It wasn't how any normal girl would walk and then sit down. Elicia had clearly walked just like Elthin always did and sat as Elthin always sat, which, as rude as it was to say, was rather unique, even for a guy.
As Meliora took this all in she thought about asking Elicia what was up about this.
To Be Continued |
This is a Knuckles story I decided to type out and put up, hope you enjoy.
Knuckles, Eggman, Sonic, Tails, Amy and Cream belong to Sega.
"AARRGH!" Knuckles cried out as he delivered a strong punch at a large, metallic door, looking at the unexpected result, he pulled his hand back and stared at the unscathed door, "I-i didn't even leave a dent," with that, he furiously punched the door several times, leaning back a bit, be growled, not liking his entrapment.
He could hear a voice over a nearby intercom, "Might as well give up now, Knuckles, there's no way to escape, not even your strength can break through these doors," Eggman boasted, Knuckles growled loudly, "I will escape! If not...." he trailed off, feeling a slight discomfort from his lower abdomen, he looked down, "Uh oh, that can't be good, I have to get out of here before that gets worse," Knuckles quickly landed several more punches at the door.
He punched and punched as hard as he could, but after several minutes of attacking, his arms grew tired, so he placed his back against the wall and slid down, hitting his rump on the floor, "Oh man, this isn't as easy as it used to be, I hate to say this, but Eggman really upgraded this place," he then looked down at his lap, sighing, he thought, 'Maybe I should've gone before I came here. No, no, I WILL get out of here, then I'll find a place to.. go..' even thinking to himself about stuff like this brought a light blush to his muzzle.
After rubbing his arms to remove some of the pain, he resumed attacking the door, his bladder begging not to be ignored; Knuckles grumbled slightly, and crossed one leg over the other, continuing to punch at the door, he groaned, looking around the room, he quickly shoved his hands between his legs 'No one else is here to see me, so, why not?'
He shifted positions for a bit, but his relief was short-lived, as he heard Eggman's voice again, "Uh oh, gotta go?" then, blushing heavily over Eggman's laughter, he removed his hands from his midsection and attacked the door again, "Gotta... get... out... oooh..... this hurts..." he mumbled, desperately trying to get out.
'Oh no, don't tell me I came all this way to help the others on this mission, only to fail, and, if that wasn't enough, to leave having had an accident' he groaned, embarrassed by that thought, his shoved his hands between his legs again, jumping about, doing this infamous dance that showed he desperately needed a bathroom.
"Wow, Knuckles, you're quite the dancer, aren't you?" Eggman laughed again, Knuckles's blush grew more vibrant as he continued to hop around, he felt his gloves grow warm and about started crying, until he pressed even more tightly on the exit, hoping nothing would escape.
He popped his head up, "Maybe... maybe I can use the Shovel Claws! I can break the door open, or dig a hole to..." he trailed off again, remembering that Eggman could hear almost everything he says, so he lowered his voice, "or dig a hole to... um... relieve myself.." he covered his face, he almost resembled a Christmas light, blushing as bright as he was.
Smirking triumphantly, he reached into his quills, only to blush once more, he didn't have them!
"No, no no no no, out of all the days I forget them! No no no no!" Knuckles seriously felt like crying, he had a strong, painful discomfort from his lower abdomen, and now he can't do anything to escape, and there was nothing to hide behind or in, and nothing he could use to empty his bladder into, so he shoved his hands back between his legs, and bounced around more, tears stinging his eyes.
"Ohh, I have never felt this desperate before, looks like I'm about to have my first accident in years! Oh I hate this, but I have no other option.'
Tears streaming down his muzzle, he cried out, "GAHHH!" as the flood he attempted to hold back finally rushed out of his body, completely drenching his socks and shoes, as well as leaving a rather large puddle on the metal flooring.
Knuckles groaned in disbelief, however, another part of him felt greatly relieved; he removed his yellow-stained, gloved hands from his midsection, but instead of doing anything, he just stood there, staring at the now wet floor, silently crying.
After what felt like forever, he heard the door behind him open, "Knuckles! There you are! We were looking everywhere for you!" the voice sounded like Sonic, he turned to see Sonic, Tails, Amy and Cream run in, he turned away from all of them, not wanting to be in this situation, right now all he wanted was to be back on Angel Island, hiding away in a dark cave.
He felt someone rub his back soothingly, and he sniffed, turning to face the others, but refusing to meet their eyes.
He stared down at his urine-drenched feet in embarrassment, he could feel some of the liquid soaking inside his shoes 'Well, these are ruined' he thought.
It was a while before Amy decided to speak up, "Come on, Knuckles, we'll get you dried off and feeling better in no time," she offered a soft smile; Knuckles merely huffed quietly and followed them, saying, "I'm sorry, I just couldn't wait any longer and just..." he sniffed, fresh tears leaking from his eyes.
"It's okay, mister Knuckles, it happens to all of us," Cream said softly.
Knuckles sighed and said, "That was the first accident I have had since I can remember, but, surprisingly, it felt good, to finally be able to let go of all of that stress and embarrassment."
Tails chuckled and said, "Everything has to start somehow, but for now, let's just get you cleaned up, and a new pair of gloves and shoes," to which Knuckles actually allowed a soft laugh at. |
A/N: First of all, I wasn't clear where this fell in the guidelines. No intercourse or oral sex occurs in the story, but there are definitely sexual themes, given the fact that this story involves watersports along with the desperation. If it is breaking any rules, I'm sorry, but I couldn't find anything saying that this wasn't allowed. This was written for a prompt on the Watchmen kink meme.
Now, I have the headcanon that though, in the comics it's not directly stated that it was more than one time and, in the movie it is flat out said that it was only one time, that it was definitely more than one time. I definitely like to think they were lovers for a bit, and that Sally only admits to the one time.
Prompt: “Watersports. Really wanting to see some watersports. Don't hate me for this but I'd love it was Eddie and Sally, especially with Sally as the dom (perhaps revealing herself to be into it during their eventual consensual encounter).”
“Aw, c'mon, why doncha just tell me already?” asked Eddie.
“I don't know, you might not be into that,” Sally said teasingly, smirking playfully. She was baiting him and he knew it; she knew that he would take the bait and she would get her way. She always got her way with him these days.
It had been weeks since their fateful encounter, when he had arrived, unannounced at he house, claiming that he couldn't stand her being mad anymore. He laid his feelings on the table, apologizing for what he had done to her. He was young and stupid, he'd said. He had lost his temper, he'd said. It was inexcusable and unforgivable, but he would do anything to earn her forgiveness, he'd said.
And she had heard him out, because she had never seen Eddie Blake look so sincere, had never heard him use that tone of voice before. There was a part of her that had always known he would someday apologize and that what he had done to her, as horrific as it was, had only been an impulsive mistake. He had been young then, and he had certainly paid for it.
But he was not young anymore, and the years that had once kept her from seeing him as anything more than a handsome child now meant nothing, and she saw him as a man. Back then, she had flirted back only because she enjoyed his obvious crush on her- though even then she had suspected she could grow attracted to him with time; now, she could not help but find the man in her living room desirable. Add in how unsatisfactory things had been with her husband, and the outcome was only natural.
Now, weeks into their affair, she had revealed to him that she had something she was curious about, something that she had been wanting to do in the bedroom for quite a while. Eddie had asked and she had only said that it was strange. That had only caused him to persist, while she talked around the subject, teasing him.
“I just don't know if you could handle it,” she said at least, delivering a blow to his ego that she was sure would get her what she wanted.
“Baby, I can handle anything,” he said, cocky. “Just tell me what it is so we can get down to it.”
“I'd like to piss on you,” she said, bluntly.
Eddie blinked. He was used to the way she dropped profanities in the bedroom; he actually found it incredibly arousing to hear those vulgarities in her pretty little voice. That part did not shock him; the concept of what she was asking for did.
“Uh...d'ya...you're joking, right?”
She laughed. “No, Eddie, I'm not joking. I'm dead serious. It's okay if you don't want to do it. I suspected that it would be too much for you.” Another decisive blow to that ego of his, which she knew was his biggest weakness.
“What?” He laughed, but she detected some nervousness in it. “'Course it ain't! I toldja I could handle anything, it's just...are ya sure that's somethin' ya wanna try?”
Sally rubbed a hand over her lower stomach, watching his eyes widen as he realized her hand was directly over her bladder. She assumed it was the first time he had noticed the slight bump there. “I'm sure. I've been preparing for this, actually. But if you're afraid to try it, we really don't have to.”
“Dammit, Sally!” he burst out, losing his temper for a moment. He soon realized what he had done and tried to calm himself down. “I'm sorry, but...wouldja quit sayin' shit like that? It's not like I'm scared, it's just...you were right when ya said it was strange. But that doesn't mean I won't do it.”
She could tell by the way his eyes darted to the side that, though he was trying to play it cool, he was incredibly nervous. It was true that what she was asking for was odd; that was why she had worked so hard to set it up in a way that would convince him. She knew that she was asking a lot from him, but she had wanted this for so long and she knew that Eddie was the only man who would let her have it.
“I've been preparing for it,” she said, her tone seductive. Again, she ran a hand along her bladder bulge. “I know you've noticed how much I've been drinking tonight. I'm really full, Eddie.” She bit her lip and squirmed for him, making a show of it.
“Yeah, baby?” His tone was edgy, and his shoulders were tense. She could tell that he wasn't sure where to go with this, but he was trying. “You, uh...you gotta piss?”
She nodded, pouting, her lips pursed in a way that always drove him wild. “Mhmm. I really, really do.” She squirmed for him again, moaning slightly and jamming her hands between her legs.
His cock twitched at the display, and she was delighted to see that he was starting to enjoy this. “So, ya wanna...ya wanna come over here and piss for me?”
He was heading in the wrong direction with this, but she couldn't blame him for that. Instead, she could only try to steer him in the right direction. “I really don't know if I'm going to make it,” she whined. She winked at him, hoping he would take the hint.
“O-oh, well, uh...” If she was not trying so hard to stay in character, she would have laughed at the sight of Eddie getting so flustered. “Ya know, there's another...option for that...”
Now he was starting to pick up on it! A throbbing heat settled between her legs, and she was almost surprised at how close she was just knowing that this was about to actually happen. She rubbed herself slightly, disguising it as further action to help her hold, and she moaned. “What's that?” she asked.
He stared at her, cluelessly, for a moment, and it took as she had not to just tell him what to say. But, no, it wouldn't be any fun if she had just scripted everything. Better to let him try his best and hope he kept in the direction she had lead him to.
Finally, he gestured at himself awkwardly and said, “There's me. I mean...you could, ya know. Use me.” And if she was not so overwhelmed by arousal at that statement, she would definitely would have laughed- character be damned- because he actually blushed at what he had said!
But, as things stood, she was overwhelmed by arousal, and was nearing her orgasm at a rapid rate, all before she had made it to the main event. Normally, that would not be a problem, but she feared that if she came, she would also lose control of her bladder and spoil everything. She had to hold out, at least for now.
“I'd love to,” she replied, using her low, seductive voice again. Eddie was incredibly hard now, and definitely turned on by all of, not just the way she was looking at him and speaking to him. She had hoped she would be able to get him into it, and she was not disappointed.
Again, he looked to her for guidance, and this time she was okay with giving it to him. She gestured for him to lay down on her bed, not minding the mess she would have to clean up. Her husband was away on business and would be the none the wiser. Eddie did as told, laying back stiffly.
Sally climbed on top of him, straddling his chest. She looked down into his icy blue eyes, giving him a warm and reassuring smile. The poor guy was still nervous as hell, but she had faith in him. He had stuck it out this long, and now she was going to get to live out one of her most secret, most arousing fantasies. Eddie was up to the task and she knew it, and all that was left was for her to let go.
And so she did.
She threw back her head and moaned as she released the contents of her bladder, her hot piss rushing out and pooling on his chest. He gave a sharp intake of breath when he felt this, and she heard a soft moan that he seemed surprised by.
Sally came, then and there, while she was still peeing on him, and it was, without a doubt, the best orgasm of her life. She could not contain a few shouts, while her stream continued full force. She had been so incredibly full that she pissed for a full minute, her bladder cramping as it relaxed.
When her bladder was empty and she began to come down from her orgasm, she lowered herself, panting, until she lay on top of Eddie. She could feel his cock throbbing against her, and that got her aroused all over again. Her forehead was pressed against his, their eyes locked, and she smiled at him.
“Jesus Christ, Sally,” he said, after a moment's silence. “That was...wow...” She draped her lips over his, giving him a gentle kiss. When she pulled back, he put a hand around the back of her head and pulled her down into a longer, more passionate kiss.
When their lips finally parted, his typical cocky demeanor had returned, and he was smirking at her. “Toldja I could handle it,” he said.
Sally finally allowed herself to laugh, and re-positioned, so that she was straddling him again, but lower this time. “Oh, shut up and let me fuck you,” was all she said.
A/N: Woomp, there it is. I'm planning on writing a second chapter where she decides to experiment more and turns the tables a bit. Eddie will still be a bit reluctant, especially when he finds out what her new plans are. I'll likely post it separate than this, since it will be male focused. It will involve more desperation and wetting than this one did. |
Summary: When fourteen-year-old Agnes is caught making out with a boy, her religious parents ship her off to Mary Magdalen's Home for Girls, a corrective institution for ungodly young women. Agnes isn't too worried, but as it turns out, this is nothing like Bible Camp. Their aim is to drive out the devil, and they will do so by any means necessary.
So, this is an idea I've been kicking around for a while, and I just never knew quite how to write it. The idea started when I read an article about special religious 'schools' in the US where unruly girls were sent to be taught to be good Christians, basically, and where methods ranged from the mundane to the outright sadistic. Please read the tags. This will not be a nice, fluffy or cute story. I'll add extra content warnings to future chapters if necessary. Please consider yourself warned.
—————
CHAPTER ONE
Agnes stared out of the bus window, at the country side swishing past. It was about four in the afternoon, and the day was sunny and hot. She yawned and scratched her cheek, where she had a mosquito bite. She was fourteen years old. Her dark brown hair fell in ringlets around her summer freckled face and she wore a brown skirt and blue blouse. On the seat next to her stood a small suitcase. It contained mostly underwear, a few other clothing items and a Bible. Her parents had been told that everything else would be provided.
The representative from Mary Magdalene’s Home for Girls had arrived at their church only a week before. She had brought three young girls, a bit older than Agnes, in neat white gowns, who had testified about how they had been led so astray by the Devil and how Mary Magdalene’s Home for Girls had helped them find their way back to the Lord. This had been a couple of days before Agnes was caught making out with a boy from school, and her parents had decided that something had to be done about their daughter’s wicked ways. And so they had called Mary Magdalene’s Home for Girls, and asked if they had an opening. It turned out they did.
The bus slowed to a halt. An older woman in the front, who had introduced herself as Miss Corrine when Agnes and about a dozen other girls had filed into the bus that morning, stood up.
‘All right, get your bags, we’re here,’ she said. Agnes picked up her small suitcase and shuffled out of the bus together with the other girls.
As she stepped off the bus, she saw that they were in the middle of nowhere.
‘We’ll continue on foot,’ said Miss Corrine. ‘The path is too narrow for the bus.’
She set off down a narrow dirt road at a quick pace. The girls hurried to keep up. Agnes looked around. Flat grass land surrounded them as far as the eye could see, with a few trees sticking up here and there. There wasn’t a single cloud in the sky. They walked for what must have been at least twenty minutes and the heat was stifling, but then they rounded a corner and the large compound appeared. The girls who had spoken at their church had made it sound like a farm or a ranch, but Agnes couldn’t see any animals. The place seemed barren and dry, and it was surrounded by a chain link fence. It looked more like a prison.
Which Agnes supposed it was. Her parents had sent her off, without her consent, to a correctional facility where she would learn to be a good Christian. Her crime had been kissing a boy, wearing tight jeans and not paying attention in Bible Study group. Which apparently meant she was promiscuous and ungodly.
Agnes had been a good little girl, growing up. Whether out of fear for her father’s belt, her mother’s words, or simply because she was so sheltered, she had hardly ever done anything wrong. She had seen her older brother beaten for talking back, and that was enough to dissuade her from breaking any rules. But entering her teens, Agnes had become more strong willed. She had doubted the religion her parents had pushed upon her since birth, she had wanted to do her own thing, but a small town in Kansas wasn’t a good place to be a rebel. There was always someone watching, and word got back to her parents for every little thing she did.
Miss Corrine led them into an entrance area. A man in a crisp light brown suit stood there waiting for them.
‘Welcome!’ he said warmly and beamed at them all. ‘My nam is Mr. Portman. I am the owner and leader of this establishment, and I’m so pleased to see so many new faces!’ He went on for a couple of minutes, about how their time at Mary Magdalene would help them build character and become better people, how the light of God would save them from the Devil’s influence and make model citizens of them, good mothers and wives, and most importantly, good Christians.
Agnes glanced around as he spoke. The walls of the room were white, and the floor was grey linoleum. There was a reception desk at one end, but no chairs or sofas by way of a waiting area. The only art work was a large painting of Jesus on the wall behind Mr. Portman.
When Mr. Portman had finished speaking, Miss Corrine opened a door off to one side. A dozen girls walked into the room, in a neat line. Like the girls who had come to their church, these girls wore white dresses. They all had their hands clasped in front of them. They lined up opposite Agnes and the other new girls.
‘These are your Big Sisters,’ said Mr. Portman. ‘We have a buddy system here. You will each be assigned a Big Sister who will teach you our rules, show you around and help you find your feet. I will call your names, and the names of your Big Sisters. When you have paired up, your Big Sister will take you to your sleeping quarters and give you a uniform to wear. They will then accompany you to supper, before we all gather for evening prayer.’
Agnes stood as patiently as she could while Mr. Portman started reading off the names on his list. Her name was the last to be read. ‘Agnes Williams,’ said Mr. Portman, ‘your Big Sister will be Mary-Louise Miller.’
The girl who stepped up to Agnes was a couple of years older. She was tall and blonde, with sparkling blue eyes and a sweet smile. ‘It’s so nice to meet you, Agnes!’ she said and shook her hand. She spoke in a soft southern accent, her voice a lilting alto. ‘Come on, I’ll show you where you’re sleeping.’
Mary-Louise brought her to a dormitory down a couple of corridors. There were eight beds in it. One other new girl was being inducted a couple of beds down.
‘I’m in the bed next to yours,’ said Mary-Louise. ‘That way I can keep tabs on you. I’m sure we’ll be best friends!’ She beamed. ‘Here, let me find your uniform.’ She walked up to the small dresser that stood next to the bed. ‘You get two of these,’ she explained, taking out a white dress like her own. ‘We don’t wear any other clothes here, so you won’t be needing anything but your own underwear and night clothes. There’s room in the dresser for that. There’s a bathroom and showers at the end of the hall. Now, get changed.’
Agnes took off her own clothes and put on the white dress. Perhaps this place wasn’t so bad, she thought. Everyone seemed friendly… Maybe she’d be all right. It was only for three months, after all.
Mary-Louise took her to supper when she was done changing. On the way she told her about the daily routine at Mary Magdalene’s.
‘We get up at six every day for morning prayers, before breakfast at seven thirty,’ she said. ‘After breakfast we have Bible Study classes, quiet meditation, things like that, all day, until about five pm. Lunch is at one, and supper is at seven in the evening. We have free time between five and seven. Then we have evening prayer at eight, which is one hour, and the showers are open between nine and ten. Lights out at ten pm.’
‘Sounds very strict,’ said Agnes.
‘It is,’ said Mary-Louise, ‘but we’re better people for it. Routines are key.’
The mess was a large, white room with several long tables. Agnes was at once struck by how quiet it was. The tables were almost full, but the few who were speaking were doing so in hushed murmurs and whispers.
Mary-Louise led her to one of the tables and they sat down. A few minutes later, Mr. Portman, Miss Corrine and a few other staff members came marching into the room. The room fell completely silent. They sat down at a smaller, empty table at the far end. Mr. Portman was last to sit, and before he did, he gave a curt nod to the table closest.
As one, the girls at that table stood up, in silence, and marched over to the counter. They each took a tray, and were handed plates of food by serving staff.
One table at a time, the girls went to collect their food. Soon it was Agnes’s turn.
It was eerie. The only sounds in the room were shuffling feet, the chinking of cutlery and hushed voices from the staff table. The girls all ate in complete silence, it seemed. Approaching the counter, Agnes realised that the serving staff all appeared to be teenaged girls like herself. She wondered fleetingly if they were other students, but was too tired to bother questioning Mary-Louise about it. She was served a vegetable soup with a roll on the side. There were no other choices, and no butter for the roll. She was given water to drink.
The soup didn’t taste like much, but Agnes was hungry, so she ate all of it. So, it seemed, did everybody else. There were no second helpings, however.
Exhausted after the long journey and the new impressions of the day, Agnes sat through evening prayer in a daze, mimicking the other girls and moving her lips as best she could. Afterwards she had a quick shower and went to bed, asleep before her head hit the pillow.
—————
Getting up the next morning was hard. Mary-Louise had to shake her several times before at last Agnes sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. ‘Time’s it?’ she murmured.
‘Already five past six,’ said Mary-Louise. ‘Hurry up and get dressed or we’ll be late for morning prayer!’
Agnes got up and put on her dress. She tied back her dark hair, now messy from sleep.
‘I won’t always be here to wake you up, you know,’ Mary-Louise admonished her as they set off towards the chapel. ‘You’re gonna have to learn to get up on your own.’
‘Sorry,’ Agnes mumbled. She still didn’t feel properly awake. She longed for coffee or something else to wake her up.
She sat through morning prayer trying her best not to doze off, though she appeared to not quite manage, as Mary-Louise had to poke her several times to make her pay attention. After prayer they went down to the mess for breakfast.
Agnes ate a couple of spoonfuls of the bland porridge she had been served and then spent the rest of the meal poking at it with her spoon. She drank orange juice (there was no coffee) and tried to stifle her yawns.
‘Aren’t you going to finish your food?’ whispered Mary-Louise after a while. Her plate was empty and she sat with her hands in her lap, looking curiously at her charge.
‘I’m not really hungry,’ replied Agnes, sleepily. ‘I can never eat in the mornings.’
‘But you have to eat it,’ said Mary-Louise. ‘Those are the rules. Everyone has to empty their plate at every meal. You have no choice.’
‘But I can’t, I’m not hungry.’
Mary-Louise studied her, frowning. ‘Fine,’ she said, after a moment. Then she got up, and walked over to the staff table. She whispered something to Miss Corrine, who stood up and came back with her. Everyone stopped eating and looked up.
Miss Corrine approached Agnes, looking stern. ‘Everyone has to finish their food here, Agnes,’ she said. Agnes was sure everybody could hear her as the room was so quiet. ‘Perhaps we hadn’t made that clear?’
‘I’m sorry, Miss Corrine,’ said Agnes, trying for a smile, ‘but I just can’t eat if I’m not hungry.’
‘Do you squander the gifts the good Lord gives you?’ asked Miss Corrine.
‘No, ma’am…’ Agnes frowned, her smile faltering. ‘I mean, I don’t mean to, but you give us big portions, so . . .’
‘You will finish your food, Agnes, or there will be consequences,’ said Miss Corrine.
Mr. Portman stood from the staff table then, and came towards them. ‘What’s all this then?’ he asked calmly.
‘Agnes refuses to eat, sir,’ said Mary-Louise softly.
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ Mr. Portman turned to Agnes. ‘I would prefer if you eat what’s on your plate.’
‘But, sir, I’m not hungry!’ Agnes’s voice had gained an edge now. She felt annoyed. Surely it was none of anyone else’s business whether she ate breakfast or not?
‘Then I’m afraid you leave me with no choice,’ said Mr. Portman sadly. ‘Miss Corrine, look after everything here. Agnes, Mary-Louise, come with me, please.’
Agnes’s stomach churned as she stood. What was to happen now?
They followed Mr. Portman out of the mess and down the hall towards a door. Upon entering, Agnes discovered the room beyond to be Mr. Portman’s office. It contained a heavy mahogany desk and several bookcases. Mr. Portman sat down behind the desk while the girls remained standing.
‘It pains me to have to do this already on your first day, Agnes,’ said Mr. Portman without looking at them, adjusting a cup full of pens on his desk. ‘But the rules here are strict and meant to be followed. Everything we do here is for your own good, to teach you girls to be good, Christian women. You are sinful by nature. You need guidance. You are here because the Devil has taken up residence in you. I am here because I wish to drive him out.’
There was a silence. Agnes stared down at her tan ballerina flats, saying nothing.
‘Now, as for your punishment.’ Mr. Portman stood, walking over to one of the bookshelves where a jug of water and several glasses stood. ‘Mary-Louise, I delegate to you to make sure that Agnes drinks one glass of water every hour until lunch. You are also to make sure she doesn’t go to the restroom in that time. If she is ready then to show appreciation for the gifts that God has given her and empties her plate, she may visit the restroom after. We’ll start now.’ He filled a glass with water and walked around his desk, handing the glass to Agnes. ‘Drink up.’
Agnes took the glass. Something squirmed in her stomach. She was to go five hours without going to the bathroom while drinking copious amounts of water? It seemed hardly possible. Mr. Portman made an impatient sound, a clearing of the throat and, without looking at him, Agnes lifted the glass to her lips and drained it in a few gulps. Thankfully it wasn’t a very large glass, but she suddenly wished that she hadn’t had all that orange juice.
Mr. Portman dismissed them, and the two girls left his office. They walked in silence for a while. Breakfast was over and it was time for the first class of the day. When they exited the main building to walk across the dry grass to one of the smaller ones, Agnes finally spoke.
‘Why did you tell on me like that?’ she asked softly.
She felt Mary-Louise glance at her out of the corner of her eye for a moment before answering. ‘Like he said. You’re here because you’ve got the Devil in you. They can’t help you expel him if you don’t follow the rules. I did it for your own good. Besides, they would have noticed sooner or later anyway.’
Agnes rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, I see. You did it for me, not to show what a good girl you are. Your motives were purely altruistic.’ She was unable to keep the sarcastic tone out of her voice.
Mary-Louise stopped and turned to her. ‘We’re encouraged to take care of each other here, Agnes.’ Her voice still had the sweet tone of before, but something in her look was cold. ‘We help each other get better. I was like you when I got here. I had demons inside me making me wilful, making me talk back, making me flaunt the rules. The other girls helped me see the error of my ways, helped me shake off the demons and become a better person. I’m not there yet. Us girls, we’re sinful by nature and it’s only by giving ourselves over to the Lord completely that we can rid ourselves of that sin. I’m getting there, and helping you will help me get there. When you do good you are rewarded. When you do bad you’re punished. All we’re doing here is giving a taste in life of the punishments that await the wicked after death.’ She turned away and began to walk again. ‘The Devil loves pleasure and fears pain. It is with pain you drive him out.’
She sounded like a text book. Like she had memorised all these things and was parroting them back the way she’d been taught. This frightened Agnes more than the words themselves. She hadn’t had much choice but to come here like her parents wanted, and she had been resigned to her fate. Spend three months at yet another ‘Bible Camp’, act like a good girl, and then go home. But the certainty with which Mary-Louise spoke, her blind faith in her words and acceptance of the status quo, that was terrifying. It told Agnes that this place changed people, and that if she wasn’t careful it would change her too, and she would lose her sense of self.
By ten o’clock, Agnes had lost her ability to sit still. She fidgeted in her seat while Miss Corrine told them the story of Adam and Eve and explained how Eve’s weakness had damned all women and steeped them in sin. How purity and obedience were the only way towards salvation for any girl. Agnes only picked up bits and pieces, her rapidly filling bladder distracting her. An hour later she was bouncing in her seat, rocking back and forth and trying to refrain from putting her hands between her legs and hold herself. Mary-Louise kept obediently getting up, every hour on the hour, to get her a glass of water. Miss Corrine appeared to have been informed, because she said nothing. Either that or this was such a common occurrence that it hardly bore notice.
At one the girls returned to the mess for lunch, and by now Agnes was beginning to feel like she couldn’t possibly hold it for much longer. She took tiny steps and had to stop often to cross her legs or bend forward and clutch herself, and she felt the occasional trickle go into her panties. Mary-Louise walked next to her patiently.
Agnes couldn’t have told anyone what was for lunch. It was bland and no doubt very healthy, and she wolfed it down at record speed, hoping that if she just finished it all she would be allowed a bathroom break. When Mr. Portman came over to inspect her plate and gave a satisfied smile, she shot to her feet.
‘Can I . . .’ She could hardly get the words out and cleared her throat, dancing slightly on the spot. She decided it would be better to be polite. ‘May I please be excused for the restroom now, sir?’ she asked as sweetly as she could. Mr. Portman’s smile widened.
‘Of course you may.’
Agnes shot out of the mess like a bullet and only just made it to the toilet in time. Peeing had never felt so wonderful as at that moment. She went for at least a minute, voiding her bladder in a hard, steady stream. She had to bite her lip in order not to moan. She was pretty sure moaning was a sin.
—————
The afternoon was spent in so called quiet meditation, which essentially meant sitting in the chapel staring at the cross on the wall. It was impossible for Agnes not to let her mind wander. She thought about home, about her bedroom and her CDs. She realised with a jolt that she had never gone this long without listening to music before. Unless one counted the psalms they sung during prayer, which Agnes most certainly did not. If it didn’t have a beat it wasn’t much worth a damn.
She wondered how much she’d miss dancing by the end of her stay at Mary Magdalen’s. She wondered if she would even remember her favourite songs, going so long without hearing them. And what about her friends?
Agnes sighed deeply at this thought. She missed her friends. Ava, the trivia machine who knew everything. Lily, who was so fashionable and sweet and always helped Agnes with her make-up. Wayne, who hung out with them and who Agnes was pretty sure would turn out to be gay. She would have given just about anything right then to sit in the park with the three of them, sharing a stolen cigarette and laughing about something they’d seen on TV. Would they still like her when she got back?
She looked away from the cross on the wall, glancing about the chapel as covertly as she could manage. Everyone else seemed to be doing what they were supposed to. Some had their hands clasped, lips moving in silent prayer. Others had closed their eyes and looked almost blissful. Next to her, Mary-Louise sat with her hands in her lap, a serene smile playing on her lips and her eyes out of focus. Agnes found herself wondering what she was thinking.
Agnes was about to return her gaze to the cross, figuring that one person not doing what she was supposed to was bound to stick out like a sore thumb, when she spotted another girl who seemed to have her mind elsewhere as well. A redheaded, freckled girl who might have been a year or two older than Agnes sat picking at her dress, looking deeply bored. As though she could feel Agnes’s eyes on her, she looked up and met her gaze. She smiled and rolled her eyes in commiseration, before, heaving what was obviously a heavy and demonstrative sigh, returning her gaze to her own lap. Agnes was too taken aback to return the smile before it was too late.
—————
At five o’clock Mary-Louise finally left Agnes’s side to go hang out with some girls from a different dorm. She asked Agnes to join her, but Agnes had happily refused, longing for some time on her own. She made her way to the common room, which was next to the mess, and sat down in an almost comfortable arm chair. There was a bookshelf in the common room, but it contained only titles like How to Be a Good Girl and Rejecting Satan: A Guide to Spiritual Cleansing, in addition to half a dozen Bibles and several prayer books. There was also an out of tune piano with a sign on it saying that it was not to be played without express permission. So Agnes sat back in her chair and let her mind wander.
Somebody pulled up a chair next to her and sat down. Dragged out of her thoughts, Agnes glanced sideways at the newcomer. It was the redhead from earlier.
‘Hey,’ said the girl, smiling. ‘I’m Maddie. What’s your name?’
‘I’m Agnes,’ said Agnes, sitting up slightly. She took in Maddie’s appearance. She was very pretty, with sparkling green eyes, thin pink lips and a button nose. Her red hair was wavy and shoulder length.
’So, what are you in for, Agnes?’ asked Maddie, leaning back in her chair with her hands behind her head.
Agnes looked away, blushing slightly. ‘Kissing a boy. And probably some other things too.’ She glanced at Maddie again and found her smiling. ‘What about you?’
‘Well, let’s see, where to start . . .’ Maddie counted on her fingers. ‘Having opinions, reading William Blake, disobedience and masturbation. Plus lack of shame for all of the above.’
Agnes laughed nervously. ‘Well, that’s quite a list.’
Maddie shrugged. ‘It all boils down to the same thing, really. Being a girl and not feeling sorry about it.’ Her expression changed to a more serious one. ‘How are you holding up? I gathered that Portman gave you the old water torture. It’s a favourite of his.’ Her eyes seemed to darken at this and her voice took on a bitter edge. ‘Sucks to have to go through that your first day.’
‘Yeah, well . . .’ Agnes looked away uncomfortably.
‘Been through it lots of times myself,’ Maddie continued. ‘Portman’s punishments just don’t seem to bite, though. I’ve been here for like six months, and I’m still the same ungodly, sinful creature as I was when I got here. At this rate I’ll grow old and die in this hellhole.’
Agnes looked around nervously. She was pretty sure that this was not a conversation they were meant to be having, but no one seemed to be listening to them. That made her feel braver.
‘I miss my friends,’ she said. ‘I just really wanna go home.’
‘Yeah,’ said Maddie. ‘Me too. But, hey. I don’t know if I’m right, but I kind of feel like you and me get each other. So, you know, maybe we could be friends?’
Agnes smiled. ‘I’d like that.’
‘Cool. Just don’t tell Big Sister Mary-Louise about it.’
As they talked, Agnes thought that if Maddie could spend six months at Mary Magdalen’s and still be normal, maybe there was hope for her too. |
So, finally finished chapter 2! Sorry about the wait. Hope you like it! General warnings: This chapter contains corporal punishment and abuse.
—————
CHAPTER TWO
Agnes had fully intended to eat her breakfast like a good girl the next day. She’d had enough of punishment and Bible study was excruciating enough without having to pee. But when she sat down for breakfast after morning prayer she only managed to force down a few bites. The last spoonful she ate hardly went down at all, and she was starting to feel a little bit sick. Normally she never ate breakfast.
She stared down at her plate, trying to force herself to pick up the spoon, but it was no good. She could feel Mary-Louise’s eyes on her.
‘Not eating?’ asked the older girl softly.
Agnes looked at her pleadingly. ‘I really can’t.’
With a great sigh Mary-Louise stood up. Agnes stared down at her hands in her lap. She fisted her hands into her dress, dreading what was coming. She could hear footsteps approaching, and then someone cleared their throat next to her. She looked up to find Mr. Portman standing there.
‘I had hoped that you’d learned your lesson yesterday,’ he said.
‘Please, sir, I’m sorry,’ Agnes all but whimpered. ‘I want to eat, but I feel like if I do I’m just gonna throw up.’
‘That’s the Devil inside you,’ said Mr. Portman softly. Then he sighed. ‘Clearly we need to step things up. One glass of water every half hour, I think.’
Agnes stared at him. ‘But . . . I barely managed yesterday!’
‘We do what it takes,’ said Mr. Portman. ‘Mary-Louise, I trust you to keep an eye on Agnes.’ Then he turned on his heel and returned to the staff table.
Mary-Louise sat back down and reached out for the jug of water on the table. She filled Agnes’s glass. ‘Drink.’
Agnes’s stomach churned, but she drank the water.
She began to feel it within an hour, the slight pressure that told her that she should definitely pee now. After her fourth glass of water she could no longer sit still. Her knee was bouncing up and down uncontrollably, and she was holding herself under the desk, trying desperately to pay attention to what Miss Corrine was saying. She felt the first drops slip into her panties at around ten. She had begun to rock back and forth again, and she screwed up her eyes and held back a whimper.
Mary-Louise stood up and fetched her another glass of water. Upon her return, Agnes grabbed her wrist. ‘I can’t hold it,’ she whispered. ‘I really can’t. It’s too much.’
‘You can hold it,’ said Mary-Louise calmly, putting the glass in front of her. ‘Drink.’
The world fell away, bit by bit, as Agnes’s desperation became more acute. It became harder and harder to focus on anything other than the fullness of her bladder, the pressure against her urethra. She held back as best she could, but drop after drop seemed to leak out into her panties, making them damp. At one point she released a loud whimper that caused everyone to look at her, and her face burned with embarrassment.
It happened all at once. Suddenly and without warning, she felt a warm spurt of urine trickle out of her, enough that she could feel it on her thighs.
She stood.
‘Sit down,’ Mary-Louise murmured.
‘I have to go!’ Agnes hissed urgently. ‘I just, I have to, I’m gonna—’ She felt another spurt and whimpered. ‘I’m gonna pee myself, please, I have to—Oh, God, it’s coming out, oh no—’
But it was too late. She doubled over, clutching at her crotch with both hands, but there was no stopping it. Warm piss streaked down her legs and onto the floor, forming a puddle beneath her.
Agnes felt mortified. A murmur went through the classroom as people began to realise what was happening, and they all turned to stare at her. Agnes released an involuntary sob as she tried to stop the stream of piss, but it was coming so hard now, splattering onto the linoleum, and after a few moments Agnes gave up and let it come. The room fell silent around her, the only sounds Agnes’s strained sobs and the hiss of her pee.
When it had finally stopped, after what felt like a lifetime, Miss Corrine spoke. ‘Agnes, clean that up. There’s a mop in the cupboard. Mary-Louise, when she’s done, take her to Mr. Portman.’ Then she returned to her Bible verses, as if nothing at all had happened.
Agnes cleaned up her pee, and then followed Mary-Louise out of the room. They walked in complete silence. Agnes’s socks and shoes were soaked. Her panties were wet through and rapidly cooling, and even her dress had several dark stains where she’d inadvertently pulled it between her legs while trying to hold it in. She couldn’t seem to stop sobbing. The humiliation burned inside her.
Mary-Louise knocked on Mr. Portman’s office door. ‘Come in,’ came his voice from within, and she opened the door and they entered.
‘Sir,’ she said before he even had time to ask what was going on, ‘Agnes wet herself.’
Mr. Portman’s gaze shifted to Agnes, taking in her appearance, from tear stained face to urine stained dress. ‘I see,’ he said after a few moments. ‘Thank you, Mary-Louise. Please go fetch dry clothes for Agnes. You can leave them outside in the hall. Then you may return to class.’
Mary-Louise all but curtsied and left the room, closing the door behind her.
Mr. Portman sighed and stood up. ‘I admit I’m disappointed, Agnes,’ he said sadly. ‘This lack of control confirms my fears and tells me that the devil is far more deeply imbedded in you than I thought. It seems stronger punishments may be necessary.’
He walked around her, examining her. Agnes kept her gaze fixed on the floor, too humiliated and embarrassed to look at him.
‘Please remove your clothing.’
Agnes felt her whole body stiffen, and she inadvertently lifted her gaze to Mr. Portman’s face, utterly incredulous. Had he actually just asked her to take off her clothes?
‘Sir?’ she said slowly.
‘You heard me, little missy,’ said Mr. Portman with a gentle smile.
Agnes blushed crimson. He couldn’t honestly be asking her this.
‘I’ll give you one more chance before I lose my patience,’ he said, and there was an edge to his voice now that sent cold shivers down her back.
Hands trembling, she did as she was told. She pulled her white dress over her head, dropping it to the floor next to her. It had revealed a pale pink camisole and simple white panties, though the panties had bloomed dark with urine. She hesitated.
‘Go on,’ said Mr. Portman. ‘Take it all off.’
Agnes found herself sobbing again. Her vision blurred with tears as she began to remove the camisole, revealing small breasts tipped with pink nipples. Mr. Portman said nothing. He simply stared, a mild expression on his face. Agnes’s hands shook worse than ever as she removed her panties. She couldn’t look at him. Her face felt hot, and she felt vulnerable, exposed and humiliated.
‘Good,’ said Mr. Portman. ‘Please go over to the desk, and bend forwards with your hands splayed on it.’
Agnes couldn’t stop herself. ‘W—What are you going to—’ she stuttered, but he cut her off.
‘Don’t question me,’ he said softly. ‘Simply do as I say. Things will be worse for you if you don’t.’
With faltering steps, Agnes made her way over to the desk, her arms hugging her exposed body awkwardly. She realised with a jolt that she needed to pee again. Her last glass of water had only been a few minutes before she had lost control, after all. Reaching the desk she glanced behind her, eyes wide with fear. Mr. Portman met her eyes and nodded. She placed her palms on the desk and bent over.
She heard him moving behind her, and squeezed her eyes shut on reflex. The sound of a belt buckle being unfastened. It was a sound she knew all too well.
The leather of the belt hit her lower back without warning, and she cried out, more out of surprise than pain.
‘The devil loves pleasure and fears pain,’ said Mr. Portman, before the belt hit her a second time, this time striking her rear. ‘He comes inside you when you sin, finding his way in when you masturbate, when you drink or take drugs, when you have premarital sex, or when you commit other acts of carnal pleasure.’ The belt came down again, and Agnes cried out in pain this time. ‘Once he’s inside you, he makes you wilful. He makes you sin further. He makes you disobey your elders and betters.’ Another strike of the belt, and Agnes could no longer cry out, instead choking on a sob. ‘The only way to drive him out is through pain and discomfort. The greater his hold, the more pain is required.’ He struck again, extra hard it seemed, and Agnes found her voice again, whimpering loudly. Tears were streaming down her face, from eyes still shut tight.
Mr. Portman struck her five times more, before she finally heard him put the belt down on the desk and dared to open her eyes. Her legs were quivering so she could hardly stand.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and flinched.
‘I think that’s enough for now,’ said Mr. Portman’s voice, near her ear. ‘Stand up straight.’
Agnes nearly lost her balance when she tried, but finally she stood again, naked and humiliated, unable to look at the man in front of her. She had felt her father’s belt many times, sure, but he was her father. Mr. Portman was a complete stranger. At least she had managed to hold her bladder.
Mr. Portman opened the door and stepped outside, returning a moment later with a fresh set of clothes for Agnes. He didn’t give them to her, however, but sat down behind his desk, laying the clothes out before him.
‘Starting tomorrow,’ he said, folding his hands in front of him, ‘we go back to one glass of water per hour. You’re permitted to go to the restroom only at mealtimes, and only provided you eat everything that’s on your plate. If you fail to follow any of these rules, or if you wet yourself again, other punishments will be devised.’ He surveyed her for a moment. ‘It’s clear that you need to learn obedience before anything else. Your Big Sister will keep an eye on you. You are dismissed. Get dressed and return to your class.’ He pushed her clothes to the end of his desk and, ashamed, Agnes stepped up and grabbed them, dressing herself as quickly as she could.
—————
The rest of the day passed in a haze. Agnes could hardly believe what she had been put through, couldn’t stand to think of the humiliation she had felt. She felt the other girls staring at her, judging her. She hadn’t peed herself since she was four. Doing so at fourteen, well, that just wasn’t acceptable. She knew that. Felt it in her bones.
On top of that burned the humiliation and pain of the beating she had received. She was reminded of it every time she sat down, every touch to her raw bottom pure agony. The one redeeming feature of her situation was that she wasn’t expected to resume her punishment until the next day, and was given leave to visit the bathroom whenever she liked.
She kept her head down, refusing to even look at anyone else and speaking only when spoken to, until five when she went to sit down in the same chair in the common room as the day before. She thought the others must be gossiping about her behind her back, laughing at her, and was ready to yell at them to leave her alone when someone sat in the chair opposite. Looking up, however, she found it to be Maddie, who smiled gently at her.
‘You okay?’ she asked.
Agnes shrugged, looking down at her hands.
‘I’m real sorry they’re putting you through all this when you only just got here,’ Maddie continued. ‘They’re a bunch of sadistic assholes. They don’t deserve your tears, baby girl.’
Agnes looked up at her again, and found Maddie’s green eyes locked to hers. She opened her mouth, but somehow sound just wouldn’t come out. Clearing her throat she tried again. ‘After I . . . w-wet myself . . . he beat me. With his belt, hard. It was . . .’ She looked away once more, unable to continue, and felt tears stain her cheeks.
Maddie leaned forward and put her hand on Agnes’s knee. ‘I know. I’ve been there. Hell, I’m still there and believe me, the punishments keep getting more creative. I’ll tell you something, Agnes. The god that demands girls be punished just for being girls is no god of mine. It might surprise you, but I actually believe god is real. He’s nothing like what they make him out to be, though. My god doesn’t want me to feel pain. He doesn’t hate me for what Eve did in the garden. My god makes no demands of me. He only asks that I do right by other folks, if I possibly can, and even when I fail, he forgives me.’
Agnes swallowed and looked around. No one seemed to be listening to their conversation, so she whispered, ‘I don’t believe in god.’
Maddie smiled. ‘That’s okay. You don’t have to. My god would never punish someone for not believing in him. That would be petty and cruel. No, the folks he’ll punish are folks like Portman. Self-righteous, holier-than-though bastards who take his name in vain by professing to do his work, while all they do is hurt people. Those are the ones he’ll punish. Don’t you believe them, Agnes. There is nothing wrong with you. You’re beautiful.’
The door to the common room opened, and Mary-Louise walked in with three other girls. Spotting Agnes and Maddie she strolled over at a leisurely pace. Maddie stood up when she saw her, eyes narrowing.
‘It’s good that you want to make friends, Agnes,’ said Mary-Louise sweetly, ‘but you really could do much better than her. I worry she’ll be a bad influence.’
‘Given up on me, darling?’ said Maddie, just as sweetly.
‘I’ll never give up on anyone who wants to repent, Madeline. In the meantime, I suggest you don’t go spreading your sinfulness to other girls.’
‘Well, someone’s gotta show the kid some basic human kindness,’ Maddie retorted, crossing her arms. ‘Big Sis.’
Mary-Louise smiled sadly. ‘I’ve suggested they let you go, you know. Some folks can’t be helped. But Mr. Portman is a better person than I am. He’s not ready to give up on you just yet.’
Maddie rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, that man is all heart.’ She looked back at Agnes. Her attempted smile came out as more of a grimace. ‘I should go. It’ll be supper time soon, anyway. Be good, baby girl.’
Agnes watched Maddie walk away, and felt a familiar ache in her chest, the same kind of ache she had felt when she said goodbye to Ava, Lily and Wayne the day before her parents shipped her off to Mary Magdalen’s. She looked over at Mary-Louise, wondering if she and her friends were going to sit down with her, but before she had time to ask, they turned their back on her and went over to one of the couches instead. Agnes pulled her knees up to her chin and tried not to cry.
—————
After dinner that night she went straight to the showers. She hadn’t gotten to clean herself up properly after wetting herself, and she had felt pretty filthy all day. Taking off her clothes, she caught a glimpse of her bottom in the mirror. Red welts covered her flesh, and seeing them was almost enough to make he cry again. It wasn’t the first time she had been spanked, but her father had never hit her quite so hard.
Hot water was too much for her sore lower back and rear end, and stifling a whimper Agnes turned down the temperature to just below body temperature.
Feeling clean at least, she changed into pyjamas and crawled into bed. Sleeping on her back was not an option, so she lay on her stomach, hugging her pillow underneath her. With the day she had had, she had thought sleep would find her quickly, but no such luck, of course. Instead she lay there listening to the other girls going to bed, trying hard not to think too much. When Mary-Louise entered the dorm Agnes tried very hard to pretend she was asleep, and eventually she drifted off into an uneasy slumber.
Edited October 13, 2015 by ThornWild
(see edit history) |
Warnings: This chapter contains sexual content. This chapter also contains involuntary messing, though not at the same time. I'm not into messing, you understand, it just fit the story. I'm sorry if that squicks you. I probably won't be using it in future chapters.
—————
CHAPTER THREE
The following few days passed in a predictable pattern and without much incident. As Agnes still couldn’t bring herself to finish her breakfast, she was made to continue what Maddie had so aptly referred to as the water torture. Agnes would be desperate and shaking by the time she made it to lunch and supper, only just able to hold on until she had emptied her plate and was permitted use of the restroom, but back on one glass of water per hour instead of two, she managed not to wet herself.
Mr. Portman had not gotten personally involved in her punishment since the beating. Instead, he delegated to Mary-Louise, who turned out to be a natural. During classes and meditation, the blonde appeared every hour to make sure Agnes drank her water, and further delegated to other girls to keep eyeballs on the restrooms whenever they had free time, during which Agnes was not made to drink but was still not permitted to relieve herself. While this level of control was unnerving, Agnes found herself grateful for the last part. It meant that she could get some time alone, unwatched, even if she didn’t get to pee.
They had been let out early from their afternoon classes, and Agnes was sat under a beech tree in the grounds. While she didn’t have to keep drinking water once classes were ended, the afternoons were in many ways the worst, as she had to hold it longer than the mornings. She rocked back and forth where she sat, her modesty not permitting her to hold herself as she so desperately wanted. Somehow it was worse today. Then someone appeared at her side.
‘Hey,’ said Maddie’s soft, kind voice. ‘You doin’ okay, baby girl?’
Agnes shook her head. ‘No,’ she found herself sobbing, tears in her eyes. It had been three hours since lunch. It was another three hours until supper.
Maddie stroked her hair soothingly. ‘Poor baby . . .’ She took Agnes’s hand in hers. ‘Come on. Come with me.’
Agnes got to her feet with a whimper and allowed herself to be led into the main building. It was a nice day, sunny with a cool breeze, so most of the girls were outside. The corridor was deserted, but as they passed the common room and the bathroom across the hall from it, Agnes noticed one of Mary-Louise’s friends look up. The restroom look-out, no doubt.
They continued down the hall, and then Maddie stopped and pulled open a door.
It was a maintenance closet, neatly stocked with buckets and mops and other cleaning utensils. Maddie pulled Agnes inside and shut the door, lighting a bare bulb in the ceiling.
There was enough room for them to stand a few feet apart, but not much more. Agnes looked around, fidgeting.
‘Why are we in here?’
‘So we can get some privacy,’ said Maddie. She wasn’t quite whispering, but kept her voice low.
‘Won’t they notice we’re gone?’
Maddie shrugged. ‘They’re watching the bathrooms, not you. At least for now.’ She looked Agnes up and down, shaking her head. ‘You look awful, hon.’
Agnes gave a humourless laugh. ‘Yeah. Thanks.’
‘I didn’t mean it like that. Listen, I’ve been through everything you’re goin’ through. I wanna help you. There are lots of ways to handle it, make it less terrible. You’re already doin’ way better than I was in the beginning. Heck, when I first got here and they put me through the water torture, I wet myself every single day, and they gave me hell for it. Wish someone could have told me then what I know now . . .’
Agnes nodded. She was trying to pay attention, but focusing was hard, and she was dancing on the spot. ‘I’m sorry, I just . . . God, I need to pee so bad!’
‘I know, baby girl, I know.’ Maddie gave her a sad little smile. ‘Does it hurt?’
‘Not yet, thankfully.’
‘Good. Hold onto that.’ She paused. ‘You know, you can grab yourself if you want. You can do whatever you want in front of me, I’ll never judge.’
Agnes blushed and looked away, but put one hand between her legs, holding on. It felt like it helped.
‘Like I said,’ Maddie continued, ‘there’s lots of ways to make it less awful. Lots of things you can do. Grabbin’ yourself is one of ’em. If you can manage to control it, you can also try letting out just a little bit into your panties to lighten the pressure when it gets bad. They don’t check. But that’s provided you can stop. Practicing when you’re in the restroom is a good start. Of course, a lot of it’s up here.’ She tapped her temple with a forefinger. ‘If you can keep yourself from thinkin’ about it too much, either through meditation or distraction, that helps a lot. If you ever wet yourself when you were a kid, you’ll know you often didn’t even realise you needed to pee until it was too late, simply because you were having too much fun to notice.’
All of this made sense, but in her current state of need it was hard for Agnes to imagine that she’d ever be able to just forget that she had to pee. Still, she nodded and tried to smile. Maddie smiled back.
‘Physically, we already talked about a couple things, but of course the most efficient thing you can do is masturbate.’
Agnes felt her face flush and her eyes widen. ‘Wh-what?’
‘Well, everythin’ down there is connected, see? And when you get turned on, it all swells and stops the flow.’ Maddie paused, looking at Agnes, studying her red face. ‘You ain’t ever touched yourself, have you?’
This made Agnes blush even darker. ‘Of-of course I have!’ she spluttered. ‘Just . . . I mean . . .’
‘You don’t really know how it all works? Guessin’ your school didn’t have sex ed, huh?’
Agnes shook her head.
‘Nah, mine neither,’ said Maddie. ‘But there are other ways of finding out about this stuff. Here’s the thing. Your clitoris,’ the word caused Agnes to look away, ‘is pretty much the most marvellous organ in the human body. It has somethin’ like ten times as many nerve endings as the head of a penis, and is the only organ that exists entirely for the sake of givin’ pleasure. Me, I can’t imagine God would make somethin’ that amazing if he didn’t mean for us to use it, can you? Anyway, what most people think of as the clit is only the tip of the iceberg, you know? It stretches all the way back to your ass, down your thighs, up into your vagina . . .’ She stopped, peering at Agnes. ‘I’m sorry, I’m makin’ you uncomfortable.’
Agnes shook her head again. ‘No! I mean, yeah, but only cause I’m not used to . . .’ She felt something squirm in the pit of her stomach. What Maddie was telling her was interesting, intriguing, and unlike anything anyone had ever told her before. She wanted to know more, but at the same time it scared her. She didn’t believe that sexuality was sinful, not really, but it was hard to let go of everything she’d been taught in one fell swoop. ‘It’s a lot to take in,’ she mumbled.
‘Yeah, I get that.’ Maddie felt silent for a moment. ‘I . . . I could show you. If you want. Obviously just if you want, it’s totally up to you!’ Her freckled cheeks flushed pink. Somehow that made Agnes feel braver.
‘No, I . . . If you want. I mean . . .’ Agnes swallowed before whispering, ‘Show me.’
Maddie hitched up the skirt of her dress, revealing simple, white panties. She tied the dress around her waist to get it out of the way, and then hesitated.
‘You . . . You don’t have to,’ said Agnes weakly, but Maddie smiled shyly, and pulled her panties down to her knees.
Agnes could see a dusting of red hair, and then hands, fingers, moving. Maddie widened her stance for better access, bent her knees a little. Her thin lips were shut tight and she breathed heavily through her nose. Agnes was mesmerised, couldn’t look away, eyes flitting between Maddie’s busy hands and her face.
‘See?’ Maddie breathed shakily. ‘It’s easy. You . . . You can try too, if . . . If you want. I can—I can talk you through it. Mm!’
The something that had been squirming in Agnes’s stomach bloomed outward, warm and wild, racing up into her chest and down, down into her underwear. She could feel her heartbeat throbbing there, fast and fluttering, and she wanted to.
Copying Maddie, she pulled her dress up and her panties down, all too aware of the other girl’s eyes on her but finding she didn’t care much. Reaching down with shaky fingers, she touched herself. As she did, she heard Maddie utter a soft moan and met her gaze.
Maddie’s pupils were blown, and she was panting. ‘G-good girl,’ she whispered. ‘Go on.’
‘It’s . . .’ Agnes paused, feeling. She was touching the same place Maddie was touching, but somehow it didn’t seem to do much. ‘I don’t know if it’s working . . .’
‘You’re dry,’ Maddie said. ‘Dip your fingers inside.’
‘In . . . Inside?’ Agnes licked her lips and did as she was told. It was tight, moist, and that wetness coated her fingers. Then she returned them to their task, and the feeling now was completely different. Her breath hitched and she closed her eyes.
‘That’s it, baby girl. You’re doin’ good,’ Maddie whispered, and Agnes could hear her come closer. She didn’t touch her, just stood next to her, and Agnes could feel her breath on her neck as she spoke. ‘That’s it. Just keep going.’
Agnes’s breath grew laboured, and she could hear her pulse rushing in her ears. She bit her tongue to stifle a moan, and it came out as a quiet whimper instead. It felt so good, so real, and suddenly she wanted to share it, wanted to touch Maddie too, kiss her. She pushed the idea away. That wasn’t what this was. It wasn’t like that at all. And yet, Maddie’s whispering voice in her ear was enough to push her over the edge, and she had to grit her teeth and hold her breath, and then it was over.
Breath coming in sharp bursts, Agnes opened her eyes to find Maddie’s kind, green ones gazing into them. She had let her dress back down, and was smiling kindly.
‘Good girl,’ she said again, and Agnes blushed.
She pulled her panties back up and let her dress down. Maddie reached up onto a shelf and pulled down a bottle of hand disinfectant.
‘Here,’ she said, and squirted some onto Agnes’s hand before taking some for herself. ‘They’ll never know if you take some.’
‘Thanks,’ said Agnes softly.
‘You feel okay?’
Agnes nodded. Her need had lessened. While Maddie had talked to her, she’d quite forgotten to feel desperate, and now it was kind of like someone had put a cork in her. The need was there, but it felt like less work to hold. ‘It . . . It helped.’
’Told you it would,’ said Maddie with a grin. ‘This has saved me so many times. You can touch yourself through your clothes under the desk in class. No one will pay you any mind, they expect you to be whimpering and rocking and grabbing yourself. And this closet is amazing. Hell, I even pissed in here once. No one ever found out.’ Her grin faltered and she blushed. ‘I mean . . . I was pretty desperate, so . . .’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ Agnes said quickly. ‘I totally understand! I . . . I almost peed outside yesterday, but there were too many people around and nowhere to hide . . .’
Maddie laughed, but it was a kind laugh, not a derisive one. ‘Oh, yeah, I’ve had that problem. The grounds here are so bare, there are no bushes to hide behind or anything.’ She smiled. ‘I’m glad you’re feeling better, and glad I could help.’
‘You wanna go to the common room?’ Agnes asked.
Maddie hesitated. ‘I . . . I dunno. Your Big Sis wouldn’t like it too much, I don’t think. You may have noticed I’m not exactly kosher. I . . . wouldn’t want you to get in trouble.’
Agnes pursed her lips. ‘Screw Mary-Louise. I don’t care. I can’t get in trouble just for talking to you.’ She took Maddie’s hand and opened the door, daylight spilling into the maintenance closet from the windows at the end of the hall. ‘Come on. If we go now our chairs may still be free.’
—————
Maddie was kissing her. Her thin lips were so soft, and her skin smelled of roses. Agnes had never been kissed like that before. The only person she had kissed was Theo back home. She put her arms around Maddie, pulling her close, feeling her soft curves. It was perfect, except . . .
Agnes pulled back. ‘You know, I really have to pee.’
Maddie smiled softly. ‘Then pee. No one’s looking.’
‘I should go to a bathroom.’
‘Ssh, it’s okay. You can just pee right here. Go on, baby girl. I’ve got you.’
So Agnes peed in her panties, and it was warm and wet and rather than making her feel embarrassed or afraid, it felt good. It was relief and pleasure and everything that was wonderful. Maddie was holding her and kissing her, and it felt good.
‘Good girl,’ Maddie purred. ‘Agnes . . . You’re such a—’
Agnes woke with a jolt. Dawn light crept in through the curtains of the dorm, blinding her momentarily, and she realised that she and her bed were warm, and wet. She’d wet the bed. She was still wetting the bed, and she tried to stop the flow, but there was no halting it. She blinked, and another realisation hit her. Someone was standing over her, looking down at her.
‘Agnes,’ said Mary-Louise’s sweet voice. ‘You were mumbling in your sleep. It’s time to wake up and go to morning prayer.’
Agnes blinked a few more times and felt her face heat. This was bad. She couldn’t let Mary-Louise know that she’d wet the bed. She was sure she’d be punished for it. ‘You . . . You go ahead,’ she stuttered. ‘I’ll catch up.’
Mary-Louise’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t think so, missy. What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing!’ said Agnes, too quickly. ‘Nothing’s wrong, I just—’
‘Get up, please,’ said Mary-Louise, and though her voice was still sweet, there was an edge to it that Agnes did not like. ‘Now.’
Agnes bit her lip and pushed her covers off. There was no mistaking the dark, yellowish stain on the white sheets. Her face burned, and she felt tears threatening to spill from her eyes.
‘Oh dear,’ Mary-Louise tutted. ‘That’s not very good, is it? No, leave it,’ she said, as Agnes made to remove the sheet. ‘Get dressed and come to morning prayer. We’ll go see Mr. Portman after.’
Agnes sat in the chapel with a knot in her stomach, heart hammering in her chest. The humiliation of wetting the bed was one thing. The promise of possible punishment for the deed was quite another. Yet, even through all her dread, her mind managed to return to the dream she’d been having, of Maddie kissing her. She didn’t know what to make of it. She felt confused, overwhelmed. It was true, she had wanted to kiss Maddie the day before, but she’d put it down to her arousal, a natural reaction to a physical state. Now she was less sure. When Maddie tried to catch her eye, Agnes avoided her gaze.
As soon as prayer had finished, Mary-Louise grabbed her by the arm and walked over to Mr. Portman. She spoke to him in hushed tones. Agnes tried not to listen, shame burning on her face. Mr. Portman just nodded thoughtfully and set off in the direction of his office. Mary-Louise followed, dragging Agnes behind her.
‘This is very serious, Agnes,’ said Mr. Portman as he sat down behind his desk. ‘Mary-Louise tells me you were talking in your sleep before you wet the bed, and what she heard was no human language she could recognise.’
Agnes raised her eyebrows in surprise, in spite of everything. ‘I—what?’
‘It seems as though the devil inside you is stepping up his game, so to speak,’ Mr. Portman continued, paying her little mind. ‘That’s good. It means we’ve got him scared. He’s attempting to take control of you in your sleep. Tell me, what were you dreaming?’
Agnes flushed scarlet. There was no way she could tell them what she had actually dreamed. Both for her own sake and for Maddie’s, that had to remain secret. ‘I . . . I don’t remember,’ she said weakly.
‘Oh? Not even a little?’ Mr. Portman coaxed. ‘Come now.’
‘I . . . I think it was . . . I just dreamed about going to the bathroom . . .’
‘Hm . . .’ Mr. Portman leaned back in his chair and scrutinised her. ‘If the rest comes back to you, you must tell me. I’m here to help you, Agnes. You know that, don’t you?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good.’ He stood, walking over to the bookshelf where the jug of water stood. ‘One glass every half hour,’ he said, pouring with his back to them. ‘We’ll get that devil out of you yet.’ He turned around and handed the glass to Agnes. She took a deep breath and drank it all in one go. ‘Now, you go ahead to the mess. I just need a quick word with your Big Sister.’
—————
Half way through the morning’s Bible class, Agnes’s stomach began to hurt. It was unpleasant to have that happen while she needed to pee so badly (though she was managing to hold her bladder better than she had the last time she’d been on two glasses an hour), but it wasn’t until an hour before lunch that she realised that she didn’t just need to pee. Her stomach bubbled and groaned, and she clutched it, nearly doubling over in her seat as a cramp seized her.
As soon as it subsided she raised her hand, but Miss Corrine ignored her. In her desperation, Agnes called, ‘Miss Corrine? May I be excused for the restroom?’
‘You’ve had your bathroom privileges removed,’ said Miss Corrine without looking at her. ‘You have to wait until lunch.’
‘But I need to—’ Agnes bit her lip. ‘I really need to go. I won’t be able to hold it!’ She hoped to God that Miss Corrine would understand what she meant, but she had already gone back to ignoring her.
Next to her, Mary-Louise whispered something to two of her friends, Jessica and Annabelle. Then she spoke up. ‘Miss Corrine, we have permission to take her.’
Astonished, Agnes saw Miss Corrine nod unconcernedly, and then Mary-Louise grabbed her by the arm again and marched her from the classroom, her friends trailing behind. They didn’t stop by the restrooms, though. Instead, Agnes was led to the dormitory building. The pain in her stomach was intense now, and she desperately tried to hold on, but before they had reached their destination she felt something slippery and wet come out in her panties, and she gasped.
‘Oh, God, no please! Listen, guys, I have to go right now, you don’t understand! No, stop! I can’t!’ Agnes whimpered, pleaded. She was going to lose control, and this was not like peeing her pants in front of the whole class, or wetting the bed. This was so much worse.
Mary-Louise picked up her pace, and down the corridor they went until they reached the entrance to the showers. She pushed Agnes roughly inside the tiled room, just as she lost control of both her bladder and her bowels and began to void both.
It was the most awful and humiliating thing she had ever felt. Her panties became heavy and full, and it started to leak, and soon shit was slipping down her thighs and splattering onto the tiles, echoing in the white room, while Mary-Louise, Jessica and Annabelle watched, their faces impassive. Agnes sobbed and covered her eyes.
‘Please, God, make it stop!’ she whimpered. But it didn’t stop. It kept coming, and she stood there, feeling filthy, the smell reaching her nostrils and nearly making her retch. And then, just as she thought that this couldn’t possibly get any worse, a hard stream of icy water hit her in the chest, and she screamed.
Agnes tore her hands away from her eyes to see Mary-Louise standing there, the nozzle of a hose aimed straight at her. The look on her face was still the same blank, impassive one, but in her eyes something else gleamed. Happiness. Pleasure. Glee. It made Agnes feel slightly sick.
She was soon drenched and shivering as well as sobbing. She hugged herself against the cold stream of water, crying in earnest, unable to stop. She had no words left for them, nothing but cries of misery and humiliation. Her bowels seemed to have emptied, and she had stopped peeing long ago. All the remained was cold pain and dread. And then she heard a voice, and how a single voice could sound like a choir of angels she would never know, but it did, because it was Maddie’s voice.
‘Hey! What the hell are you doing? That’s enough! Stop it!’
‘Go away, Maddie,’ said Mary-Louise serenely. ‘This is none of your business.’
‘Yeah,’ Jessica piped up. ‘This punishment is our job.’
Maddie’s hands were balled into fists, her eyes as fiery as her hair. ‘I’m making it my business! You stop this right now, or so help me—’
‘What will you do?’ said Annabelle, and there was laughter in her voice. ‘You’ll get in trouble if you try to stop us. We’re doing the Lord’s work!’
‘Torturing people is the Lord’s work, is it? You self-righteous bitches!’
Agnes wanted to call out to her to stop. She didn’t want Maddie to get into trouble on her account, didn’t want her to suffer punishment, but her voice wouldn’t work. She watched, as though in slow motion, as Maddie raised her fist and punched Mary-Louise straight in the nose.
Mary-Louise immediately dropped the hose, which writhed around on the floor like a snake, spraying everything with cold water. Annabelle hurried to close the tap, while Jessica rushed to Mary-Louise’s side. Mary-Louise was bleeding, and she glared at Maddie with cold contempt.
‘You’ll be punished for this!’ she hissed, not a hint of sweetness left in her voice.
‘See if I care!’ Maddie retorted. ‘Now, fuck off!’
The other two recoiled at Maddie’s use of language, but Mary-Louise just kept glaring, pinching her nose. Then she turned and left the shower room with the others in tow.
Agnes sank to the floor. Most of the evidence of what had happened had flushed away, though there was still an ugly weight in her panties. She was too exhausted to care. As soon as she had seen the others disappear, Maddie skidded to her side and kneeled next to her.
‘Are you okay?’
Agnes couldn’t answer. She just shook her head, and then fresh tears were coming. Maddie put her arms around her and pulled her close.
‘Oh, baby girl . . . I’m so sorry! What did they do to you? God . . .’
‘Y-you shouldn’t touch me,’ Agnes managed moan through her sobs. ‘I’m . . . I’m dirty! Y-you’ll get dirty, too!’
Maddie shook her head. ‘Stop worrying about me. Tell me what happened.’
Agnes swallowed hard. ‘I-I wet the bed this morning . . . Th-they g-gave me more water, I . . .’ Agnes sniffed, trying to regain control of her voice. ‘My stomach . . . M-must have . . . Eaten something . . .’
‘Or drunk something,’ Maddie said darkly. ‘Shit . . . They must have put a laxative in your drink.’
Agnes choked back another sob and stared at her. ‘I . . . What?’
Maddie sighed. ‘I’ve heard of this happening. I mean, they’ve supplemented the water torture with high fibre diets before, but this is the first time I’ve seen . . . Man, they really have it in for you. I’m so sorry this happened to you!’ She stood. ‘Come on, get up. Take your clothes off and clean yourself up. I’ll go get you a towel and clean clothes, okay? Your panties we can just throw away.’
When Agnes was clean and changed, Maddie led her by the hand to her dorm room. Her bed had been changed in her absence, and Agnes lay down. Maddie gave her water to drink, and stroked her hair gently.
‘Everything will be okay,’ she murmured. ‘I promise, princess. Everything will be fine.’
The door opened suddenly, and there stood Mr. Portman. He only spared Agnes a glance, his attention instead focused on Maddie, who stood from Agnes’s bedside.
‘Madeline,’ he said softly. ‘I need you to come with me, please. I think you know that violence is not permitted here.’
Maddie snorted. ‘Unless it’s sanctioned by you, you mean!’ she spat.
‘Please, don’t make this any worse for yourself,’ said Mr. Portman with his kindly smile. ‘Now come with me.’
Maddie looked down at Agnes, a sad smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. ‘I gotta go, baby girl,’ she murmured. ‘See you later.’ Then she left the room behind Mr. Portman, and Agnes was left alone. She didn’t see Maddie for the rest of the day, nor did she see her in the mess the following morning. For once, she ate her breakfast. Afterwards she ran to the restroom and vomited, but there was no water torture that day. |
Next chapter already?? I must be insane! Seriously, though, don't get used to such frequent updates, I'm usually pretty slow. :P
Additional chapter tags: corporal punishment
—————
CHAPTER FOUR
Agnes didn’t dare ask anyone where Maddie had gone. Doing so felt like it would be a death sentence. When Maddie didn’t show up to their classes or anything that day either, Agnes was left with a cold, sick feeling of dread for the entire day. The bruise on Mary-Louise’s face made her feel both better and worse—better because she felt like the blonde had finally gotten a taste of her own medicine, but worse because she didn’t think Mr. Portman would be especially forgiving of Maddie for marring the face of his star pupil.
With her bathroom privileges restored, Agnes found herself going whenever she had the opportunity, whether she really needed to or not. There was something comforting about being able to just go and sit on the toilet, even if nothing came out. And while she was no longer made to drink water at regular intervals, she felt thirsty a lot and drank more frequently than usual, of her own volition, so she needed the bathroom a lot too.
She couldn’t help but think about the dream she’d had the morning before, when she had wet the bed. When she had peed her pants in the dream, it had felt so good. It had been near erotic, and perhaps that was because the dream had also been about kissing Maddie, but a voice in her head told her that wasn’t quite it. She knew that peeing when she was fit to burst was an amazing feeling, but that wetting herself would be part of that . . . ?
Agnes shook the thought from her head, trying to focus on Miss Corrine’s lesson. She was reading from Leviticus, listing sins and abominations. Agnes was fairly certain that wanting to kiss another girl counted as both.
When class was over, Agnes went to the bathroom for what must have been the tenth time that day. She sat down in one of the stalls, peed a little bit, and was about to get up when the door from the hall opened and several girls walked in. She recognised Mary-Louise’s sweet, lilting alto at once, and stayed put.
‘—Still in solitary,’ Mary-Louise was saying. ‘Serves her right, too; her and the devil inside her.’
‘I hope Mr. Portman beat her black and blue,’ said one of Mary-Louise’s friends darkly. ‘Nothin’ more than she deserves, you ask me!’
‘Now, Amy,’ said Mary-Louise sweetly, ‘there’s no need for that. We should love our enemies, after all. Even if they are evil, useless tramps.’
The others laughed. Agnes felt her face flush with anger and her hands ball into fists. She stood from the toilet and pulled her panties back up. Then she pushed the door open, a little harder than necessary, and stalked to the sink. The others fell silent and stared at her.
She could feel their eyes on her while she washed her hands, resolutely not looking at any of them.
‘You look dreadful, darling,’ said Mary-Louise after a moment. ‘I notice you’ve been going to the restroom a lot, now that you can. Been . . . purging the devil?’
Agnes switched off the tap and dried her hands with a paper towel before turning to her. ‘You know, I do wonder,’ she said softly, ‘where you’re gonna get your daily dose of sadism now that I’m behaving myself and following the rules.’
Mary-Louise smiled. ‘Oh, you’ll slip up again eventually, sweetie. Bet you’re missing your friend, huh? I’m sure once she’s back she’ll lead you right into temptation again in no time.’
Agnes rolled her eyes and headed for the door. ‘You’d like that, wouldn’t you? To see me punished some more?’
‘No, Agnes,’ said Mary-Louise in her kindest, most sympathetic tone, ‘I want to see you saved.’
—————
Agnes was sitting in the common room later that afternoon, reading the least ridiculous book in the bookshelf (a collection of short stories with religious morals, the silliness of which was at least mildly entertaining) when a group of girls entered, talking in hushed tones.
‘Anyway, she just went straight to bed. I left the moment I saw her, just hate being alone with her.’
‘I feel so sorry for you, having to share a dorm with her. She really is the worst . . . And now that she’s gotten violent? I don’t know if I could stand it!’
Agnes closed her book as discreetly as she could manage and put it back on the shelf before exiting the common room and heading down the hall towards the dorms. She was pretty sure she knew who the girls had been talking about. She didn’t know which dorm Maddie was in, so she opened the doors to a couple of them (they were empty) before she found the right one. The bed furthest from the door was occupied, and Agnes could see flaming red curls on the pillow. She approached cautiously.
‘Maddie?’ she said softly once she was a few feet away.
The figure in the bed stirred, and then Maddie turned her head slightly to look at her. She looked pale and exhausted, her eyes red and her hair a complete mess. Agnes approached the rest of the way and kneeled by the bed.
‘Are you okay? What happened to you?’
Maddie smiled weakly. ‘Hey, baby girl,’ she said. ‘I’m fine. Just tired . . . Hard to sleep in solitary.’
‘Is that where you went yesterday?’ Agnes asked, reaching out to pluck a strand of red hair away from Maddie’s brow.
‘Eventually,’ came the reply. ‘Portman had a lecture for me, and then a few lashes, and then he put me in one of the Rooms. God, I hate the Rooms . . .’
Agnes frowned. ‘Why? What are they?’
Maddie shuddered. ‘They’re these bare cells, almost. No beds, no toilets, no nothin’. I . . . I don’t really like thinking about it. Just pray they never put you in there.’
‘How long were you in there for?’ asked Agnes, shaking her head in disbelief.
‘From he finished with me yesterday until about half an hour ago, I guess.’
Agnes touched Maddie’s cheek with the back of her hand. ‘Well, I’m glad you’re back. I was worried. No one told me anything and I was too scared to ask . . .’ She trailed off. ‘I’m sorry. It’s my fault they put you in there. You . . . You saved me.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ said Maddie, sitting up. ‘It really isn’t. I couldn’t just watch ’em punish you like that, it was my choice to intervene.’ She looked away, biting her lip. ‘Anyway, you should probably go. You shouldn’t hang out with me.’
Agnes frowned. ‘Do you want me to leave?’
Maddie turned her eyes back on her, quickly. ’It would be best—’
‘Not what I asked,’ Agnes interrupted. ‘Do you want me to leave?
There was a pause, during which they stared at each other. Agnes studied Maddie’s expression, tried to make out what she was thinking, but the other girl wasn’t giving her many clues. Finally, Maddie sighed.
‘No, of course not,’ she said softly. ‘But I don’t want you to get hurt neither. You should just forget about me, and do what they tell you. Get out of here as quickly as you can and get back to your friends and family back home, and just forget about me. Me . . . I’m probably never leavin’. I’m physically incapable of behavin’. I was just born with a smart mouth, I guess . . .’
Agnes raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, I’m not going anywhere. You’re the only friend I’ve got right now, and we need to stick together. I’m not ending up like Mary-Louise and her clique. That will never, ever be me, and I will certainly never forget about you.’
Maddie smiled a slow smile that seemed to start in the corners of her eyes and then grow until it covered her entire face. ‘It’s not the smart thing to do, baby girl. But thank you.’
Agnes took her hand and squeezed it. ‘I don’t know what I’d do without you. I was so scared, not knowing where you’d gone!’
‘Well, I’m here now,’ said Maddie and squeezed back. ‘I’m sorry I had you worried, beautiful.’
The endearment caused Agnes to blush. When Maddie spoke to her like that, referred to her with pet names, called her baby girl, it filled Agnes with such an overwhelming warmth and made her feel such affection for her. And when she gave her that wonderful smile, it made Agnes want to kiss her more than ever.
—————
For the next couple of weeks, Agnes managed to behave herself fairly well. Now that she was off Mr. Portman’s shit list, her days at Mary Magdalen’s were mostly just dull rather than torturous. She no longer had Mary-Louise breathing down her neck at every second of every day, and the other girls mostly left her alone. Some treated her with outright suspicion due to her friendship with Maddie, but so far there had been no real consequences. She emptied her plate at every meal, and though she did vomit her breakfast back up more days than not, no one seemed to have realised, or they simply didn’t care.
Maddie had been put on the water torture, however, and one of her dorm mates, Ellie, had been tasked with making sure she drank her water and avoided the restrooms. Agnes watched her fidget through classes and quiet meditation, and kept her company when they had free time, distracting her with conversation as best she could. It made her ache to see how hard it was for Maddie, but Maddie at least made no secret of her desperation, grabbing herself and whimpering whenever she felt the need to, entirely indiscrete.
They were in quiet meditation in the chapel one afternoon when Agnes glanced over at Maddie to see her bent double, rocking back and forth with a hand between her legs. Agnes was about to look away when Maddie turned her face towards her, and Agnes froze.
Maddie’s cheeks were pink, and she was worrying at her lower lip with her teeth. Her back was heaving with every breath, and it would have looked as if she simply needed to pee really badly, if Agnes hadn’t noticed the look in her lidded eyes, or the minute movements of her hand.
She shouldn’t have been surprised. After all, it was Maddie who had shown her how she did this in order to help her hold, but realising that she was actually doing it, right here, right now, in the middle of chapel, made Agnes blush scarlet. Maddie noticed her looking and locked eyes with her at once. She gave a small, secret smile, and Agnes was unable to look away as the speed of her rocking increased, and her mouth fell open. Then, all at once, Maddie shut her eyes tightly, bit her lip again, and her movements stilled. She shuddered once, twice, and then her shoulders seemed to relax and she rested her sweaty forehead on the pew in front.
Agnes finally tore away her gaze. The warm, squirming feeling had returned to her lower abdomen and groin, and shifting in her seat she noticed that her panties were slightly damp. That was by far the hottest thing Agnes had ever seen, and as soon as meditation ended she ran to the bathroom. After she had peed, she reached between her legs and, biting the inside of her cheek to keep quiet, got herself off. After watching Maddie’s display it only took a few moments, she was so close already.
Afterwards she sat on the toilet panting for a little while, feeling ashamed. Masturbating together in that maintenance closet had been one thing, but getting so turned on watching Maddie . . . Agnes worried that if Maddie knew what she was thinking, how she felt, she would think Agnes was a freak. She was now forced to, once and for all, admit to herself that her feelings for Maddie were far from innocent. What had started as admiration and appreciation for the girl who always spoke her mind and was so kind to her had now definitely turned into a full blown crush. She couldn’t let Maddie know, couldn’t let it show. If she did, she might lose her forever.
—————
To Agnes’s knowledge, it started on a Thursday. That was the first time she went to sleep in her own bed and woke up somewhere different. In this particular instance, it was the shower room. There she had squatted over the drain, and when she came to she was peeing in her panties. As soon as she realised what she was doing she blushed, looking around, but everything appeared to be dark and deserted. She tried to stop peeing, but it was already coming out quite forcefully, so she remained as she was until she had emptied her bladder completely. Then she stood, grimacing as she realised her panties were soaked through.
She took them off, rinsed them as best she could, and when she returned to the dorm, hid them under her bed until they had dried the following morning. She had never sleepwalked before, but she was fairly certain that it would be considered a sign of demonic possession if anyone found out, and for the first time since she was a little girl she prayed and meant it. She prayed to whichever deity was out there that this would not happen again, and that no one would catch her at it.
The following afternoon she confided in Maddie, however. They were sitting in the shade under the beech tree in the yard. Maddie listened to her speak, nodding her head when appropriate and finally said, ‘Yeah, you probably shouldn’t tell anyone else about that.’
‘I know. It’s really scary, though. I’ve never sleepwalked before, as far as I know.’ She had left out the bit about peeing in the shower room from her story. She felt like Maddie didn’t need to know about that.
‘Me neither,’ said Maddie. ‘I’m sure it’ll be okay, though. It might not even happen again.’
‘Here’s hoping,’ said Agnes with a shrug.
Maddie opened her mouth to speak, but instead suddenly groaned and grabbed her abdomen.
‘You okay?’ asked Agnes quickly.
Maddie swore under her breath. ‘I’m fine. Cramp. I think I’ll be getting my period today. I’d hoped I’d have longer until my next one . . .’ She glanced at Agnes. ‘You have yours yet?’
‘Yeah, but it’s super irregular,’ said Agnes. ‘Why?’
Maddie sighed. ‘Because when we're on our periods they confine us.’
Agnes frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, we’re unclean, see? So as soon as you start bleedin’, they take you away from the others and put you in the Fifth House.’ She pointed to the last and smallest building on the compound, the one that Agnes hadn’t visited yet.
The main building held the mess, Portman’s office, staff quarters and visitor’s area, where Agnes had been inducted on her first day. Then there was the school building with the classrooms, the dorm building with the dorms and common rooms, and the chapel. Agnes had never paid the last building any mind.
‘It’s where the Rooms are,’ Maddie explained, ‘and the infirmary, but also the period dorm. Whomever’s on their period gets sent there, and you’re confined to that dorm, and the bathrooms and showers connected to it, until your period’s over. You still have to go to classes, but you can’t eat in the mess, and you’re not allowed in the chapel or the regular dorm building. It sucks.’
‘You mean we won’t be able to hang out until you get back?’ Agnes asked, and she was unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
‘Fraid so,’ said Maddie with a sad smile. Then she winced and groaned again, and suddenly she went rigid and her eyes went wide.
‘What’s wrong?’ asked Agnes quickly.
‘Oh no!’ Maddie whispered. ‘I was just gonna ease the pressure and let out a little bit and then the cramp came . . .’
Agnes furrowed her brow, and then understanding dawned on her and she gasped as she heard the faint hiss.
‘Shit, shit, shit!’ Maddie sounded frantic. ‘I can’t stop, it just keeps coming! Fuck!’
They sat there, still, and Agnes noticed the dry dirt and grass underneath Maddie darken in colour, saw the wet stain spreading over Maddie’s dress. She looked around, but no one was watching them and Maddie’s keeper, Ellie, was nowhere to be seen.
After what must have been over a minute, Maddie’s shoulders slumped. She looked miserable.
‘Great,’ she mumbled. ‘Just what I need. Period and punishment in one go . . .’
‘No one’s noticed yet,’ said Agnes quickly and stood up. ‘Come on, we’ll go to your dorm and get you changed, and maybe no one will see us.’ She stretched out her hand to Maddie. ‘Come on, it’s your best shot!’
Maddie only hesitated for a moment, and then she nodded and took the proffered hand. Agnes pulled her to her feet, and they hurried towards the dorm building. They had almost reached Maddie’s dorm room, and safety, when someone cleared their throat behind them and they froze.
‘Well, well,’ said a sweet voice, ‘looks like someone’s had a little accident.’
They both turned around to find Mary-Louise standing there, arms crossed, smirking at them.
‘And, you were helping her, weren’t you Agnes?’ Mary-Louise tutted. ‘And here we thought you’d decided to be a good girl. Guess the devil’s still in you, isn’t he?’ She sighed theatrically and uncrossed her arms. ‘You’d both better come with me to see Mr. Portman.’
‘As if!’ said Agnes, uncertain where this new streak of bravery was coming from. ‘Why should we do anything you tell us to?’
‘You’d do well not to speak to me like that,’ said Mary-Louise softly. ‘You do not want me as your enemy.’
Maddie squeezed Agnes’s hand. ‘Drop it,’ she muttered. ‘She’s not worth it.’
And so they marched down the corridor after Mary-Louise, out into the yard and across it to the main building. Mary-Louise knocked on Mr. Portman’s door, and Agnes felt the familiar sting of dread.
‘Come in!’ said Mr. Portman, and they all three walked inside his office. ‘What’s this, then?’ he asked upon their entry. Then he looked at Maddie’s stained dress and smiled. ‘Ah. I see.’
‘Agnes was trying to help her cover it up,’ said Mary-Louise smugly.
‘Yes, I understand,’ said Mr. Portman, standing up. ‘Mary-Louise, please go find Ellie for me. Agnes, wait outside. I’ll deal with Madeline first.’
Standing outside Mr. Portman’s door while Maddie was inside was the worst punishment Agnes had experienced yet. She couldn’t hear what he said to her, but she could hear Maddie’s sobs and cries, and the sound of Mr. Portman’s belt hitting flesh. Agnes wanted to wrench the door open and run inside, stop him from hurting her. Instead she clenched her fists hard enough for her nails to make little sickle marks in her palm, and with every cry from Maddie, Agnes released a sob of her own.
After some moments, Mary-Louise returned with Ellie, a pretty, dark-haired sixteen-year-old. Agnes had seen her look haughty, happy and serene. Now she looked scared, eyes wide. Clearly her lack of oversight had disappointed Mr. Portman, and Agnes felt a stab of pity for her. It seemed that Mr. Portman punished his attack dogs just the same as everyone else.
When the door finally opened, Mr. Portman came out and said, ‘Mary-Louise, please take Madeline to the Fifth House. Ellie, my office. You,’ he said, eyes on Agnes, ‘stay here.’
Maddie came shuffling out of the office as Ellie went inside. She was limping slightly, and her face was tear streaked. Before she could stop herself, Agnes blurted, ‘Are you okay?’
Maddie’s smile was more of a grimace. ‘Been through worse, baby girl.’
‘No talking, you two,’ said Mary-Louise and grabbed Maddie by the elbow. ‘You come with me.’ They walked away, and once again Agnes was left alone.
Whatever Mr. Portman was doing to Ellie, it was quieter than what he had done to Maddie, because there were no cries of pain. When the door opened again and Ellie stepped out, however, she looked just as freaked out as she had going in, and her face was decidedly wet with tears.
‘Agnes,’ said Mr. Portman quietly, ‘your turn.’
Agnes walked inside the office, shutting the door behind her.
‘It seems you’ve been lying to us,’ Mr. Portman said conversationally, looking up at her from his desk. ‘You’ve been behaving yourself and making us think you’re a good girl, when really you’re not, are you? If you were a good girl, you would never have tried to help Madeline break the rules. That’s not a thing good girls do. Only bad girls do that.’ He stood. ‘Pull up your dress and pull your panties down. Then bend over and place your hands on the desk.’
Agnes felt her stomach tighten in dread, but did as she was told, blushing with humiliation as she exposed her rear. Then Mr. Portman was there with his belt again, striking hard, and Agnes sobbed.
‘A godly woman is obedient,’ he said, striking her again. ‘She does what she’s told, and is mindful of the things her betters tell her.’ The belt came down hard once more, and Agnes cried out. ‘Lying, hiding, cheating, these things are not permitted here. You ought to know this by now.’
When he had finished, Agnes was permitted to pull her panties back up and let her dress down.
‘It’s your first offence of this kind,’ said Mr. Portman calmly, placing his belt down on his desk. ‘Misguided kindness is an easy trap to fall into. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, after all. I’m revoking your bathroom privileges for two days, and expect you to drink a glass of water per hour, as before. That will do as far as punishments for now, but the next time you flaunt the rules, you will be made an example of.’ He sat down at his desk again and, without looking at Agnes, said, ‘You’re dismissed.’ |
Sorry it's taken so long, and that it's so short. I haven't been feeling terribly inspired lately. Hope you like it anyway! This one's got sexual content and corporal punishment.
—————
CHAPTER FIVE
Finally, Maddie was kissing her, her soft lips and velvety tongue enveloping Agnes’s, making her feel hot and cold. Her hands were roaming over Agnes’s body, brushing her nipples through her dress, and Agnes moaned. Agnes was sitting in her lap, back to Maddie’s front, Maddie’s arms around her, and Maddie pressed her lips to Agnes’s neck, just below her ear.
Agnes squirmed in Maddie’s arms. ‘I need to pee,’ she gasped.
‘I know, sweetie. I can help you hold it.’
Maddie pulled up the skirt of Agnes’s dress, slipped her hand inside her panties, and Agnes threw her head back against her shoulder with a groan. Maddie’s fingers worked her, opened her up, made her feel things she had never felt before, and before she knew it she was coming so hard. But she still had to pee.
‘It’s okay,’ Maddie whispered, still touching her, and her other hand moved to Agnes’s abdomen, coming to rest over her swollen bladder, and pressed down. ‘You’ve been so good, baby girl. You can relax now. You can pee.’
So Agnes did. She voided her bladder, urine staining her panties and dress, and Maddie’s, too. And as Maddie’s fingers continued to tease her, she came again and again, until she was a shivering wreck.
‘Wake up, Agnes. Wake up!’
Agnes opened her eyes, just as her orgasm shook her and she whimpered loudly. She had her hand between her legs, inside her panties, and her bed was soaked. She blinked, the room swimming into focus, and her heart sank to somewhere near her liver.
The windows were dark, but the ceiling lights were lit. Two figures were looking down on her, their faces shrouded in shadow, but she knew them at once. One was Mary-Louise. The other was Mr. Portman.
Agnes pulled her hand out of her wet panties. The hand shook, and she tried to get control of her breathing. She felt cold, terrified. Something bad was about to happen to her. Something terrible.
‘Ah. You’re back with us,’ said Mr. Portman’s calm voice. ‘Get up, please.’
Agnes did as she was told, shaking all the while with fear and humiliation. Her eyes teared up, making the room around her blurry again, and she released a great sob.
‘Mary-Louise, please take the sheets and mattress off Agnes’s bed. Then you can let the other girls back in. You should all try to go back to sleep.’
‘Yes sir,’ said Mary-Louise with a curtsy.
‘Agnes, come with me.’
She followed him, barefoot and still in her wet night clothes, down the corridor towards the exit, across the grounds and towards that last building, the Fifth House. Mr. Portman took out a heavy set of keys and unlocked the front door. He led her down a dimly lit corridor before stopping in front of a metal door, which he unlocked with another key. He gestured for Agnes to enter, and she did.
She found herself in a bare, concrete cell. In one corner lay a ratty looking blanket. High on the wall was a single, tiny barred window, and on the wall below it hung a metal cross. A bare bulb hung in the ceiling, illuminating the space with a dim, yellow light. Other than that, the room was empty. The concrete floor was stained, and though the cell had clearly been cleaned quite recently, underneath the sterile, soapy smell, there was an odour of fear and piss.
Mr. Portman stepped inside behind her and closed the door. ‘This is one of the Rooms. They are the school’s solitary confinement units.’
Agnes nodded. She knew what this was. Knew it from Maddie’s description. She shuddered.
‘Now, as to why you’re here. Tonight, you woke up your dorm mates. You were mumbling and moaning in your sleep, apparently speaking in tongues again. You had kicked off your covers and wet the bed, and you were touching yourself. Mary-Louise attempted to rouse you, but to no avail. So, she ushered the others out of the room and went to get me. We were finally able to wake you.’
Agnes looked at her feet, face burning with embarrassment and shame. Mr. Portman grabbed her chin and forced her face up to look at him.
‘This is very serious, Agnes. The devil is in you, making you do things that are unnatural. He comes to you in your sleep, possessing your body. We have to drive him out.’ He let go of her chin and took a step back. ‘There is no such thing as female sexual pleasure, Agnes. If you’re enjoying it, that means it’s evil. It means that you have let the devil in. This is why masturbation is dangerous. And this is why I have to punish you. I have to make your body uninhabitable to the devil, and the only way to do that is with pain.’
A sob she didn’t know she’d been holding in wracked Agnes’s body, and she covered her face with her hands. ‘Please,’ she whimpered. ‘P-please, don’t! It . . . It was just a dream . . .’
‘What did you dream, Agnes?’ asked Mr. Portman quietly. ‘Tell me what you dreamed.’
Agnes shook her head, her heart hammering in her chest. ‘I-I don’t remember!’ she lied.
‘Lying to me won’t make things any better for you,’ Mr. Portman admonished.
‘I’m . . . I’m not,’ Agnes whispered, wiping her tears with the back of her hand and looked resolutely down on the floor. ‘I really don’t remember!’
Mr. Portman sighed. ‘So be it. Turn around, hands on the wall, and drop your panties.’
Having this happen again so soon momentarily overshadowed the horror of the prospect of being left in the Room after it was over. Agnes’s tears began to fall again. ‘Please, don’t . . .’ she whispered again, but she turned around all the same, walked the two steps over to the wall, pulled down her panties and splayed both hands on the wall. She gritted her teeth as she heard Mr. Portman remove his belt. Heard his footsteps on the floor. Smelled his aftershave. Then the belt came down on her bottom, and she whimpered.
He didn’t speak this time. Didn’t keep reminding her why he was doing this, didn’t tell her how he was right to do it. That somehow made it more chilling, more frightening. He just stuck her, silently, again and again, the only sounds the smack of leather on flesh, and Agnes’s sobs and whimpers echoing off the cold concrete walls. Finally, after what felt like forever, he stopped. He didn’t tell her that she could stand straight or pull her panties back on, so Agnes stayed as she was while he put his belt back on.
Finally, he said, ‘That’s enough for now. You are confined here until I deem it right to let you out. While you are here, you will see no one and no one will speak to you. Someone will bring you food. It will be pushed in through the hatch at the bottom of the door. When you are finished, you will replace the tray by the hatch so that it can be retrieved.’
Slowly, Agnes reached down to pull her panties back up, before turning around again to face him. She glanced around the room, and Maddie’s words echoed in her head. No toilet. No nothing.
‘Will I get a change of clothes?’ she asked at last, surprising herself with how steady her voice was, thought her throat felt sore after all her crying.
‘You will not. Once you are let out, you can shower and go to bed. While you are confined, you have only the things that are in this room. How you choose to handle other needs, is up to you.’ Mr. Portman reached out and cupped her cheek. She had to fight the urge to flinch away from his touch. ‘We are driving out the devil. Pain, discomfort, humiliation. That’s how we drive him out. Your soul will be stronger for it.’
Then he turned his back on her and left the room, closing and locking the door behind him. With a click, the light in the ceiling went out, plunging the cell into near total darkness. A sliver of light leaked in through the window, just enough for Agnes to locate the corner with the blanket. She didn’t try to lie down. Instead she pulled the blanket around her shoulders and sat down on the floor with her back to the wall, and waited for dawn.
—————
It was, she mused, rather lucky that she’d peed herself as violently as she had. It meant that her bladder was empty, and that she wouldn’t need to use the bathroom for a while. She had no idea how long she would be in there, though, and she was sure she’d need to pee again before her confinement ended. Judging by the smell, and the stains on the floor, this room had been urinated in many, many times before.
Finding sleep was difficult on the hard concrete floor, but she managed to snooze on and off until daylight began to seep in through the window high on the wall. She felt exhausted, and miserable, and her damp night clothes clung to her skin. She wondered what time it was, how long she’d been in there.
A while later, when the sun was high enough that its rays hit the wall opposite the window, Agnes heard movement and voices outside in the hall. After a moment, the hatch at the bottom of the door was pulled open and a tray was pushed inside.
‘Who’s in there?’ said a voice Agnes instantly recognised. It was Maddie. The girls on their periods must be on their way to their classes.
Agnes wanted to shout, ‘It’s me! I’m here!’ But she didn’t dare.
‘How should I know?’ another voice said. ‘I was just told to bring food.’ Then the hatch slammed shut, muffling the voices.
Agnes glanced at the tray. It contained a bowl of porridge and a glass of water. The idea of drinking that water, of filling her body with liquid it would later have to expel, was not especially appealing, but she supposed dehydration wasn’t much better, so in the end she drank the water in slow sips, though she couldn’t bring herself to eat the porridge. What were they going to do, punish her for it?
Some hours later, and it must have gone noon because the sun had risen too high to shine into her cell, she heard footsteps outside again. There was the muffled sound of voices, and then the footsteps seemed to move away from her again. A few seconds later, the hatch was opened.
‘Agnes? Is that you in there?’
Agnes had never been so glad to hear another human voice. After the hours of isolation, she wouldn’t have cared who it was, but it was Maddie, and that made her heart swell.
‘Yes!’ she said, scooting closer to the door. ‘Yes, it’s me!’
‘I knew it,’ said Maddie. ‘What happened? Why are you in there? I thought they let you off the hook for covering for me . . .’
‘I had an accident,’ Agnes told her miserably. ‘Last night, I wet the bed, and . . .’ She didn’t want to finish, didn’t want anyone else to know the full extent of what had happened. Her face burned with embarrassment.
‘They don’t put you in solitary for just wetting the bed,’ said Maddie, and Agnes thought she could hear her frown. ‘What happened, Agnes? You can tell me, whatever it is.’
Agnes hesitated for a moment. Then she let out a shaky breath. ‘I was having a dream. About . . . About touching myself. In the dream I wet myself, and when I woke up I had wet the bed and I was . . . I was really touching myself. Mary-Louise had tried to wake me, but couldn’t, so she went and got Mr. Portman. They saw the whole thing.’
There was silence for a while before Maddie spoke. ‘Oh. Oh, wow. Honey, I’m so sorry.’
A freckled hand appeared through the hatch, and Agnes instinctively took it. Maddie’s touch was warm and gentle, and Agnes released a sob she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.
‘Oh, baby girl,’ said Maddie, squeezing her hand, ‘it’s gonna be okay, I promise! Everything will be okay. Don’t cry. When we’re both out of here, I’ll give you a big hug, okay?’
Agnes nodded, realised that Maddie couldn’t see her, and said, ‘Yeah. Thank you.’
‘No problem, sweetie.’
‘You should probably go. You’ll get in trouble if they find you here.’
‘I don’t really care.’
‘Well, I do. I don’t want you to get in any more trouble.’
Maddie chuckled softly. ‘Hey, trouble’s my middle name. Nothing either of us can do about that.’ She gave Agnes’s hand another squeeze and then let go. ‘See you soon, okay?’
‘Yeah. Take care!’
‘You’ll be out of there in no time, baby girl. Promise.’ Then she shut the hatch, and Agnes could hear her footsteps retreating.
Agnes scooted back to her corner, pulling the blanket tighter around her. She needed to pee again. She’d been needing to for a while now. She supposed she could just go squat in the corner. Then she realised that she was by herself, and that she had already peed her panties once today. Feeling inexplicably embarrassed, she pulled the ends of the blanket off the floor to keep it dry, and, letting out a breath, let go.
She shivered as her urine escaped her, soaking her mostly dried panties again. The warmth of it was somehow comforting. It calmed her, and presently she dozed off once more. |
To apologise for how long it's taken to get it up, chapter 6 is over 4000 words long, and the total length of the story so far is pushing 22k! I think I'll actually be able to reach my goal of making this novel length... So, here we are. Regular warnings apply, there's corporal punishment, etc. Also, menstruation, for which I have no intention of apologising. Enjoy!
—————
CHAPTER SIX
Agnes was let out that evening. Mr. Portman sent Mary-Louise to release her after evening prayer. She marched Agnes through the compound to the dorm building. Agnes blessed the darkness as she walked in silence, refusing to even look at her Big Sister. She stank of stale urine, but was too exhausted to really care.
‘You can go shower,’ said Mary-Louise when they reached the dorm room. ‘I’m sure we’d all prefer it if you did. Your bathroom privileges are revoked for the next week, and Mr. Portman wants you to come straight to his office after classes tomorrow afternoon. Also, our dorm’s on kitchen duty this week, so we’re excused from morning prayer.’
Agnes nodded. She walked wordlessly to her dresser and pulled out fresh underthings and a towel, before shuffling off to the showers.
Showering had never felt so wonderful. She stood under the warm spray for a long time, letting the stink wash off her tired body. Then she went to bed, too exhausted to even contemplate doing anything else, and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.
The following morning she was shaken awake by Mary-Louise at six. Agnes felt like she had just gone to bed, like she hadn’t slept at all, but somehow managed to get out of bed anyway, following the rest of the dorm to the kitchen where they were given aprons and hairnets, and set to preparing breakfast. It wasn’t so bad, really. It felt good to do something practical, something tactile, rather than sitting half asleep in the chapel.
‘Whose turn is it to bring breakfast to the Fifth House?’ asked Mary-Louise, placing some half-baked bread in the oven.
‘Make Agnes do it,’ said Anette, shrugging.
Mary-Louise shook her head. ‘No way. Madeline is there.’ She pointed to Sarah, one of the girls who had arrived at the same time as Agnes. ‘You go. There are plastic gloves for you to wear in the drawer over there. Take a tray and lay out four portions, then take it to the Fifth House. Don’t touch any of the confined. They’re dirty.’
Agnes pretended she hadn’t heard. Mary-Louise’s matter-of-fact tone frightened her. How could she so callously refer to the girls on their periods as dirty? It wasn’t their fault. Agnes had only had her period three times in her life yet, and her cycle wasn’t even close to regular. Her last had ended just before she was sent off to Mary Magdalene’s. She found herself wondering how long it would be before she got it again and would have to be confined in the Fifth House.
Having eaten so sporadically the day before, Agnes had imagined that she would be hungry this morning, but that wasn’t the case. Rather, it was as though her stomach had shrunk, and the idea of food was deeply unappealing. However, being on kitchen duty, she dished out her own portion, and gave herself little enough that she managed to eat it and keep it down.
Agnes was set back on the water torture after breakfast, but was permitted to use the restroom before going to prepare lunch, getting out of classes an hour earlier than usual for the purpose. She’d heard other girls grumble about kitchen duty, but to her it felt like a holiday, for both her mind and her body.
As the afternoon dragged on, however, she was reminded that she was to report to Mr. Portman’s office after classes. She didn’t know what he wanted from her, but she was fairly certain it couldn’t be good. More than ever she wished that she could talk to Maddie. They saw each other during classes, and shared smiles and waves, but the confined girls were seated separately from the others, and they had no opportunity to speak. Agnes would have done anything for a few words of comfort right then.
At five she made her way to Mr. Portman’s office. She hesitated outside the door, shifting her weight from one foot to another. It wasn’t as bad as it had been before, as the tips Maddie had given her had paid off, and she had had to stay behind after lunch to clean the kitchen and thus had visited the restroom a mere two and a half hours earlier, but her bladder still felt unpleasantly full. Raising her hand, she knocked twice.
‘Come in,’ said Mr. Portman’s voice, and Maddie pushed the door open and walked inside the office.
He sat behind his desk, seemingly going over some paperwork, but looked up when Agnes entered, smiling.
‘Ah, Agnes! How are you today?’
Agnes shrugged warily. ‘Fine.’
He smiled wider. ‘Well, that won’t do, will it?’ He stood, turning to face the book shelf. ‘Please, go stand over there.’ He gestured to a spot to the left of the desk. ‘And take off your dress and your shoes.’
Agnes blinked, but she knew better by now than to question, so she did as she was told.
The floor was different here, she realised as she took off her baby pink mary-janes. It looked the same, but instead of the grey linoleum of everywhere else in the compound, the floor here had a plasticky, almost slippery feel to it, and it dipped down slightly, like a very shallow basin, almost unnoticeable unless you were standing in the middle of it. She held her folded up dress and shoes in her hands, waiting for further instructions.
Mr. Portman turned to face her, glass of water in his hand and smile still on his face. He walked over, taking in her pink camisole and white panties with a nod, and, taking her dress and shoes from her, handed her the glass of water.
‘Drink,’ he instructed, laying the clothes on the edge of his desk. Agnes did as she was told, and he took the glass from her and replaced it next to the water jug in the bookshelf. Then he sat at his desk and returned to his paperwork.
Agnes shifted nervously. This was somehow more unnerving than anything he had put her through yet, being made to just stand like this, but she didn’t ask any questions. She was sure it would not be allowed. So she stood, fidgeting ever so slightly, waiting.
About ten minutes later, Portman stood again and poured her another glass of water, made her drink, and sat back down. Another ten minutes or so passed, and he did it again. Standing still was starting to get difficult, and Agnes felt her bladder grow heavy. She wanted badly to grab herself, do something to ease the pressure, but she felt very uncomfortable doing so while standing here in Portman’s office, so instead she shifted restlessly.
After the fourth glass of water, her legs began to shake, and she swayed from side to side. Finally, Mr. Portman looked up from his work, frowning.
‘Stand still,’ he ordered, and Agnes took a deep breath, halting her movement for a moment. It didn’t last though, and soon she was fidgeting again. ‘I said, stand still,’ Portman repeated. ‘I don’t like having to repeat myself.’
‘Sorry, sir,’ Agnes mumbled. She stood still, and felt a drop of urine leak out into her panties. She held her breath, tried to calm herself, tried to keep from moving. A few minutes passed, and she leaked again. Without thinking, she grabbed her crotch.
Mr. Portman appeared to have seen the sudden movement from the corner of his eye, because he looked up at her. ‘No,’ he said softly. ‘That is not permitted.’
‘But,’ said Agnes before she could stop herself, ‘it’s so hard to—’
‘Don’t question me,’ said Portman conversationally. ‘Your job right now is to do exactly as I tell you, and not ask questions. I have told you to stand still. I expect you to do so.’
Agnes’s mouth opened and closed a few times. Then she nodded.
‘Good girl.’ It sounded like something one might say to an obedient dog, and it made Agnes feel slightly sick.
The next few minutes were agony. Agnes tried to keep as still as she could, but every so often a drop would escape her, and it became harder and harder not to grab herself or move about. When the first bigger spurt came, and she felt a drop trickle down her legs, her eyes grew wide with mortification and she released an involuntary sob. Mr. Portman looked up, studied her intently. He looked at his watch, stood, and poured her another glass of water.
Agnes stared at the glass in horror. Her bladder had never felt this full, she had never been so desperate to pee, and she felt like if she drank the water she would piss herself and probably vomit.
‘Drink.’ His voice was hard, his tone no longer conversational. He was not smiling. So Agnes took the glass and drained it, just as another trickle of urine began to make its way down her leg.
Wetting herself here, in Portman’s office, right in front of him, was not something she wanted to do. He gave no sign that he would relent, that he would let her go, and the next minute passed like in a dream, in slow motion. She watched Mr. Portman sit down at his desk, lift his pen and start to write. She felt the pressure in her bladder build again after her leak, felt the muscles in her legs straining to move and her hand twitching to grab herself. If he didn’t let her go now, she really would pee all over his floor.
‘Please!’ she found herself whimpering before she had time to stop herself. ‘Sir, please let me go to the bathroom, I’m gonna—’
But it was too late, and she realised as she spoke that she was already peeing, and that she couldn’t stop it. It poured down her legs, making little pitter patter noises on the floor. Her face flushed deep scarlet and she sobbed, burying her face in her hands as he watched her void her bladder. He was calm, impassive, waited for her to finish. Sob after sob shook her body, until finally she stopped peeing and felt her tense body relax involuntarily.
Mr. Portman spoke softly. ‘Drop your panties and turn towards the wall.’
Without looking at him, Agnes did as she was told, her panties dropping into the puddle on the floor with a soft splash. She heard him loosen his belt.
‘Pain and humiliation,’ he said, voice still soft, yet it seemed to echo through the room. ‘You still have a devil in you, Agnes. We have to drive it out. You do see that, don’t you?’
She didn’t answer. What was the point?
‘I do this for your own good,’ said Portman. ‘I do it to save you.’ Then he struck her with the leather of his belt, and she sobbed again.
She didn’t count. Didn’t want to know how many lashes he felt her humiliation was worth. She stood passive, weeping silently, only crying out when the pain broke through her shame. Then it stopped, but she remained standing facing the wall. He hadn’t told her that she could move, after all.
She heard him open a door, and another. There was the sound of running water somewhere, which was unpleasant as she actually needed to pee again now, but still she stood, hands splayed on the wall, waiting. She heard his footsteps approach, and the door close again, and then he finally spoke.
‘Clean up the puddle, put your dress back on and go wash up before you go to the kitchen to prepare supper.’ There came the sound of a bucket being placed down on the floor and Agnes slowly straightened.
There was a mop in the bucket, and she used it to clean up the puddle, placing her sopping wet panties in a plastic bag. Portman handed her some tissue paper to dry herself off with a bit, and then she pulled her dress back on.
‘Same time tomorrow,’ said Portman. ‘Now off you go.’
Shoes in one hand and plastic bag in the other, Agnes left Mr. Portman’s office. She walked calmly down the hallway until she reached a restroom, opened the door and went inside. Locking the door behind her, she dropped to her hands and knees and vomited into the toilet.
—————
Three realisations hit Agnes when she woke in the middle of the night. The first was that she was in the shower room again. The second was that she had a sharp pain in her abdomen. And the third was that she was about to pee in her panties again.
Quicker than she thought her sleep-addled mind should have been able to react, she pulled her panties down and squatted over the drain, just as her sphincter gave way and she began to void. Then, looking down, she noticed a few flecks of red in her panties. Well, that explained the stomach cramps.
When she had finished she stood up, not even bothering to feel embarrassed, and pulled her panties back on gingerly. She turned the shower on, washing away the evidence of her sleep-walking near-accident, and returned to the dorm. The clock on the wall told her it was three in the morning.
She checked her sheets, but they had no blood on them, so she walked over to Mary-Louise’s bed and shook her awake.
The blonde opened her eyes, blinked a few times, and focused on Agnes’s face in the semi-darkness.
‘Hey,’ Agnes whispered. ‘Um . . . I got my period.’
Mary-Louise sat up with a sigh, rubbing her eyes. ‘What, just now?’ Agnes nodded. ‘Well, that’s just great. Just when we’ve got kitchen duty and everything, and we’ll be one short.’
Agnes rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, I got my period just to spite you. Could you just tell me what to do, please?’
Mary-Louise looked genuinely offended for a moment, before shrugging in an aloof manner. ‘Fine. Get your stuff and I’ll take you to the Fifth House.’ She squinted at Agnes. ‘You better not be faking just so you can hang out with that harlot.’
Agnes might have laughed at that, but she was too tired to find the near-biblical insult funny. Instead she quirked an eyebrow and said, ‘What, you wanna check my panties for blood?’
It was so worth it for the look of horror on Mary-Louise’s face. ‘Ew. No.’
Agnes was marched to the Fifth House, where Mary-Louise, who apparently had access to the keys, unlocked the door and showed her inside. They walked past the Rooms to the end of the corridor, and Mary-Louise opened the door.
In the light from the hall, Agnes could see seven beds (just like the regular dorms), four of which were occupied. On the other end of the room there was a bookshelf, a long table with seven chairs, and a worn old couch.
‘There’s a cupboard with sanitary pads and stuff in the bathroom,’ Mary-Louise whispered, gesturing to a closed door off to the left hand side of the room. ‘For reasons of hygiene, bathroom privileges are generally restored during confinement, unless otherwise specified. I’ll inform Mr. Portman in the morning. You’ll go to classes as usual, but you’re not permitted in the chapel, the mess or the dorm building. Now, pick a bed and go to sleep.’ Without waiting for Agnes’s reply, Mary-Louise turned her back and left.
Agnes went into the bathroom, found a pad in the cupboard and changed her underwear. She breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn’t had time to leak through her panties yet. Then she went back out into the dorm room, scanning the beds for a familiar hint of red curls. When she spotted them, she was glad to find that the next bed over was free, and chose it easily.
As she crawled into bed, she noticed movement next to her, and someone yawned.
‘Agnes?’ Maddie whispered, sitting up in bed. She wore a loose fitting white night gown. ‘What are you doin’ here?’
‘Got my period,’ Agnes replied with a grin. ‘Don’t think I’ve ever been so happy about bleeding before . . . But we can talk about it tomorrow. We should sleep.’
In the dark, she could just about see Maddie’s smile. She reached out and grabbed Agnes’s hand, squeezing. ‘I’m glad you’re here,’ she whispered. ‘Good night.’
Agnes returned her smile. ‘Night.’
—————
Mornings in the Fifth House turned out to be a far more relaxed affair than usual. They were supposed to spend the morning in quiet contemplation, but with no one there to watch them, and breakfast not being served until half past seven, they slept in instead, as there were no Big Sisters present to make them do otherwise.
Aside from Agnes and Maddie, there were three girls confined at present. Jean was tall and dark-haired, and about sixteen, while Caroline had mousy brown hair and a round, pink face. Laura was a small, blonde girl Agnes’s age, who had arrived at Mary Magdalene’s at the same time she had. Through conversation over breakfast, Agnes learned that she was having her first ever period. Nobody had ever explained menstruation to her before she got it, and she had been terrified when she’d woken up two nights ago to find her sheets soaked in blood. Agnes could sympathise; if her friends at school hadn’t told her about periods before she got hers, she wouldn’t have known what was happening the first time, either. Laura had been home-schooled, and so no school friends had been able to tell her anything.
In spite of stomach cramps and the discomfort of the pads (they hadn’t exactly invested in high quality feminine hygiene products), it was probably the best day Agnes had had since she arrived. She had almost had a good night’s sleep, got to eat at her own pace and as much or little as she was comfortable with, and could go to the bathroom whenever she liked. Classes were boring as hell, but they had quiet meditation that afternoon, and since they weren’t allowed in the chapel, they instead spent the afternoon outside in the dry grass, enjoying the sunshine and talking quietly.
‘How long have you been here?’ Agnes asked Jean.
‘I can answer that,’ said Maddie. ‘Four months. She arrived the day I was supposed to be sent home.’
Jean nodded. ‘Yup. And you two,’ she nodded to Agnes and Laura, ‘arrived on the day I was supposed to be sent home.’
Caroline, who had already told them that she had arrived seven weeks ago, cocked her head to one side. ‘Why weren’t you sent home?’
Maddie laughed. ‘Is that a serious question?’
‘I hadn’t become godly enough,’ said Jean. ‘So Mr. Portman called my parents and recommended they extend my stay another three months.’
‘And you?’ Caroline asked Maddie.
Maddie sighed. ‘Much the same. Except in my case, he recommended they extend my stay indefinitely.’ She shrugged. ‘Honestly, in spite of everything I don’t really mind. I don’t wanna go home, exactly, and at least my days here are predictable.’
Agnes frowned and studied Maddie’s face. She wore a wan smile that didn’t even begin to reach her eyes. ‘Why don’t you wanna go home?’
Maddie gave a derisive snort. ‘My parents are the ones who sent me here. If I never see them again it will be too soon.’ She didn’t meet Agnes’s eyes as she said it, and Agnes was reasonably sure she wasn’t being told the whole truth, but decided against pushing the subject.’
None of them asked why the others had been sent to Mary Magdalene’s in the first place. Agnes supposed it was a little like jail. The one thing one should never ask was, ‘So, what are you in for?’ Then she realised that that was one of the first things Maddie had ever asked her, and found herself wondering why.
The doors to the chapel opened, and the other girls began spilling out into the sunny afternoon. Quiet meditation had ended, which meant it must be nearly five.
Suddenly, Agnes’s heart began hammering in her chest. Was Mr. Portman still expecting her in his office? She wasn’t keen on sharing the fact of her continued punishment with the whole group, so she didn’t dare ask. Instead she stood up.
‘I’ve got a thing I need to do,’ she said at their questioning looks. ‘I’ll see you guys later.’
She hurried to Mr. Portman’s office. On the way there, she kept an eye out for Mary-Louise. If anyone would know if she was still expected it would be her, but she was nowhere to be seen. There was nothing else to do, then. She reached the door of Portman’s office and knocked.
‘Come in,’ he said, and she pushed the door open.
Portman looked up from his desk, spotted her and his expression froze. A moment later the smile he had been wearing turned to anger, and his fist clenched around his pen. ‘What are you doing here?’ he hissed.
Agnes shifted her weight nervously. ‘I . . . You said . . . You told me to—’
‘You are filthy! Steeped in sin! You shouldn’t even look upon a man in your current state! Out!’ He stood. ‘I said, get out! When you are clean again, I want you back here, and there will be a reckoning.’ He wasn’t shouting. His voice didn’t even sound all that angry, but his eyes were dark with rage, and Agnes backed out of the room and ran.
She didn’t stop running until she reached the Fifth House and stood in the corridor outside the door to their room. She took a few deep breaths and walked inside, trying to ignore her churning stomach.
Caroline and Jean were sitting at the table, chatting in hushed tones. Laura lay on her bed, her cramps clearly having worsened, clutching her stomach and looking out of it. Maddie sat in the couch, browsing through a book called Good Girls Go To Heaven; Bad Girls Burn In Hell. She looked up when she heard Agnes enter, and smiled, waving her over.
‘Man, this book is the lamest excuse for a self-help guide I’ve ever seen,’ she said. ‘It’s even worse than most of the shit in the common room. Look at this one, though.’ She put down the book and reached over to the bookshelf to pull out another one. ‘Original Sin: Of Menstruating Women’s Place in Church. Spoiler: Menstruating women have no place in a church. This thing claims that periods are God’s punishment of all women for what Eve did in the garden, and that while a girl is on her period she’s dirty and extra vulnerable to possession. According to this, men shouldn’t even be in the same room as a menstruating woman in case they’re tainted by her. Insane.’ She looked up at Agnes with a grin, but the expression faltered at the look on her face. ‘What’s up? You look kind of freaked.’
Agnes let out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding. ‘Wish I’d read that book before I went and did a really stupid thing,’ she said weakly.
‘Why? What did you do?’
‘Well, yesterday Mr. Portman called me to his office after classes, for . . . punishment.’ She felt herself blush as she said it and looked away. ‘After, he told me to come back today. I didn’t know if I was still supposed to, but I thought better safe than sorry, so . . . I went.’
Maddie looked stricken. ‘Oh, shit! Baby girl, I’m sorry, I should have . . . Did no one tell you that you have to stay as far away from him as possible while you’re confined?’ She shook her head. ‘I should have told you. I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I mean, your Big Sis should have—’ She froze, her expression changing from shocked to stormy. ‘That bitch! Mary-Louise should have told you not to do that. I’ll bet she refrained from telling you on purpose, so you’d get in trouble. That fucking—Jesus Fucking Christ, I’m gonna knock her teeth out next time I see her!’
Agnes grabbed Maddie’s hand, shaking her head. ‘It’s okay! I’ll be fine. Don’t do something that’ll get you in trouble. Please!’
Maddie sighed angrily, but her expression softened as her eyes met Agnes’s. ‘Fine. I won’t.’ She paused. ‘What kind of punishment?’
Agnes bit her lip, looking away. ‘Water torture,’ she muttered, quiet so the others wouldn’t hear. ‘Extreme edition. He made me drink water every ten minutes, then made me stand still in his office until . . . Until I had an accident in front of him. After, I got the belt.’ Her face was hot with shame, and she clenched the fist that wasn’t holding Maddie’s hand, trying to stop tears from welling forth again.
‘Oh, sweetie . . .’ Maddie squeezed her hand in both of hers. ‘I am so sorry. That’s awful.’
Agnes shook her head. ‘He’ll do it all again when I get out of here, and worse, probably, after what I just did. If I dwell on it . . .’
Maddie nodded. ‘I get it. We’ll talk about something else. Just . . . Don’t be scared, okay? For now, you’re here. It’s safe in here, a break from what lies beyond. And I’m here. As long as we’re in here, nothing all that bad can happen to us.’ She squeezed Agnes’s hand again. ‘Right?’
Agnes smiled. ‘Right.’ |
Soooo... hi. I'm the one who gave you six chapters and then disappeared for nearly 3 years. I apologise for that. My meds were kicking my ass and prevented me from writing or doing any of the creative stuff I like. But I'm off them now, and I'm writing again, and I've finished chapter seven. So, if anyone is still reading, or if any new readers are interested, here it is. Hopefully, the wait was worth it. Warnings still apply, with additional note of a nightmare including imaginary messing. This will probably be the last mention of that in the story.
CHAPTER SEVEN
He stood over her, his eyes dark and his smile terrible. The mere look of him made her want to flee, but she stood rooted to the spot, unable to run, as he advanced on her. When he spoke, it was as though an invisible force compelled her to do as he said. She was powerless, a puppet to his will.
‘Touch yourself,’ he said. She wanted to argue, to ask why he would ask her to do that when he always said it was wrong, but she couldn’t get the words out. Instead her hand moved of its own accord, in between her legs.
It didn’t feel good. It hurt, and she screamed out in agony.
‘This is what the devil is hiding from you,’ he said. ‘This is what it truly feels like. Now we have to purge the devil, through your bowels and your bladder. Go!’
It happened all at once. There was nothing she could do to stop it, her body acting of its own accord as she began to void both her bladder and her bowels. Urine and faecal matter slid and dripped down her legs and onto the floor. She tried to hold it back, tried to make it stop, but she couldn’t. It just kept coming, pouring out of her, and it was so much more of it than she thought could ever fit inside her.
‘Stop!’ she whimpered. ‘Make it stop, please!’
‘Not until the devil has left you, child! Not until you are clean!’
Agnes sat up in bed, her heart racing and her cheeks wet with tears. She sobbed pitifully. Then she covered her mouth with her hand and ran for the bathroom, feeling sick. She just made it to the toilet, dropping to her knees and vomiting up everything she had eaten for supper. She sobbed between her retching. Her eyes stung.
And then Maddie was there, brushing her hair away from her face, hand resting on her back.
‘Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, baby girl. I’m here, beautiful, I’m here.’
When it was over, Agnes sank down to the floor, utterly exhausted. Maddie flushed the toilet, dipped a towel in cold water and mopped her sweaty brow. She found her toothbrush and helped her clean the taste of bile from her mouth. Agnes noticed that the door was closed; Maddie must have closed it when she came in.
‘Come on, sweetie. Get up.’ Maddie helped her gently to her feet.
Before Agnes could stop herself she had thrown her arms around Maddie’s shoulders and was sobbing into her curls.
‘Hey . . . It’s okay, baby. You’re okay.’ Maddie stroked her hair. ‘Did you have a nightmare?’
Agnes nodded against her shoulder. ‘It was horrible,’ she whispered. ‘He . . . He made me . . .’ She shuddered and couldn’t finish.
‘It’s okay,’ said Maddie again. ‘It was just a dream, baby doll. He’s not here. As long as you’re here with me, he can’t hurt you, darling. I promise. You’re safe.’
Agnes pulled back, looking up into Maddie’s green eyes. Maddie touched her cheek gently, wiping away her tears, and smiled. Agnes licked her lips, her eyes flitting to Maddie’s mouth. Her smile looked so kind, so inviting, and her hand felt so warm and soft on Agnes’s cheek. Agnes leaned forward, but stopped herself just short of touching her lips to Maddie’s, hesitating.
‘It’s okay,’ Maddie breathed. ‘You can if you want.’
Agnes wanted to. She wanted to more than she had ever wanted anything. And so she did, closing the distance and placing a soft kiss on Maddie’s waiting lips.
Maddie’s eyes slid shut, and she parted her lips slightly, pulling Agnes closer. Agnes tested the waters, moving her lips tentatively. Maddie’s mouth was soft and her breath warm, and Agnes moaned softly, deepening the kiss. Maddie sighed against her lips.
This was only Agnes’s third kiss. The first had been with Wayne. There had never been anything between them, they’d just done it because neither of them had done it before and they wanted to know what it was like. The second had been with Theo, who had kind of maybe been her boyfriend but definitely wasn’t anymore, and had landed her here. This kiss was nothing like either of those. This meant something.
When they pulled apart, Maddie smiled softly and stroked Agnes’s cheek. ‘You have no idea,’ she whispered, ‘of how long I’ve wanted to kiss you.’ She tucked a strand of Agnes’s hair behind her ear. ‘You are so beautiful.’
‘So are you,’ Agnes murmured. She slid her arms around Maddie’s waist and hugged her close. Maddie’s arms enveloped her in return, and they stood like that for a while.
‘I guess we’re both well and truly damned now,’ Agnes said after a while.
‘Oh, big time,’ Maddie agreed. ‘Ain’t no coming back from lesbianism.’
They pulled apart slightly and looked at each other, and then they both burst into laughter.
‘Shh,’ said Agnes between giggles. ‘You’ll wake the others!’
‘I’ll shut up when you do,’ Maddie told her.
‘Fine.’ Agnes placed a hand on each of Maddie’s cheeks and pressed their lips together again. They both promptly fell silent. This kiss felt less hesitant than the last, though it was still fairly chaste. Which Agnes supposed was kind of funny, considering they had already masturbated together.
As they pulled apart once more, Maddie pressed her forehead to Agnes’s and sighed. ‘We’d best get back to bed, baby girl.’
Agnes nodded and placed another peck on Maddie’s lips. Then she hesitated. ‘Hey . . . You think any of the others would tell on us if I climbed into bed with you?’
‘This bunch?’ Maddie smiled. ‘I doubt they’d tell on us if they saw us kissing, even. Best not take any chances, of course, but if anyone asks we can just say you had a bad dream. It’s the truth.’ She took a step back and took Agnes’s hand in her own. ‘Come on.’
They headed back into the dorm room. The others seemed fast asleep, though as they passed her bed, Laura rolled over, blinking slowly.
‘You okay, Agnes?’ she whispered sleepily.
‘Yeah. Bad dream,’ Agnes replied.
‘Go back to sleep,’ Maddie prompted, and Laura obeyed.
They both crawled into Maddie’s bed, and Maddie put her arms around Agnes, holding her tightly. ‘See? Everything’s all right. You’re safe, sweetie.’
Agnes snuggled up to her, burying her face in her bosom, and was fast asleep before she had time to respond.
—————
Bliss could not last forever. Agnes knew that, but it still felt like a blow the day Maddie’s period finished and they had to part. They’d been sharing a bed for the past two nights now. Agnes had never felt so safe and content.
This would be the end of that. Soon Agnes too would be going back to the real world, and in the real world Agnes and Maddie could not share a bed, even if they had been in the same dormitory. After everything that had happened, they’d be lucky if they were even allowed to spend time in the same room by themselves. Agnes dreaded leaving. Dreaded having to face Mr. Portman. After she had made the mistake of going to his office while menstruating, she was sure he would step up the punishments, though exactly how that would be possible, she couldn’t imagine.
A day after Maddie had left, Agnes’s period stopped too, and she was let back out into the general population. Mary-Louise was waiting for her outside the fifth house.
‘I’m escorting you to Mr. Portman,’ she said stiffly. Agnes nodded, and followed.
Halfway there, Mary-Louise halted in front of her. Agnes nearly crashed into her. Her Big Sister turned around, her eyes dark with barely controlled rage. ‘How could you be so stupid?’ she hissed. ‘Going to Mr. Portman while you were dirty like that!’
‘How was I supposed to know I wasn’t meant to do that? You never told me!’ Agnes shot back. ‘Why do you care anyway, I thought you liked seeing me punished.’
‘You think you’re the only one who gets punished when you screw up like that?’ said Mary-Louise angrily. ‘I’m supposed to be responsible for you.’
It dawned on Agnes, then. Just like Ellie had been punished for failing to keep an eye on Maddie, so Mary-Louise was punished for failing to inform Agnes of what’s what. She almost felt sorry for her. Almost.
‘Then you have no one to blame but yourself, do you?’ she said. The words were barely out of her mouth before Mary-Louise raised her hand and slapped her across the face.
‘Don’t you dare speak to me that way, you harlot!’
Her choice of words would have made Agnes laugh, but Mary-Louise looked so angry and wounded, and for all that she deserved it, Agnes couldn’t laugh at that.
They walked the rest of the way in silence, and the closer they got to Mr. Portman’s office, the more Agnes felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to turn around, run away, just get out. But she knew there was nowhere to go.
Mary-Louise knocked curtly on the door to Mr. Portman’s office.
‘Enter,’ said his calm, cool voice. Mary-Louise opened the door.
‘Agnes is here.’
Mr. Portman looked up from his desk and smiled. ‘Thank you, Mary-Louise. That will be all.’
Agnes stepped across the threshold. She realised she was shaking.
‘Agnes.’ Mr. Portman’s smile was ever present. ‘Glad to have you back among the pure. I understand that you had not been informed of how you ought to keep your distance from me while under the effects of the curse of Eve.’
Agnes opened her mouth, closed it, swallowed, tried again. ‘No, sir. I was unaware.’
He nodded thoughtfully. ‘Still, you should have known better. You ought to have realised why you were confined, away from the others and from me. Thanks to you, this room was tainted. It had to be cleansed. I take this very seriously, as I am sure you understand. If not for the devil inside you, perhaps you would have been able to realise that.’
Agnes stared at the floor. Her fists were clenched in the fabric of her dress. Mr. Portman stood up.
‘You will not be attending any classes today,’ he said softly. ‘Instead, you will be here, receiving your punishment. Is that clear?’
She nodded. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘All right, then. Let’s begin. Take off your dress, please.’
He started with the spanking, his belt against her bare bottom and back. A dozen lashes or so, it was hard to keep count. Then he gave her water and had her stand in the same spot as before. Every fifteen minutes, he got up to give her more water.
She held it for as long as she could, she really did, but in the end she couldn’t hold it any longer, and she wet herself again. He didn’t make her clean it up, but simply gave her more water. This time, by the time she lost control of her bladder she was sobbing.
‘Please,’ she begged through her tears. ‘Please, no more!’
‘I am sorry, Agnes,’ said Mr. Portman. ‘Truly I am. But I am doing this for you. Because God wants that demon out of you. He wants you to be happy and free. Free from sin.’ He stroked her cheek gently, and she had to close her eyes and grit her teeth so as not to flinch away from that touch. ‘We have to cleanse your wicked soul, child. That is why we are here.’
He poured another glass of water and gave it to her. She drank.
Her legs ached from standing still. Her underwear was cold and wet and heavy. Mr. Portman was unrelenting. At lunch, he had food brought to his office. Mary-Louise carried it in. She didn’t spare Agnes a second glance. He ate. Agnes did not. She only stood, drinking the water he gave her, and when she couldn’t hold it anymore, peeing herself. At some point around two in the afternoon, she stopped trying to hold it, and just let it happen. She was no longer crying. There was just the occasional dry sob.
At around three in the afternoon, after Agnes had wet herself for the sixth time that day, Mr. Portman looked at the floor at Agnes’s feet. She was standing in a large puddle, some of the urine having dried between each wetting. He stood up, fetched a mop and bucket from the bathroom. ‘Clean that up,’ he said simply.
She did as she was told. Even if she had wanted to protest, she couldn’t bring herself to speak. While she was on her knees, scrubbing her own pee off the floor with a rag, she began to cry again, tears rolling silently down her cheeks and dripping onto the floor.
‘Get up,’ said Mr. Portman when the floor was clean. She did. ‘Take off your panties. You can put them in this bag.’ He handed her a plastic bag, and she did as she was told. Then he told her to put her hands on his desk and bend over. ‘Now, this time I want you to count.’
The belt struck home and Agnes cried out. ‘One!’ It stung on her already sore bottom, even if it had been a few hours since the first spanking. Again. ‘Two!’ she sobbed. Again. ‘Ow! Three!’
Mr. Portman said nothing. He stood there, slapping his belt against her butt, impassive, while she counted. At least until, ’Fifteen! Oh God, please stop!’
‘Do not take the Lord’s name in vain!’ he said, and the next lash was particularly hard and painful. She gasped for breath.
‘Six . . . Sixteen!’ she sobbed. ‘Please . . . Please stop!’
But he did not relent.
‘Seventeen! No . . . P-please—Eighteen! N-nineteen . . . Ow! Twenty!’
Silence. Agnes hardly dared to draw breath. Her body ached, and she couldn’t seem to stop crying.
‘Stand up straight,’ said Mr. Portman. He gently tugged at her shoulder to turn her around, and handed her her dress. ‘Here, put this on. You can go shower, and then go to bed if you wish. You will come back here tomorrow afternoon at the usual time. Dismissed.’ |
Is updating every two or three years a thing?
So weird that someone had necromancied this thread on literally the same day I looked in on this forum for the first time in, like, two years. Actually made me want to write more on this, so you can all thank @unravel for this update.
CW: sexual content, food-related punishments
————————
CHAPTER EIGHT
As soon as the door to Mr. Portman’s office had closed behind her, Agnes broke into a run. By the time she reached the dormitory building, she was sobbing, and when she got to her dorm, she let out a low wail. It wasn’t fair, none of it. How could they do this? How could it be legal? Did people know about this? And if they didn’t, how could they not? Did all the girls end up like Mary-Louise in the end? Would she?
She found clean underwear and a towel, and went to the showers. They were empty, of course. The rest of the girls were still in class.
The hot water stung her sore bottom, and she cried out in agony. Pain and humiliation, these were a daily part of her life now. Her reprieve in the Fifth House made returning to that routine all the worse.
She wished Maddie were with her. Missed her kisses, her touch, and her laugh. But classes weren’t out yet, and even if they had been, Agnes was too tired to go looking for her. Once she was clean, she went back to her dorm and got into bed. She fell asleep almost at once, only waking slightly when the other girls came to bed that night before drifting off again.
But the next time she woke up, she found herself in the showers again. She was squatting, peeing into the drain while touching herself. She didn’t try to stop it; it felt so good to just let go, and as she came she bit her lip to keep quiet. The dream she’d had was fading fast, but she was sure it had been about Maddie.
Her knees shook as she stood up. She glanced towards the window. It was still dark outside. Good. As she’d done the other times this happened, she rinsed her panties and hid them under her bed when she got back to the dorm. Everyone else was asleep. Agnes got back into bed, but she couldn’t seem to fall asleep again.
There was a small sound from the next bed over. She glanced through the darkness at Mary-Louise, who turned over in her sleep with a soft sigh and a whisper that sounded a lot like, ‘Daddy . . .’
It suddenly occurred to Agnes to wonder how long Mary-Louise had been at Mary Magdalene’s. Maddie had referred to her as Big Sister on several occasions, which made it sound like Mary-Louise had already been there when Maddie arrived. But that couldn’t be right. She was the perfect little Christian girl. Why hadn’t she been sent home? Something wasn’t right.
That thought almost made her laugh. Of course something wasn’t right. Nothing was right here. Maybe that was why it hadn’t occurred to Agnes to wonder about it before. She shrugged off the thought. Maybe Mr. Portman kept her around as an example to others, to show them what a good girl was like.
#
Seeing Maddie across the chapel the following morning filled Agnes with warmth. They exchanged a look and a smile, though they couldn’t speak to each other. Agnes longed to kiss her again, though she wasn’t sure how they’d be able to sneak away to do it.
Not having eaten in a whole day, Agnes had thought she’d be hungry, but when she sat down for breakfast she felt almost instantly sick. She forced down her food anyway, then went and threw up before going to class.
Maddie managed to grab hold of her on the way to lunch. ‘Hey, baby girl.’ She smiled. ‘Back out?’
‘Yeah, since yesterday morning,’ said Agnes.
Maddie frowned. ‘I didn’t see you at all yesterday.’
Agnes lowered her gaze. ‘I . . . I spent the day in Mr. Portman’s office.’
‘The whole day?’ Maddie looked stricken. ‘What the—?’
Agnes just shook her head. If she talked about it, she felt like she’d cry. ‘It was bad,’ was all she managed to say.
‘I’m so sorry, sweetie,’ said Maddie. ‘You okay?’
‘I guess. I’m going back this afternoon for the regular punishments. How about you? How have you been?’
Maddie shrugged. ‘I’m on the regular old water torture. You are too, I’m guessin’?’
Agnes nodded. ‘Yeah. But in the evening, after punishments, he said he’d give me a break.’ She had to pee pretty badly right now, though she wouldn’t be allowed to go until after she’d eaten. Suddenly, she recalled her thought from the night before. ‘Hey, Maddie . . .’
‘Hm?’
‘I was wondering about something. Mary-Louise . . . Was she already here when you got here?’
Maddie nodded. ‘Yeah. She wasn’t my Big Sister, but she was to one of the girls who got here at the same time I did. Why?’
‘Don’t . . . don’t you think it’s weird? That she’s still here, when she’s such a model pupil? I mean . . . shouldn’t they have sent her home?’
‘I . . .’ Maddie frowned. ‘I never really thought about that.’
‘I did,’ said a voice, and they turned to find Jean walking behind them. ‘You shouldn’t talk so loud, people listen,’ she said. Then she lowered her voice. ‘I asked another girl that question not long after I got here.’
‘And?’ said Agnes. ‘Did you get an answer?’
‘Well . . . For most of us, you’re here for a period of time and if you’re good by the end of it, or your parents don’t wanna extend your stay, you just go home, right? Like Bible Camp. But apparently, for the difficult cases, the ones that aren’t, you know, “cured” or whatever when they’re supposed to be . . . there’s this test. When a girl who’s had a really bad devil in her starts showing signs of improvement, she has to pass it three times. Three months in a row. If she fails once, it starts over.’
‘What’s the test?’ Maddie asked.
Jean shook her head. ‘I don’t know. No one does. The girls aren’t supposed to tell anyone. Maybe the test’s different for different people too, I dunno. But if Mary-Louise has never managed to pass three tests in a row . . .’
‘She did say she used to have the devil in her,’ said Agnes. ‘She told me she’d been just like me once.’
‘I guess she wouldn’t be here at all if she’d always been little miss perfect,’ said Maddie with a shrug. ‘Still, though . . . Weird that she keeps failing the test, whatever it is. You’d think it would translate.’
‘Well, she may get a lot of special treatment and privileges,’ said Agnes, ‘but she gets punished when she screws up, same as us. They all do, the watchdogs. I don’t know what happened to Ellie after she failed to keep an eye on you, Maddie, but she looked freaked out.’
‘Well, serves ’em right for doin’ his dirtywork in the first place,’ said Maddie.
‘I wonder if I’ll ever have to take that test,’ said Jean. ‘If I become, you know, good enough. They already extended my stay once.’
‘Why was that?’ Agnes asked. ‘You never said.’
Jean sighed. ‘You probably didn’t notice while we were in the Fifth House, but . . . I’m not good with food. Like, food textures and stuff. Certain foods, I just can’t swallow. Sometimes I just can’t force it down and they punish me. Sometimes I go throw up after and they catch me at it, and then they punish me for that too.’
‘Water torture?’ Maddie asked.
‘They did that at first,’ said Jean. ‘But it didn’t really work so well cause I’ve got like a steel bladder. And if a punishment doesn’t hurt you, they gotta find something else. So they force feed me. Sometimes they give me anti-emetics first, so I won’t throw up. Sometimes . . . they just tape my mouth shut . . .’ She shuddered, and suddenly she looked a little green. ‘Ugh . . . Excuse me.’ She rushed past them, heading for a bathroom.
‘Oh my god,’ Maddie whispered. ‘Poor Jean. I had no idea.’
Agnes shook her head, stunned. ‘Me either.’ She hoped to God they’d never catch her throwing up after breakfast and was glad she mostly had her eating situation under control now. ‘Do you know who her Big Sister is?’ she asked Maddie.
‘She’s not here anymore,’ said Maddie, shrugging. ‘I think her name was Cora or something like that. She became a good girl and got sent home.’
They’d reached the mess now. The tables were divided up by dorms, so they had to separate. ‘I’ll see you later,’ said Agnes.
‘See you, baby girl.’ Maddie smiled.
#
Since she had her punishment that afternoon, Agnes didn’t get much chance to talk to Maddie more. But the following day was a Sunday, and on Sundays they didn’t have classes. They still had morning, afternoon and evening prayer in the chapel, but the rest of the day was theirs to do with as they pleased. What was even better, on Sundays Mr. Portman didn’t do punishments unless it was to address a fresh wrongdoing, so while Agnes and Maddie still didn’t have bathroom privileges outside mealtimes, they didn’t have to drink extra water and Agnes did not have to go to his office that afternoon.
So after lunch, they snuck off together to the maintenance closet they’d been in before. It was the most private place they could think of. The moment the door was closed, Maddie turned to Agnes and kissed her. ‘I’ve wanted to do this since I left the Fifth House,’ Maddie whispered. ‘I missed being with you, baby girl.’
‘Me too,’ said Agnes breathlessly. ‘I . . . I dream about you at night . . .’
‘Yeah?’ Maddie’s smile turned mischievous. ‘What happens in your dreams?’
Agnes licked her lips, looking away. She felt herself blush. ‘Well, we . . . we kiss . . . and you . . . I mean, you, like, touch me.’
‘Yeah?’ Maddie smoothed back Agnes’s hair. ‘What else?’
Agnes shook her head. ‘That . . . that’s it.’
‘No it isn’t,’ said Maddie. ‘I can always tell when you’re holding something back, sweetie. What else happens in your dreams?’
The thought of telling Maddie what really happened in her dreams was so embarrassing. But then, Maddie had never given her any reason not to trust her. Never made fun of her for anything. Not for sleepwalking, not for wetting the bed . . . If anyone would understand, it was Maddie.
‘Sometimes . . . sometimes I wet myself. But it’s not like in the nightmares, or like how it is in Mr. Portman’s office. In the dreams, you and me are together, we’re kissing and you’re . . . you’re touching me . . . and then I gotta pee and I tell you. And you tell me I can just let go, it’s okay. And . . . I do. And it just feels kind of good.’ She knew she was blushing furiously.
Maddie put her arms around her and pulled her close. ‘You’re adorable,’ she whispered. ‘You’re the sweetest girl in all the world, Agnes. And . . . I know how you feel. When you’ve had to hold it, it feels wonderful to just let go. Mr. Portman, he makes us do it to humiliate us, but when I’m on my own, and I think about doin’ it without anyone laughing or disapproving or punishing me for it . . . the thought of wetting myself is kinda exciting.’
‘Really?’ Agnes’s heart was hammering in her chest. ‘You think about it too?’
‘Yeah,’ said Maddie.
Agnes pulled away, looking up into Maddie’s eyes. ‘Tonight,’ she said. ‘When you’re sure everyone else is asleep, meet me in the shower room.’
Maddie grinned. ‘I love it when you take initiative, baby girl.’
‘Don’t . . . don’t go to the bathroom before you go to bed.’
‘Roger that.’ Maddie kissed her again. ‘I can’t wait.’
#
Agnes lay in her bed pretending to sleep, but in reality, her heart was hammering. She hadn’t been to the bathroom since supper and now she had to pee. Not as badly as when she was on the water torture, not by a long shot. Not enough to hurt. Just enough that peeing would be a wonderful release.
When she was sure everyone else was asleep, she got out of bed and tiptoed down the hall to the shower room. There was nobody there yet, but Maddie showed up shortly after. The shower room had three cubicles of a sort with four showers in each. The cubicles had doors that latched, and they went inside one without saying a word.
After latching the door, Maddie turned to Agnes with a smile. ‘Hey, baby girl.’
‘Hey.’ Agnes returned the smile. She crossed her legs a little.
‘Gotta pee, huh?’
Agnes nodded. ‘Yeah.’
Maddie reached out, then seemed to hesitate. ‘Can I . . . can I touch you, Agnes?’
Agnes nodded again. ‘Yeah. Please.’ Her voice was breathless. Maddie put her hand on the front of Agnes’s white panties, rubbing her slowly through the fabric. Agnes hissed, throwing back her head.
‘Feel good?’ Maddie asked.
‘Yeah . . .’ Agnes blushed. ‘Should . . . can I touch you too?’
‘Please,’ said Maddie. Her cheeks were flushed pink. She looked so gorgeous like this. Agnes reached out and did what Maddie was doing. ‘Oh . . .’ Maddie closed her eyes. ‘That feels so nice, baby girl.’
Agnes touched Maddie’s cheek with her other hand, then kissed her gently. They sped up the movement of their hands, rubbing faster. Then Maddie slid her fingers into Agnes’s panties and pressed a finger inside her while massaging her clit with her thumb. It was lucky they were kissing, or Agnes might have cried out. It felt so good!
She broke the kiss and whispered. ‘Ah . . . I’m gonna . . . if you do that, I’m gonna come!’
‘Do it to me too,’ said Maddie, and Agnes obeyed. She felt clumsy. She’d never done this before. The inside of Maddie’s pussy was tight and wet. Still, though Agnes was a novice and wasn’t entirely sure she knew what she was doing, Maddie seemed to enjoy it.
Maddie’s finger pressed against Agnes’s bladder, and her thumb moved faster. Agnes closed her eyes. ‘Maddie . . . I’m really close . . . and I really have to pee!’
‘It’s okay,’ said Maddie. ‘You can do it whenever you want.’
And with a soft moan, Agnes came. As her orgasm hit her, she immediately began to wet herself, pee running down her legs, over her feet, pitter-pattering down onto the tiles. Maddie took her hand, the one that was touching Maddie’s pussy, and helped her find a rhythm, and a moment later Maddie came too, and then she also wet herself. Her warm pee trickled out over Agnes’s hand as they kissed.
All Agnes could hear was their breathing echoing off the tiles and her own heartbeat in her ears. She looked into Maddie’s eyes, and then they both giggled. ‘Wow,’ Maddie said breathlessly. ‘That was really . . . I mean, wow.’ She kissed Agnes’s lips. ‘Was it like your dream?’
Agnes smiled. ‘Yeah. It was just like my dream.’
They cleaned themselves off and left the shower room. The hall was deserted. Everyone else was asleep. Leaning in, Agnes kissed Maddie again. ‘Goodnight,’ she whispered.
‘Night, baby girl,’ said Maddie. Agnes made to step away, but Maddie grabbed her wrist and looked into her eyes. ‘Agnes?’
‘Yeah?’
‘I love you.’
Agnes’s smile turned into a huge grin. ‘I love you too, Maddie.’
Then they each went their separate ways. Exhausted and happy, Agnes fell asleep, dreaming of her beautiful girl.
————————
Author's note: One of the reason why I haven't been working on this story is that I've kind of lost interest in girls, sexually speaking. I'm a trans guy and women's bodies kind of just don't do it for me anymore. I feel like that shows in this sex scene, somehow... And I'm sorry about that. I'm too gay for this. Still, I actually have a plan for how to end this story now, so yay! |
A/N: Maybe one of these days I'll write a story that doesn't involve Francesca in some way, but that day is not today. This story mostly focuses on Alex, though. As always, here are the bios for these characters. The intro is kinda...sporadic, but even after re-working it a few times, it still felt wonky. I guess just suffer through it, or skip to the action.
Alexandra Gale, or Alex, as she preferred to be called, was frustrated that she had to wear her costume around the Cavalry Headquarters on a normal day like this, but there was an outsider in the building, and that was the rules. And since he was in her room, she also had to take special care to lock all of her drawers and make sure there was nothing to give away her true identity.
She wondered how many short, curvy girls with lavender in their hair there were in Louis City, that no one had figured out that she and Razzmatazz were the same person. Not that she was really complaining, but it got annoying to have to get all dolled up in her red high heels, fishnets, red sequined shorts and tuxedo jacket, white button down, yellow vest and bow tie, purple boutonniere, and the headband with a small, red top hat positioned on the side of her head. Finally, there was the most important piece- a yellow domino mask.
It was a pain to get on, though no uncomfortable to her; it couldn't be, considering all the crime fighting she did. It still wasn't suited for lounging around, but she didn't have a choice in the matter, seeing as something had caused the plumbing leading to her room- and her room alone, somehow- to require some extensive fixing.
It wasn't long into the repairs on her bathroom that her annoyance at having to wear her costume became a minuscule inconvenience. Much more pressing was the fact that she had realized a slight need to pee not long after getting dressed and decided to ignore it, due to how much she hated getting the fishnets on and off, and that this slight need had grown. A lot.
So now she really, really had to pee, and she had hoped that her bathroom would be done before she got too desperate, but her bladder ached. She might be able to make it until the plumber was done, but it would not be a particularly comfortable wait, and she decided she did not want to risk it.
The group operated out of an old apartment building, and though most of it had been remodeled, five apartments remained in-tact for the members of the team. All she really had to do was knock on one of their door's and the problem would be solved.
Her first choice was Jack. Out of the team, she considered him to be her best friend and had no problem just showing up to use his bathroom. But when she got to his room, he didn't answer her knocks. She turned the knob, finding it unlocked, and entered the room. Surely, if he wasn't home, it wouldn't matter if she was in and out.
The sound of running water stopped her idea short. She didn't even have to look to know he was in the shower, and she felt a sense of dread. Jack, for whatever reason, was known to take ridiculously long showers, meaning she would have to look elsewhere. Not to mention the fact that the running water was not helping matters.
No matter, she thought, as she exited his apartment. There were three other bathrooms in the building. She still had options, and so she moved on to Anabel's. The youngest member of the team was one of the sweetest people Alex knew, and she wondered how such a sweet person was able to date someone like Francesca. It was still strange to watch the two of them together.
Pushing those thoughts from her mind, she knocked on Anabel's door, hearing music coming from inside. A few moments of silence passed as Alex squirmed, shifting her weight from foot to foot. Again, she knocked, but there was still no response and she wondered if the music was too long for Anabel to hear. Though she was not nearly as close with the young woman as she was with Jack, she decided to try opening the door anyway. She groaned when she realized it was locked.
Of course, Anabel was probably tinkering with some new gadget in there, with music turned up to the point that no amount of noise would rouse her from her focus, and would not come out for hours at best. Alex's options were dwindling, and she made her way to Will's apartment.
Again, she followed the same pattern of knocking, waiting, squirming, knocking again, and waiting again. Her bladder was so full she could not stand still, and Will's apartment was so silent that she began to suspect he wasn't home. She tried his door to find it locked, knocked a few more times, and gave up.
This was one of the worst outcomes she could imagine. There was only one person left in the building for her to proposition, and that was Francesca. It wasn't that Alex didn't like her; she liked her just as much as the next guy, but, admittedly, the next guy probably only liked her a little bit and only on good days.
Either way, she wasn't particularly keen on approaching Francesca when she was in such a vulnerable position, but that position was so vulnerable that she could not avoid such a confrontation. Each step she took was painful, jostling her so that she was sure she would lose control at any moment. Finally, she arrived at Francesca's door and knocked, and this time, the door was opened almost immediately.
Francesca stood in the doorway, grinning her signature, nasty grin, with her face paint done up in the shape of a mask, just as it always was when she patrolled the city as the Penalty. Alex wasn't really sure why, but lately, she felt incredibly creepy-crawly whenever she felt the older woman's green eyes on her.
“Wouldja lookit that!” she declared dramatically. “One a my friends came to visit, huh? What can I do for ya, Razzy?”
She fidgeted. “You know how my bathroom's being worked on today, right? Well, I...kind of...” She was never normally this shy, but Francesca was imposing, and that goddamn grin of hers kept growing.
“What is it? Gotta piss or somethin'?” She chuckled. “And why's that my problem, exactly?”
“Because I've been by everyone else's apartments, and they were all busy or gone or whatever,” she said, looking away. “Look, you're the only one left, so would you please let me in?”
“Why, of course I'll let ya in,” said Francesca, just a bit too innocently for Alex's tastes. Something was up.
She stepped aside to grant Alex entrance into her apartment, which positively reeked of smoke, just like the resident. She suppressed a cough and started to make her way for the bathroom when Francesca grabbed her arm, hard, and stopped her.
“Where d'ya think yer goin', little lady?”
“I already told you what was up,” she said, confused.
Francesca laughed and said, “I said I'd letcha in. Didn't say nothin' about lettin' ya do anything else.”
Her eyes widened in disbelief. Was her teammate really going to deny her access to the bathroom for absolutely no reason? “What the hell, Penalty?!”
“It's the Penalty, actually,” she corrected, smug.
“Whatever. Just...please.” Alex's situation was getting past critical, and the longer she stood there, the closer she came to full-on wetting herself. She tried to wrench her arm free of Francesca's grasp, but the older woman was stronger than her and her hand did not budge.
“I'm gonna think about it,” she said, watching as Alex squirmed. It was impossible to even attempt to disguise her movements, and she pressed a hand between her legs, trying to ignore the expression on her teammate's face as she did so.
“Please. Francesca...the Penalty. I...I'm going to...”
“Yeah, kinda figured,” Francesca replied, and her tone was lewd, and suddenly Alex began to suspect that there was more to this than simply fucking with her. Her suspicions did not matter when she was this close to wetting herself, though, and her pleading was ignored as the Penalty continued with, “Still thinkin' 'bout it.”
“Please,” she said, hoping that her desperation carried through her tone and that it would tug at whatever humanity still lay in Francesca's heart. If she even had one of those, at least.
Another long pause followed, and she whimpered when she felt a small dribble force itself out, dampening her panties. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Francesca said, “Fine, if ya really think it's that bad...go ahead!” She gestured for her bathroom door, and Alex did not need to be told twice.
She could not even attempt to run at this point, but she hobbled along as quickly as she could, not noticing the footsteps that followed her until she had reached the bathroom. She turned to see her teammate hanging in the doorway, leering. There was a look in her eyes that made Alex nauseous.
“What are you doing?” she asked, already knowing, but still dreading, the answer.
“It's my damn apartment! You really gonna tell me I can't stand where I please?” she asked, and even had the nerve to laugh at her statement.
“Get the hell out, I'm not gonna let you watch me...watch me...” She trailed off as she suddenly noticed the heavy scent of urine that already filled the air, and looked down into the bathtub. She saw, to her horror, a damp pair of pink panties and one of Anabel's dresses, with a telltale wet spot. Looking back up at Francesca, she opened her mouth to say something but was speechless.
“Ya caught me,” was all she said in response to the accusatory stare, and it was at that moment that Alex's bladder gave up, flooding its contents into her red shorts. Francesca's eyes practically lit up when she heard her groan and saw the stream running down her legs.
The sequins mostly covered the growing dark patch, but they grew wet themselves and a puddle began to form on the bathroom floor. There was a part of her that felt fantastic to finally be able to let it out, but a much bigger part was horrified and humiliated that she had done this in front of a woman who most likely enjoyed it.
“Feel a little better, Razzy?” asked Francesca, when it was all over.
“Fuck you,” she replied, shoving her way past. The older woman did not try to stop her this time, at least.
“I mean, if ya wanna. Not sure how Annie would feel about that, but...” She laughed at the sharp glare Alex shot her.
A/N: Franny is mean. Ending got difficult for me, but whatever, I finished it. |
A/N: Another commission, this one an original story with a plot similar to Giga tournaments, I believe. I've never watched any of them, but this is a game show and a holding contest, so there ya go.
Once upon a time, a certain game show was hosting a competition for women. The challenge involved a maze with various tricks and traps that would have to be avoided, and the woman with the best time in solving the maze would be the winner of a nice monetary prize.
There was one catch, however. All women had to be desperate to pee before they went into the maze, and if they lost control of their bladders, they were immediately disqualified, regardless of how close they were to finishing the maze.
One of the contestants, Kyoko Hashimoto, was twenty four years old. She had short, black hair with blue streaks. She was slim and wore an orange shirt that resembled a robe with its lapels, a pleated orange skirt, white socks, and white sneakers. She had worn the shoes for practicality, but had tried to dress cutely considering she was going to be on TV and all. She was going to be one of the last ones to compete.
Naomi Anderson, who was twenty one and half-American, would be competing near the middle. Her eyes were naturally blue, and she had dyed her black hair blonde to try to match that appearance. It was a strange look, yet beautiful on her somehow. She went for total comfort in her out for the competition, wearing a pink spandex leotard over purple leggings, with white sneakers and pink socks.
Finally, there was Miyuki Yamamoto, who would be the very first to enter the maze competition. She was twenty nine, and had long black hair that fell past her mid-back, as well as gray eyes. She wore red shorts, a red shirt, a white vest, white sneakers, and red socks.
She had no idea what would await her inside the maze as she entered, and was surprised to see a small, six-walled room with a door on each wall. She supposed that she would have to choose wisely and be met with similar rooms over and over again. She started off through the right-most door, deciding that would be the pattern she followed at first, until she reached a dead end.
It was not long until she reached a room with a large pool of water that she nearly slipped and fell into. If she was going to try another door, she would have to swim it, but her bladder protested at the thought of entering that cold water.
She turned back and tried other doors, but soon, she was confused. Her pattern idea was supposed to work out so well, but already, she had no idea which doors she had gone through and which ones she had not. She was lost and, to make matters worse, her bladder was really starting to make itself known to her.
She paused for a moment, even knowing that every second counted, and squirmed in place, squeezing her thighs together and biting her lip. She had to pee so terribly badly, just as all of the contestants had to, and she was nearing her limit too soon. It did not matter how quickly she solved this puzzle if her bladder could not handle waiting for a bathroom.
She considered going back to that pool and peeing while she swam across. No one would be able to tell, and though it would be cheating, it would certainly give her an advantage! This idea did not last long, however, because she soon realized she had no idea which way to go to get back to that pool.
Her pulse quickened as she realized that she did not stand a very good chance of winning this game. She was nearing her limit, she was thoroughly lost, and she was just standing there, wasting time as she attempted to strategize. How could she make up for her lost time when her bladder throbbed so much that she did not know if she could even run?
She started off at the quickest pace she could manage, haphazardly running through whatever door she could, all to no avail. She had no idea which was to go and, if she found the exit, it would have to be due to chance. Throwing open door after door, she was greeted with more empty rooms and more traps, and nothing even slightly resembling the end of the maze.
She had to take another moment to pause when she felt a dribble of pee escape into her panties, panicked. Already, her control was starting to slip, and she was still unsure of how to escape this maze. She squirmed in place, squeezing her thighs together to try to prevent any further leakage before she started into the next room.
She froze immediately, but this time, it had nothing to do with any bladder leaks. There were two people, a man and a woman, waiting for her. She had heard that some traps would involve tickling, but she had hoped she would not encounter one of those.
She turned to flee, but the two closed in on her, grabbing hold of her before she could make it out the door. Between the two of them, she could not get away, and they held her firmly. She struggled against them, but soon, they had their fingers at her sides, tickling her so that she could not resist them.
She wiggled and giggled, those giggles turning into frantic, hysterical laughter as she tried to fight them off and fought her own bladder at the same time. Leak after leak escaped, soaking her panties. She hoped that it was not enough to leave a visible spot on her red shorts.
Miyuki attempted to elbow one of her assailants and break free, but this failed. They moved their hands up into her armpits, and she shrieked in a mixture of laughter and panic. Her bladder could not hold out for much longer if she did not break free, but she could not think straight enough to attempt escape again.
Again, she felt a leak, but this time, it was a much stronger spurt of urine that she knew would stand out on her shorts. She felt tears well up in her eyes from the laughter, but did not feel like laughing at all. There was another, stronger spurt, followed by more and more until it was a steady stream that would not stop.
Her ticklers noticed that she had begun to wet herself and let go of her, backing away as the stream continued. Her knees buckled and she struggled to remain standing as the warm pee gushed out of her, creating a large puddle on the floor of the maze room. Her breathing was ragged and her hands shook.
She peed for nearly a full minute, and the relief was so wonderfully overwhelming that it barely registered with her that she was wetting herself on television and had most definitely lost the contest. She sighed with relief, then sighed again with disappointment as the two who had tickled her led her out of the maze.
~X~
Time went by, and competitor after competitor fought their way through the maze. A few even found the end, but the vast majority lost control of their bladders before they could make it out. Eventually, the time came for Naomi to try her hand at solving the maze before it was too late.
She was excited, though she could already feel her bladder swelling with all the liquid she had been made to consume. Still, she thought she stood a better chance, being one of the younger contenders. She was fast and she had endurance. She would beat all of their times and avoid wetting herself with no problem!
She charged off into the maze, trying to follow an old trick she had heard. If you kept your arm out, running your hand along the wall of a maze, you could never go back the same way you had come from. She was not sure how well that would hold up in this setup, but she hoped the result would be the same.
She dodged tricks and traps as if they weren't there, and was even able to outrun the ticklers that had taken down the first woman. Things were going well for her until her bladder took a sudden turn for the worse, causing her to double over in desperation. It had gotten so bad out of nowhere, and she bit her lip, squirming in place.
She had not expected something like. Even knowing the nature of the contest, she had assumed she would only lose if her time was bad. She had never once thought that she would lose control, and had not thought wetting herself on TV was a possibility. She had been convinced that holding it would be the least of her worries.
But now she was showing off just how desperate she really was, and real people were going to see this behavior, and they were going to see her wet herself, and that wasn't something she could handle. She felt herself go into a panic and started off again, running as fast as she could with this new found desperation. She had to stay hunched over to even move.
She whimpered as she was forced to pause again and avoid a leak. Her eyes watered as she jammed a hand between her legs. She felt so pathetic, already reduced to this when she had had such a strong start, and her panic increased as she tried to think of a way out of this.
There was no way she could solve the maze at this point. She knew that, despite her promising start, she was completely out for the count. But if she just stood there and waited for the inevitable, that would solve nothing. She had to get away from the cameras, before they caught her embarrassment and let the world see.
Her only option was to try and escape the maze. Quitting wasn't an option this late in the game, but if she could somehow get out of one of the sides, she would be out of view of the cameras.
The problem was reaching one of the side exits that were for the people doing traps in the maze. She was so near her limit, and she could barely remember which way was which any more. She tried to remember which way she had come from, and mentally retrace her steps enough to know which direction would lead her right or left.
Naomi could not think straight enough to be sure, but when she had a good guess, she started off in that direction, hoping desperately that the leaks she began to feel were not enough to show through the leggings and leotard.
Finally, after what felt like forever, she found of the doors she was looking for, painted the same color as the walls around it and barely distinguishable. Excited that she would soon be free of her impending humiliation, she pushed at the door. It didn't budge.
She whimpered, feeling a small spurt of urine run down her leg. It must be that she didn't push hard enough, she thought, and hoped that she could hold on while she pushed harder.
Suddenly, someone else burst in the room and said, “What are you doing? That's not one of the doors for the maze!”
She ignored them and continued to push, feeling her control slip more and more. She could have sworn she felt the door move a little bit that time, she was almost there, just a little bit more and she would be free! But then she felt the person's arms, hooking through her shoulders and pulling her back, and then it was all over for her.
The small dark spot on her leotard began to grow, and the thin trail that had snaked down her leg before spread as well, the contents of her bladder rushing out as she lost complete control. The bright pink was soon a magenta color, while the pale purple became a deep violet, and her piss began to leak out of her clothes, forming a puddle on the floor.
Tears began to run down her cheeks as she felt the last of her pee trickle out. Despite how hard she had tried, she had not been able to avoid wetting herself on tv, and despite her promising start, she had lost the contest. Now everyone would see her humiliation, and she had nothing to show for her effort.
She was escorted out of the very door she had tried to use for escape, and they began to clean and reset the maze for the next contestant to enter.
~X~
Kyoko was the very last contestant, and had watched all of the women before her who had been defeated. There had still been more defeats than victories, and the woman currently holding the best time was not too impressive. If she concentrated, and if luck was on her side, Kyoko could beat her, though she was not personally sure that that was a possibility.
The only thing that she knew gave her an advantage was the fact that she knew she had a good chance of being able to hold it until the very end. She had been in several desperate situations before, and, after a humiliating accident at school once upon a time, had made sure she wouldn't lose control like that anymore. Her bladder was strong, and even though she knew she would have to pee pretty badly soon, she had confidence in her ability to make it.
She started off in the direction that she believed had been followed by the women who had been more successful. She had tried her best to memorize their paths, and hoped that she was following them accurately now. Her bladder was already a faint annoyance, but she did not give it more than a moment's thought.
She knew how to dodge most of the traps by this point, but there was one that she was not sure how to handle. However, it didn't seem that she could dodge it, as every woman who had finished the maze had had to pass it at some point. It was the two ticklers, who she had to manage to outrun.
From what she had seen, if the door closed behind you before they reached it, they would not follow you into the next room, but if they reached the door before it closed, they would follow you until you sped up enough that they reached a closed door. She had to be fast enough that they would not catch her, but she didn't know if she could.
When at last she came upon the room that the two people were in, she broke into her fastest run, throwing herself into the next room. However, she hadn't been quick enough to shake them, and they followed into the room after her. She could hear their footsteps behind her and she ran more frantically, stumbling as she struggled to outrun her predators.
Her heart pounded as she picked up speed, and she tripped suddenly, and then they were upon her, lifting her up and tickling her. She squealed and fought her bladder's attempts to release before turning her attention to fighting her captors. They had a tight hold on her, but she did her best to try and wrench free.
They stopped tickling her all at once and begun to drag her away. Horror dawned on her as she realized that they were going to try to throw her out of the maze. Her fight increased, struggling to not be thrown out before she even had a chance.
Finally, she felt their grips loosened, and she fought free, bolting away before they could grab her again. She was faster than before, and managed to escape them this time. She kept her speed up, following the path she had memorized. Her bladder was the last thing on her mind as she tried to make up for the lost time.
Making progress, she dodged the traps she faced and kept her mind on the victory she hoped was coming to her. She had no way of knowing her time for sure, but hoped that she had not already lost without realizing it. Her bladder throbbed painfully, reminding her that she was fighting another battle.
She had to pee so badly that she could barely run, but pushed on against that. Knowing that she was so near the end, she willed herself to hold on just a little bit longer. She had to complete this maze before she wet herself; she had to.
Even when she began to wonder if she had followed the path correctly, or if she had messed it up somehow, she didn't let her doubt slow her down. Slowing down would just increase her chance of wetting herself, and she was sure that she was going the right way. Just a few more doors, and she would be out!
Her bladder's protests grew louder and louder, but she pressed on, pushing through room after room until she knew she had come to what should be the very last one. One look at the center door, and she knew she had been correct. It was more ornate than the others, very obviously the exit. Maybe it was done up like that because the girls had faced so much that they deserved an easy room at the end.
Either way, Kyoko had made it through the maze without losing control, though she was dangerously close to doing so. She pushed the door open, and was immediately assaulted by shots of confetti. Her race was over, and she did not even mind the fact that her bladder, without any incentive to hold, had given up.
As the people around here celebrated her victory, she began to flood her panties, the stream so strong that she got the front of her orange skirt wet. She moaned in relief, humiliated to do this in front of so many people, but much happier about the fact that she had finished the maze without losing control. She had clearly only been seconds away, and she had survived the close call.
When she had finished wetting herself, her socks and shoes soaked and a large puddle at her feet, she was finally told that her time had been the best. Despite the trials she had faced and the time she had lost, despite almost losing control before she made it out, she had won!
Kyoko was overjoyed that she had emerged victorious, and definitely did not mind wetting herself now. Either way, she had won, and that was all that really mattered.
A/N: Hope that I got everything the way you wanted it! Sorry that the ending was kind of rushed, couldn't think of anything else to tie it all together. |
I had my first embarrassing accident when I was 8. I hadn’t been to the loos all day and when I came back home from school, I couldn’t hold it any longer and wet myself in the hall, on my way to the toilet. It was a mortifying experience but I tried to forget about it and moved on thinking that it was a onetime thing, and it would never happen again. But then, a few weeks later, the same thing happened. I wet myself when I reached home, after not using the loos at school. It was heart breaking. I was an eight year old boy, who had wet himself twice in a month. It was so humiliating, but thankfully, my maid cleaned up the mess both the times without telling anything to my parents.
How would have they known anyway? They were working all the time and barely spent any time at home, much less with me.
After my second accident, I decided to let go off my inhibitions about using the loos at school and just go whenever I felt the need. You guessed it right, most of the times before this, I would reach home absolutely bursting for the toilets. There was this one time when I was almost about to lose it in my pants when I stepped onto the porch of my house after a long day at school. I knew that I wasn’t going to make it to the toilets, so I just rushed towards the wall of bushes that surrounded the garden and started peeing on it. It was so relieving to let it all come out after such a long hold but it was equally shaming too. My maid saw me peeing there but she didn’t complain, she just said, “Oh, you really had to go, ha?”
I remember it as the longest pee of my life. I haven’t peed that much even through all my years as an adult.
I tried to put all these incidents behind me and move on with my life but the damage was already done. All those accidents and near close calls had totally broken my confidence. I started to do poorly in my exams; I started to remain quiet, run away from anyone who tried talk to me. I kept myself locked up in my room all throughout the day, only to come out for meals. My parents started to worry about me, because they didn’t know the reason behind the sudden changes they were seeing in me and I was glad they didn’t know.
Sometime later, we shifted to another house about 3 kilometers away from our old one. I was happy about this change. Now, I didn’t have to walk through the spots in my home where I had wet myself standing.
Now I could actually put it all behind me and start a new life.
Trying to avoid wetting myself made me so committed to the idea of using the toilets at every opportunity, that I would go even if I didn’t need to. Even if it would be a trickle, even if it would be a few drops, I would make sure to use the toilets whenever I could.
Obviously, this habit helped me avoid getting into desperate situations but then as they say, every day is not the same.
It was only a year later that I realized that I cannot always evade getting desperate.
It was the day of 24th September 1993, I still remember the date correctly.
Every student and teacher was in the auditorium, preparing for the grand scale Annual Function event that was just 2 days away. We all were to stay back longer that day for the rehearsals, till around 4:30 pm. I was in for a chorus song, so I had to say back too.
When the rehearsals finally packed up, all the students were asked to gather in the main hall and join their particular bus lines. We used to stand in lines according to our bus routes. Every bus had a teacher who was the bus supervisor. Their job was to make sure that no student was left behind after school and also to maintain the discipline in the bus.
As I stood in my line, I realized that I had to pee quite badly. That was when it came to me that I hadn’t peed since I left my house that morning. The thought only intensified my need to go.
I couldn’t believe that I didn’t notice I had to go this urgently all the while I was rehearsing. Maybe I was so lost having fun with my friends that my brain didn’t even pick up the signals my bladder was sending.
Anyways, I walked up to my bus supervisor, who was standing in front of the line and asked if I could leave for a quick trip to the loos.
She politely declined saying it was time to board the bus. She was right. Our line had begun moving, and they were not going to stop for a single student while he nipped off to the loos. Rather worried, I joined the line back and started towards my bus.
I must tell that by this point my bladder was swollen rock hard, full with liters and liters of urine. It was so full that it was hurting to walk. I was not surprised though. I used to carry a big 2 liter thermos bottle to school that I had emptied by lunch that day. And I also had milk for breakfast, which was right before leaving my house. There was no wonder why I was so desperate to pee.
Rather anxious, I took the window seat in the middle of the bus and sat with my legs pressed together. I was worried because I was having a bathroom emergency at that moment and yet instead of going to the loos, I was sitting in the bus, ready to take a 45 minute ride home.
I remember how each bump on the road jolted my bladder to the brink of near explosion. It came to the point where I had to undo my belt and unbutton my shorts to take the pressure off my bladder.
The boy sitting next to me asked why I was doing this and I told him that I had to pee really badly.
There were moments when I thought I can’t hold it any longer. I thought I would wet myself in the bus, in front of all those students and teachers, but I held on. I held on with everything I had.
Wetting myself when alone had been extremely embarrassing, I couldn’t imagine what would happen if I wet myself in front of all these people. This thought gave me strength I guess. I just held on tight. My bladder was bursting but I just kept looking out of the window, trying to suppress my need to pee.
I had decided that I would pee as soon as I got off at my stop. I knew I won’t be able to endure even the two minute walk home from there.
I hadn’t been to the bathroom for the last eight hours, and I couldn’t expect my body to wait much longer. I just had to pee as soon as I could.
I remember dribbling into my underwear as I saw my stop approaching. I was frightened to think that I’d not be able to stop once I start peeing. I had to get off the bus and fast.
I somehow managed to get up from my seat and make my way to the exit without losing control. I got off at my stop, ready to pee anywhere, but a bunch of people standing there, forced me to put my plan to rest. I was not going to pee in front of them, which meant only one thing, I had to make it home so I could use the loos.
Stopping my pee at the gates, I hastily crossed the road and quickly walked towards my home. I can’t actually describe how it felt to walk while I was struggling to hold my pee at the very edge. All I can say is that it is a feeling of horror mixed with panic.
I had to pee so much, my body was about to give up and my house was twenty feet away. Those twenty feet looked like twenty kilometers at that point. What if my neighbors saw me wet myself? What if they told my parents? What if my friends saw me in my wet clothes?
I didn’t want to imagine the embarrassment it would have caused me. All I knew was that I had to get to the bathroom, no matter what.
I walked and walked and then finally, I reached my home. I opened the gate and started walking quickly towards the front door. But by this point, my body had had just about enough and a thin rivulet of urine started flowing out of me, travelling down my legs. My crotch felt warm, my inner thighs felt warm, making me realize that my body was giving up but I couldn’t. I couldn’t give up.
I opened the door and threw my bag on the couch as I rushed towards the bathroom, leaving drops of urine on the floor. But when I reached next to the bed, right in front of the toilet door, my body gave out completely and a hot stream of urine started gushing out of me.
I wanted to move, walk towards the toilet but my legs refused to obey. I was frozen with shock and relief. That feeling of relief is something I’d never forget. Hot pee soaking through my underwear and my shorts, running down my legs and forming a warm puddle at my feet, drenching my socks. It felt so amazing to finally release it. For a moment I didn’t care that I was wetting myself, all I cared about was the unspeakable relief.
But soon the feeling of embarrassment gripped me. I saw my legs trembling as pee cascaded down through them. I tried to stop the flow so I could finish it in the toilet but no. It refused to stop. The river of urine continued to pour out of me as I stood there, shaking in shame.
I couldn’t decide what to do first when I was finally done peeing. It wasn’t like this was the first time I was having an accident on the floor of my house but my brain had completely stopped working for a moment. I just couldn’t think of anything, maybe because I was so embarrassed.
Then, my maid walked in. She had seen me rushing into the house and wanted to know if I was alright.
I still remember seeing her accidentally step on my puddle of pee. I wondered how it would have felt on her bare feet. She was shocked when she saw the massive puddle on the floor; I could read it on her face.
She asked me how long I had been holding it to have such a huge accident. At that point, I was so humiliated that out of sheer shame and embarrassment, I told her that it was not pee but water that had spilled out of my water bottle.
She didn’t buy it though. She scolded me for lying to her and asked me to go change out of my wet clothes. I went to the bathroom with a heart pounding hard in anxiousness and shame and took a shower. When I stepped out, the puddle of pee I had left was gone.
I couldn’t have thanked my maid enough for it. She then washed my pee stained clothes and put them for drying in the sunlight.
Later when my mom and dad came home, I greeted them with my usual smile and asked if they’d brought anything for me.
I was ready to act like nothing had happened. Like I wasn’t the one who had wet himself in front of the toilet a few hours ago. I never wanted anyone to know about this.
My maid never told my parents about my accidents and I can’t thank her enough for it. She quit working at our place a few years later and with her, my little secret was gone, probably forever. |
Officer Jenny shared a quick smile with Sergeant Brad as she walked into the Police Station. She signed her sheet and engaged herself in a small chit- chat with another of her co-workers before making her way to the toilet.
Brad, who needed to relieve himself as well, thought it would be good idea to take a long due break from work and make a trip to the loos.
He entered the men’s toilet to find Jenny at the urinals. Her hand holding the wall in front of her and her body slightly bent forward, she didn’t even notice that she had company.
Brad joined his colleague at the adjacent urinal, without making much noise.
Jenny sighed, looking down at the river of clear urine flowing out of her penis as it splattered loudly on the porcelain.
Brad could see her body shuddering as she gently threw her face up, with her eyes closed in relief.
“Long day, huh…?” he asked.
“Yeah…” Jenny breathed.
Brad smiled vaguely and finished his job. He washed his hands at the washbasin before walking out, leaving Jenny alone.
He sat down on his desk and resumed his work. Moments later, Jenny walked out of the toilets, “I’m going home..” she waved goodbye to Brad.
“Good Night..”, he waved back.
-----
At some other corner of the city, Jasmine sped her bike along the road to reach her favorite bar. She hurriedly parked her Harley Davidson chopper at the parking lot and squeezed her dick through her denim shorts as she climbed off.
A few steps towards the bar and Jasmine abruptly stopped, “Ahhh! Fuck!” she cried out as a spurt of urine escaped into her panties.
She gripped her crotch tighter and walked as fast as she could. She pushed open the bar door and rushed towards the loos, ignoring everything and everyone. She went straight inside the ladies’ toilet but unfortunately for her, all the stalls were occupied. She would have to wait. No, she couldn’t wait. She hurried back towards the washbasin, unzipped her shorts, adjusted her panties, held her dick towards the drain and started peeing in it, in the clear view of everyone who happened to be nearby!
“Fuck!? What are you doing?!” her friend Christine laughed.
“Sorry, I couldn’t hold it any longer,” Jasmine sighed, her shoulders sagging in relief as a thick torrent of urine continued to rush out of her.
She borrowed Christine’s cigarette and took a few puffs as she stood there, peeing and peeing and peeing..
When she was done, Jasmine went to the bar and ordered herself a beer. It wasn’t like this was her first for the night. She was already quite heavily drunk, which was obvious by the length of her pee at the washbasin, but the night was young and she didn’t want anything to come in her way.
-----
The Next Day : 7:00 PM
Jenny sat in her cop car, looking out of the window and eating a donut. She rubbed her swollen bladder lightly as she thought of finding a place to relive herself. It had been a long day and she had quite a bit to drink.
She rubbed her thighs together as she looked around to see if there was somewhere she could go, maybe a restaurant or any other establishment with a loo. When she couldn’t find anything, she decided to drive around to see if there was a public loo nearby.
She gave up after searching for a while and parked her car near a tree, in front of a line of houses. Jenny was getting quite desperate now and almost wanted to go back to the Police Station to use the facilities but her shift wasn’t over yet.
All she could do right now, was press her shapely thighs together and hope the pressure in her bladder remained manageable until she got back to the station.
Half an hour passed, leaving Jenny’s bladder bursting at the seams. There was still an hour left for her shift to end and she didn’t know what to do. She was regretting throwing out the coffee cups she drank from, she could have relieved herself in them. The idea would have sounded gross to her on any other day but right now, with a pressure to pee so high, anything was fine.
Her bladder throbbed and heart pounded as she turned her car towards Clifton Hill, the last area she had to patrol for the day.
-----
Jasmine accelerated her bike through the residential area and turned towards Clifton Hill. She grabbed her crotch with one hand as she rode. She couldn’t believe how badly she had to go. Hopefully, she would get to McLaren’s, a popular bar a mile away from here, before wetting herself like a little girl.
A few seconds later, it was clear that in fact, she wasn’t going to make it. Anxiously, she stopped her bike at the roadside as soon as she entered the woods.
“Fuck…!” she jumped off her motorcycle and quickly walked a few feet in, towards a cluster of trees as she unzipped her jeans and undid the button. In a swift motion, she pulled her penis out, releasing a thick gush of urine.
“Oh...” she sighed in relief but barely five seconds into her pee, Jasmine heard the siren of a police car. Startled by the sudden sound, her entire body shook in fear. She tried to stop peeing, but failed.
"Oh shit! No-no-no!", Jasmine cried out as she saw the red and blue lights of the cop car drawing quickly towards her. The vehicle stopped right behind her bike and a lady officer climbed out.
Officer Jenny quickly walked towards Jasmine, “Mam, please stop urinating in public,” she stated in a firm voice. She was initially surprised to know that this woman was a futanari just like her, but didn’t let her emotions overcome her sense of duty. In fact, watching her pee so openly only intensified her own need to go.
“Y-Yes,” Jasmine said in panic as she somehow managed to stop the flow before she slid her penis back inside her panties and zipped up her jeans, “I am really sorry! I really had to go! I couldn’t hold it any longer!” she cried out before Officer Jenny could even say anything.
“I am sorry mam, but I can’t help you. Public urination is a punishable offense, you’ll have to come with me to the police station,” Jenny said as she crossed her legs a bit. She too was dying to pee but there was nowhere she could go.
“Oh no, please don’t! I really have to pee! I was just getting started when you came here,” Jasmine wailed, holding her crotch and bending on her knees as she stood there, helpless.
Ignoring her pleas, Jenny quickly snapped the bracelets of a pair of handcuffs around Jasmine’s wrists.
"What the hell are you doing?" Jasmine demanded indignantly, momentarily ignoring the frantic pleas for her bladder to allow it relief. "I'm not a criminal."
“Please get inside the car…”. Jenny stated firmly as she pointed towards the vehicle.
“Oh, please no…,” Jasmine pleaded. She groaned aloud as a bladder spasm made her inner sphincters relax in an effort to release her pee, leaving only the outer sphincter to staunch the flow.
“Mam please, you are wasting my time!”, Jenny said sternly, crossing her legs together as pulled the waistband of her pants slightly away from her swollen bladder.
Seeing no way out, Jasmine walked towards the Police car and stood there for a second before Jenny opened the door for her.
"Please," Jasmine whined again. "I'm about to pee in my pants."
"Get inside the car!," the cop repeated.
Jasmine couldn't believe what was happening to her. She was standing on the side of the road, her arms locked in handcuffs, being forced to get inside a police car when was about to uncontrollably wet herself. Why couldn't this policewoman understand that she was absolutely bursting to go to the bathroom? How could she do this to her knowing how desperate she was to pee? It was inhumane!
Somehow, Jasmine willed herself to get inside the car. She crossed her legs as soon as she was seated and closed her eyes tight. She had to pee so badly that she almost wanted to tell Officer Jenny to take her to the Police Station without further delay, so she could use the toilets there. But she kept quiet.
She knew there was no way she was going to make it. So Jasmine just squeezed her cock between her thighs in a last ditch effort to keep her pee in and waited for the Officer to get inside the car and start driving.
Jenny closed the door to the back seat of her Police car. She crossed her legs tightly as she stood there for moment, squirming. She had to pee so bad that it felt like she would lose control and wet herself if she tried to walk. But she couldn’t let that happen. She had to hold it, no matter what.
Mustering the entire reservoir of strength left inside her, Jenny somehow walked around the car and opened the door to the driver’s seat. She gave her crotch a quick squeeze before she sat in. But as she turned the key towards ignition, a quick spurt of pee ran out of her penis and dampened her panties.
“Oh, no!” Jenny moaned as she jammed a hand into her crotch in a desperate attempt to hold on.
She turned to see Jasmine on the back seat, who was withering in agony and desperately trying to save herself from having an accident.
At that point, Jenny knew that she had to hurry or both of them were going to wet themselves inside her car.
She turned her car back around and floored the gas pedal, pressing her cock between her thighs all the while.
“Please, I can’t hold it any longer…” Jasmine whined.
“Please remain silent, mam,” Jenny said. Jasmine’s continuous banter about how badly she needed to go was only making things worse for the Officer.
Jasmine snapped her mouth shut and stared at her lap, disparaged. A quick spurt of urine escaped, and her underwear felt uncomfortably damp.
Helpless, she started to cry.
As she drove, Jenny looked through her rear view mirror and saw Jasmine weeping with her head down. Her legs were crossed tightly together and she had a hand jammed deep inside her crotch.
“I am sorry for your inconvenience mam, even I have to go to the bathroom. Just try to hold it a little while longer, I’ll get you to the Police Station as soon as I can,” Jenny said, trying to give some glimmer of hope to her detainee.
Jasmine didn’t answer, but held herself as tightly as she could. She couldn’t even spare the energy to talk. She willed everything she had into clenching her muscles, but her entire body was now trembling with exhaustion. Then suddenly, a long, hot stream of urine started flowing out of her cock to make its way towards her lap, creating a wet patch on her jeans. Jasmine cried in agony, but she couldn't do anything; she was peeing in her pants.
The wet patch quickly grew to her knees as she tried with everything she had to stop the flow, but failed. There was no stopping it any longer.
“Just 10 more minutes mam,” Jenny said as she turned her head towards her passenger for a moment and then, she realized what was happening. “Aw, shit!” she exclaimed as her eyes registered the glistening wetness on Jasmine’s pants.
Hearing those words, Jasmine broke down in sorrowful breathless sobs and buried her face in her hands.
Jenny’s heart broke for the poor woman but there was nothing she could do to help her now. She kept driving straight, holding herself between the legs with her free hand.
“Mam please, it’s alright, it’s just an accident,” Jenny begged from the front seat, desperate to calm her down. Jasmine didn’t respond. She just kept crying, paying no attention to the policewoman’s words. She could barely feel her legs now, just a stream of pee rushing out of her. Urine was beginning to pool on the seat beneath her and she could feel the ever-growing wetness down her jeans.
“I’m so sorry, mam,” Jenny pleaded, “This was my fault, I shouldn’t have been so dismissive. We’ll just get you cleaned up at the Police Station, don’t worry…”
Jasmine didn’t care about what the Officer was telling her. She just sat there, wetting herself in the back seat of a Police car, like a small child. After going on for another minute, her torrent of pee finally slowed, before it ceased entirely. She continued to sob in fear and humiliation as the car sped along the road.
Jenny could hear the cries coming form the back seat. She couldn’t believe that Jasmine had wet herself in her patrol car but more than that, she was worried about her own need to pee.
Holding herself wasn’t helping any more. A few more drops of urine escaped and dampened her panties even further. Her head was filled with images of Jasmine wetting herself on the back seat of the car and it was only intensifying her need to go. She knew by then that she wasn’t going to make it back to the Police Station without having an accident. They were still in the woods and there was still a little distance to cover.
Bravely, she drove on for a few more minutes. Her pee was right on the edge of shooting out any moment now but she forced herself to focus on the road. Then suddenly, a thick jet of piss escaped her, compelling to her the grab her crotch tighter as she immediately braked the vehicle on the roadside and jumped out.
Grabbing her cock in a final attempt to contain herself, she undid her belt, opened the button of her pants, pulled her zip down, slid her panties aside and pulled out her aching cock before pee exploded out of her.
Jenny held the car’s hood with one hand for support, as her body finally eased out after holding it for so long.
Urine literally poured out of her in a torrent. The sound of piss colliding with the blanket of dead leaves on the ground was loud enough to stir anyone awake from a deep slumber.
Her moans of relief were so loud that they could have been heard from two blocks away. Jenny felt her knees about to give out to the surges of relief that were flowing through her shivering body, as she just stood there, peeing endlessly.
She looked down and saw the river of clear urine gushing out of her cock. She couldn’t believe just how much was coming out of her. This was by far, the most she had ever peed.
The relief was absolutely amazing, unbelievable, mind-blowing.
When Jenny was finally done, she slid her cock back into her panties and closed the button of her pants before pulling up her zipper. She placed a hand on her now deflated bladder, oh it felt so good to have let all that out. She saw a wet spot on the crotch of her pants, which she knew, was made by her small involuntary release in the car.
She looked around to see if someone had noticed her but luckily, there was no sign of a living soul anywhere in the area.
She walked around her car and opened the driver’s door. She peeped in to find tears rolling down Jasmine’s cheeks as she sat on the back seat, flaring with anger.
“You arrested me for peeing in public, you made me wet myself on the back seat of your stupid car and then you get out here and pee like there’s nothing wrong with it? Do you think I will let you get away with this?” Jasmine barked in fury, “I’ll report you and I will sue your entire fucking Police Department for everything you have.”
Jenny opened the back door and leaned in. It was for the first time that she was getting a full view of the damage done by Jasmine’s accident. Although she didn’t say anything, she was shocked at the amount of wetness on the back seat and on Jasmine’s clothes too. She wondered how long Jasmine might have been holding it to have an accident that size.
“I am sorry, I really couldn’t hold it any longer and I am really really sorry for what happened to you…” Jenny said apologetically.
“Do you think a stupid ‘sorry’ can fix this?” Jasmine said, trying to suppress her sobs.
Jenny didn’t reply. She just got back behind the wheel and turned her car back around, before driving back to the spot from where she had arrested Jasmine. She stopped her car near Jasmine’s stranded bike and told her to step out.
When she climbed out, Jenny undid the handcuffs on Jasmine’s wrists, “You are free to go, I know it was my mistake. I should have listened to you when you told me you had to pee. I am sorry. But please don’t report me to the authorities! I really had to go the bathroom, I hadn’t been all day, I am really really sorry for whatever happened! Please just don’t tell anybody about this,” she pleaded.
Jasmine didn’t reply. She just stood there, massaging her wrists and looking at Jenny in anger and annoyance.
“Here, keep it,” Jenny said as she shoved several dollar bills in Jasmine’s hand, “I guess that will be enough for a new dress.”
Jasmine counted the money, it was quite a bit of cash, enough for her to last out a week.
She wiped her tears and looked at the Officer who stood before her, clearly vulnerable and helpless. Although she felt like hurling profanities at Jenny, she decided that she could do the other way.
“Fine, I won’t report you,” Jasmine said as she turned around and started towards her bike.
At last, they both made a brief eye contact before driving off in opposite directions.
When Jasmine reached home, her boyfriend asked her about her wet clothes and she told him the entire story. Although they both took it lightly, Jasmine just hoped something like this would never happen to her again. |
Hey everyone, big time fan of the site but I've never really taken the time to sit down and write something before. Please feel free to tell me what you think, and I hope you enjoy it.
========================================
Alison clenched her thighs together once more and looked at the clock. Only five minutes had passed but it seemed like hours. In a panic about the exam, she had spent every second before studying. Usually she was calm and prepared, but this was Chemistry, the one result that truly matter if she was going to get in to medicine. At eighteen, she was looking forward to moving to University and had already received an invite to one of the best Universities in the country; although it was far away from home, she figured she was an adult now and she would get used to. Few people in the year aspired to her heights, and there were fewer than thirty people in a year of a hundred students taking the exam. Alison was one of the best students in the class, as she was in all her classes, but even she had panicked about this one. This was the written exam, and every last detail had to be right. She had spilled over pages of notes while drinking an energy drink, getting a rush of energy to fuel her through one of two hour exam. As she opened the paper, along with everyone else in the room, she quickly skimmed through the paper and felt a sense of relief, certain that there was nothing too tricky in it. This was quite premature, as she noticed around 20 minutes in that her bladder was rapidly filling. She chewed on her pencil and tried to focus, but her mind kept wandering back to the fullness of her bladder.
Still chewing on her pencil, she continued to answer the questions. She was careful to write out each of the main arguments she wanted to make for each one, as her mind was still wandering back to her problem. It was best not to worry and focus, but she knew that that her situation would keep jumping to the forefront of her mind. Even in her rising panic she was making sure that she could get back on track as quickly as possible. The exam was notoriously difficult, with many students finding it hard to finish it in time. She needed every second she could get. She had a natural ability for writing quickly and coherently, but even she was worried by the closeness of some of the practice tests she had done. The energy drink was an irregularity she hadn’t prepared for, something she took in a nervous moment. Even if she had made sure to get the toilet before the exam, she wouldn’t have given herself this extra burden. She cursed herself twice, for not preparing properly and for allowing her bladder to take over her thoughts again.
Since the class was so small, everyone was at least on talking terms. Despite being difficult, it was quite a fun subject. Each of the students were ambitious and intelligent, although they were still teenagers. Many of the boys, and even a few of the girls, found Alison quite attractive, and rightly so – she was good-looking in a girl-next-door kind of fashion. She was average height and build, curvaceous and with B cups that complimented her figure perfectly. Her medium length brown hair was generally tucked in behind her hair and the fantasies of the teenagers often flashed to her pushing that lock of her back into place. Still, despite so many interested parties, Alison had chosen to focus on school. She still had friends, actually quite a few, and was well known for the many extra-curricular activities she took part in.
Her mind had wandered back to her bladder and, without thinking, her hand had went to her crotch. Alison’s hands pushed the royal blue of her school uniform’s skirt into her pussy, and she felt her face turn red as she quickly glanced around to make sure no-one had caught her embarrassing moment. Thankfully, everyone was completely focused on the exam, many of them with their faces screwed up in concentration. With a startle, she shifted her eyes back to her own exam. Her face still red, she took off her black blazer and put it on the ground, loosening her tie and undoing the top button of her white blouse. The thin material hinted at her pink bra, which matched her panties. Alison would never admit to this sort of silly superstition, but she always felt luckier when she wore this set of underwear. She really hoped they would bring her luck today.
Another question was done, and she allowed herself to glance at the clock on the wall, under which the teachers sat. She saw that another half hour had gone by, and she was happy to see that she was pretty much on schedule, maybe even a little ahead of where she needed to be. She thought briefly about asking the teachers if she could pop out to the bathroom and relieve herself, although she was sure they would say no. They didn’t want to enable a way for people to cheat, although there was little chance of that. More than that though, she didn’t want to draw attention to herself. Picking up her blazer, she put it over her lap as another spasm hit her bladder. It was getting bad. Still, she put her mind back on the exam – her plan now was to finish the exam as thoroughly as possible, really concentrating and making sure she got every point down. Then she could risk asking to be excused, and would feel secure knowing she had finished to the best of her ability.
It was another while before she felt her bladder twitch. Feeling her face get red again, she reached under her blazer in a subtle a manner as possibly, planning to hold herself – although the thought filled her with shame, she hoped the covering blazer would hide her actions from the other students. She really didn’t want anyone to see her acting like such a child – gossip spread quickly among the small school and, although she might pretend not to care, she didn’t want people to laugh at her. She moved her hand slowly towards her pussy, inching closer – then a loud voice shouted out, “Half an hour left!”
She hadn’t been expecting that. Her face turned beetroot as a spurt of pee escaped her pussy, dampening her pink panties. Although it wasn’t a massive slip, she could feel the warm wetness of her crotch and her mind raced in a panic. Moving her hand quickly to her crotch, she let out a quiet groan as she realised she just made it more likely that the wetness would soak through on to her skirt. Although she had never tested it before, she was almost certain that the material wasn’t waterproofed from the inside. Squeezing her pussy despite knowing this, she forced herself to calm down. The announcement meant that the exam was almost over and she hoped, really hoped, that she could make it the rest of the way through without incident. Before getting back to the exam, she had a quick glance around; everyone was still writing. Looking at her paper, she saw she was on the last question – an essay that would take up the whole half hour. Her bladder was taking up more and more of her focus but she shuffled in her seat and pushed on through. The wetness in her crotch cooled to her body temperature and she tried to ignore it.
Looking at the clock, she put down her pen. Ten minutes were left. At least she was done, but now she had nothing else to focus on other than her bladder. Her swollen stomach was pushing against the elastic of her skirt, making things much more urgent. She jiggled her legs and begged for the time to go by. Again, she thought about asking the teachers but she realised by looking around that a few other people were starting to finish and she reasoned that they wouldn’t want to let any students go this close to the end for fear of causing a stampede of people who “needed the bathroom”. As she thought about this, her mind must have lingered on the thought of the toilet too long. A spurt shot out past her clenched pussy, and tears started forming in her eyes as she felt the wetness spread further up her crotch, and onto to her ass. It was definitely going to start soaking through, so she forced herself to at least let go of the front of the skirt to make it only show on the back. At least then she would have a chance of hiding it, tying her blazer around herself and moving quickly after everyone had filed out. She thought about the inevitable crowd of people that would gather outside, talking about how they did in the exam, but knew that if she was covered she could just quickly move through and hope for the best. It wasn’t the greatest plan but it was made out of panic.
The minute hand slowly crept around to the hour. She had made it. The supervising teachers got up and shouted, “Okay, everyone, pens down! That means now!” and people started to mill towards the exits. Watching others get up, her soaked panties seemed to cling to her in a way she couldn’t ignore. She knew that if everyone didn’t leave quickly, and by that she meant right now, then this about to become far worse. She thought about what everyone would say, how they would laugh – she would leave a legacy at the school as the final year student who pissed herself. She shifted and felt the wetness shift too. She worried again about how big the wet spot would be on her skirt.
She came back to the room to notice something was wrong. Not all the students were leaving. Tears welling in her eyes, she realised something. A hitch. Some of the pupils got extra time on the exam, usually due to dyslexia or something similar. Fuck. She hadn’t thought on that.
Another spurt escaped, and she clenched with all her might. The teachers would be coming around soon, asking her why she hadn’t left. People would find out what had happened.
In a panic, she let loose. Her panties become resoaked in pee, and quickly spilled over on to her skirt. Mortified, the pee leaked out of her. She couldn’t stop it. There was a very light hiss but thankfully no-one was close enough to hear it. But, she realised snapping out of her shock, that the plastic seat would only hold so much liquid. Soon it would spill over.
She made a decision to try and get up. But she couldn’t stem the flow. Her legs had turned to jelly. She put her head on the desk, covering them with her arms. Soon she heard the sound of pee leaking from the seat onto the floor, and she started to gently weep. Over the sound of the pee, she could hear a few gasps and murmurs, gossiping teenagers only too eager for this juicy bit of news. She had wet herself. Soon everyone would know.
A concerned teacher came over and whispered, “Is everything okay Alison?” Even though the teacher was trying to be quiet, his words seemed to echo to her, spreading so that everyone could hear. There were only around six students left in the room, and they all looked over. More than one giggled, while others just felt bad for her. She wasn’t a bad person, she didn’t deserve this. As quietly as she could, she whispered back, “I.. I’ve had an accident.” Further laughing was evidence enough that she hadn’t whispered quiet enough. The teacher quickly helped her to her feet, and she noticed immediately that everything was completely soaked. She couldn’t hide that from anyone. Tears fell fast as she thought about all the kids, many of them younger, who would laugh at her and talk about her as a joke for years to come. The teacher gather her bag, grabbing her blazer from her but letting go quickly once he realised it was wet. He sympathetically put an arm around her, and led her out the exit as little bursts of laughter followed her. More than one of those taking glee in her embarrassment was turned on by what they saw, but they covered this with taunting. Later one, when they reflected on it, it would be all that they thought about. For now, it was funny gossip.
By some small mercy, another teacher had moved the rest of the students away from the gym where the exam was being held. The teacher led her up to the main office, where only the school secretary was sitting. As the teacher explained what had happened, she noticed a small glimmer of laughter appear on the secretary’s face. She was only in her mid-20s herself, and the pain struck deep with her as Alison turned away from the secretary, who was covering her smile with her hand.
“No problem, we should have spare clothes you can change into. Here, take this plastic bag for your… dirty things. Here, I’ll get you somewhere to change.”
The secretary knocked on the door of the vice-headmaster’s office, who opened it with eyes raised. It was obvious what had happened when she saw the state of the final year student, a wet spot starting at her crotch and all the way down the front of her skirt, grey socks soaked and barely holding back tears.
The teacher quickly exited, and allowed her to use the office to change. As soon as she was alone, Alison allowed herself to cry deeply. She had needed to do that. She started taking off her soaked things, still standing near the door. She started with her shoes, throwing them into her bag. Then her socks, which she used to wipe down her thighs. Next she took offer her skirt, stuffing it in with the rest. She came to her panties and the tears took over her again. She peeled them off, wiping her pussy with them. She thought about how this all seemed like a bad dream. It was even a slight fantasy she had had once or twice, humiliating herself in front of the people that respected her so much. Taking the pile of spare clothes that the secretary had handed her, she realised with a cringe that the panties they had given her were obviously meant for someone far younger. They didn’t expect seniors to piss themselves. Accidents do happen though.
She was teased about it. When she came back to school the next day, giggles followed her everywhere. The whole school knew. They even made a joke about it during the final year leaving assembly, some of the meaner kids putting a slide in the traditional fake awards show that she was “Most Likely to Get a P in Her Exam Results”. She cringed, a feeling she was getting used to. She got over it though. Her results came back and, although she wouldn’t like to retry it, she almost smirked as she thought about how needing to pee had made her brain work in a hurried but focused way. Alison moved away to the University of her dreams, glad to put all that childishness behind her and start with a new image; the grown-up adult ready to compete with other intelligent young people and train for one of the most difficult jobs around. She just hoped no more accidents would ruin her image. |
Part 1 Mason knew that it was probably too late in the semester to begin posting flyers on the campus billboard for cheap rides to places in order to earn cash before winter break. It was already a few days before school would let out for vacation.The requirements of senior classes and university term papers are so rigorous that one barely has time to do invest in themselves or anything else as soon as the semester is about to roll over. Nevertheless, he had to find some way of income by Christmas time to get away from his parents for the holidays. Offering cheap rides to other students for winter break seemed a bit sketchy to him but the holiday demand was sure to elevate his financial plan to success. Mason was eager to get away from his parents to leave and visit his grandfather for the season.
He promised Mason a generous inheritance soon before he graduated college next year to help him get on his feet and a place to stay. Mason was in his 4th year of studying to become an electronics engineer and preparing to work for his father's pharmaceutical industry. He was 22 and didn't want to work with his dad whom he felt to be unnecessarily hard on him academically. Anything to get away from home after graduating college, get an apartment and maybe even find a girlfriend would be his ambition. If only it were more of a reality. Mason walked up with the plain black and white tear-off flyer to the bulletin board in the main college lounge where other student advertisements were sloppily posted and displayed and posted it toward the center next to another student's advertisement about essay correcting. He didn't have time to make his flyer attractive, reading "$45.00 RIDES AVAILABLE TO LOCATIONS 150 MILES WITHIN PORTLAND CITY" with his contact information displayed on the tear-off strips below.He walked away from the board, stuffing his books in his laptop bag while glancing outside the large windows at several feet of snow that rested on the campus and surrounding pine trees as if it were a white blanket that covered earth. "We're expecting 3 more feet by Sunday!" A man said in a chipper tone as he stood next to Mason sipping his coffee and staring outside the window. "Yeah, if only we didn't have to drive in it, it'd be quite a beautiful sight to behold." "Oh boy, You're telling me! Let's hope the flights aren't cancelled by next week! My wife and I have a lot of traveling to do this season! It was already Thursday evening. Mason looked up at the falling snow through the glass and released an inaudible sigh. He adjusted his glasses and glared at the ground in seemingly deep thought for a moment. He then looked up and said, "Well, take care Mr. Simon," waved and walked outside to his car with his bag. Mason stretched on his gloves and hat which were stuffed in his brown coat jacket and began to brush the snow from the side view mirrors of the car. The snow had gathered 2 inches on top of his car since he was in class that morning. He drove a silver 1999 Chrysler 300M that he'd gotten for fairly cheap on his 16th birthday. He kept it in very good shape and it had decent mileage. He drove home on the main road that night and thought to himself as he reached home and prepared for his last heavy night of term paper writing for his biology class that was due tomorrow afternoon. --- The next morning, Mason woke up to a new text message on his phone as he got ready to head out. He opened it: "Hi, I saw your ad on the board at campus. My name is Alyssa and I need a ride to Shelton, Washington by 5am Saturday morning. I'm willing to pay $50.00 in cash. Can you do this?"He replied to her message, "Yes, I'm able to give you a ride to Shelton by tomorrow. Can you meet at the Founder's Lounge at 5pm today?" He quickly combed down his brown hair as he stood in the mirror of his bedroom and threw on a baggy green sweater and white t-shirt that was visible under his sweater along with a pair of blue jeans and brown Dr. Marten boots. He doubled his socks, wool ones, due to the below freezing temperatures outdoors. He grabbed his brown jacket and headed out the door as he acknowledged his mother a farewell who was still asleep on the couch. His father was at work that morning. He didn't care to talk to his father that often. As he got inside of his car after cleaning the snow off the vehicle, his cell phone buzzed with another message: "Ok." It said.
He put on a CD with the orchestral version of J.S. Bach's Little Fugue in G Minor as he drove to his college campus and envisioned what this girl could possibly look like or what her circumstances were. After his final class for the day, Mason walked over to the Founder's Lounge and flopped down into one of the chairs near the warm fireplace, exhausted from test taking and walking in the snow from the lecture hall. His nose, ears and cheeks were red and a small amount of snow rested on the top of his hat and shoulders which fell unto his lap as he pulled the cotton hat from his head. A rest of the snow flew unto the ground. He looked at his wrist watch and saw that it was 5:03pm. He took his laptop bag full of books from his lap and dropped it onto the floor. He looked around, not sure what she looks like or where she would be.'Maybe I could've been more specific?' Thinking to himself. Ten minutes had passed and he'd began to grow concerned and annoyed at the absence. Opening his bag and taking out his notebook and a black permanent marker, he wrote Alyssa's name on it and and ripped it out of his notebook. He gathered his belongings and stood near the fireplace holding up the paper sign as if he were standing in an airport. After a minute and a half, he eyed a slender blond girl with a red pea coat with dark brown eyes with heavy mascara who stood in the back talking to 2 other girls. He'd seen her in his psychology class but didn't know her name at the time. She immediately stopped talking to the other girls and made her way over to him. "Are you the driver?" She asked. "Yes I am. Are you Alyssa?" She glared at him quickly from top to bottom with a hint of disgust and raised one eyebrow slightly. "Yeah... You can put that sign down now." Mason quickly crumbled up the sign with his gloves on and stuffed it in his coat pocket. "So, to Shelton are we?" He said. Alyssa looked around.
"Are we the only ones going?"
"Yes." He replied. She snickered.
"I thought there were going to be other people. This is a taxi, isn't it?"
Mason was confused by her question. "Well no..." "You're a senior, right?" She said. "Yeah... Engineering major..." Alyssa took out her phone and looked at it and continued. "Look, I don't know what you're trying to pull here, but I have to get to Shelton tomorrow morning. How the hell do I even know you're going to get me there?" "I have a car with good mileage and it's never failed me once." Mason explained, "I'm prepared for any impending storms, flats and I already have the quickest route mapped out from PSU to Shelton." He pulled out a map. "It's about 2 hours and I'll be sure to get you there by no later than 10:00pm tonight so you'll be early." "Who uses maps anymore?" She said rudely. "It's not smart to always rely on technology." Alyssa thought and looked at his map and scrolled through her phone again. He could not take his eyes off of her long gold earrings. "Garnets." "What?" Alyssa replied. "Your earrings, they're garnets. The gemstone at the end. That's my mom's birthstone." "Aha... right." She replied in an uncomfortably sarcastic tone. He looked down at her long black leatherette boots in silence. She clearly didn't like him. He was not glad she did not seem to trust him or judge him so quickly. 'This is going to be a long and rough ride,' he speculated. She looked up at him. "Ok, you get me there by 10:00pm tonight and I'll pay you. I am not paying full in advance." "That's fine..." Mason said, "Don't worry about it." Alyssa's phone began to ring. She looked at it and signaled "1 minute" at Mason and took the phone call.
Mason picked up his laptop bag and slung it over his shoulder and looked outside. It was starting to get dark. He waited a moment for Alyssa to get off the phone but she continued to talk and walked over to the coffee stand and ordered a vanilla cinnamon cappuccino while speaking. He overheard her say, "Yeah... It's just one of those geeky tech club guys." To the person on the phone. Mason tapped her on the shoulder as she waited on her coffee and whispered, "I'll be outside."She looked at him and mouthed "Ok" with an annoyed and dazed look. Mason cleaned off his car and waited for Alyssa outside, studying his map again and set his thermos in the cup holder. The back seat of his car was a bit messy with extra clothes, books, soda bottles, fast food bags and electronic equipment. He discovered a blanket in the back seat and spread it over the mess to make it less conspicuous. After 20 minutes, Alyssa found her way outside and discovered Mason next to the car with the lights on waiting. "We're going in that?" She said surprisingly. Mason stood silent for a moment. "Is there a problem?" "Are you sure that's going to get us to Shelton?" "Positive." He replied. It has under 12,000 miles. "Ooh goodie." She replied sarcastically as she flipped her hair out of her face, holding her coffee in one hand and phone in the other. Mason rushed over to the passenger's seat to open the door for her. "You don't have to do that." She said. "I didn't have to, but I wanted to." Mason replied.
"Dream on." She mumbled to herself.
Mason irritatingly made his way over to the driver's seat, closed the door and adjusted his mirrors.
"Do you want me to take your coffee? There's a cup holder on this side."
"No, I got it." She replied as she held it in her purple mittens.
"Wake me up when we get there." Alyssa said as she adjusted her seat back, crossed her arms and closed her eyes and pretended to try and sleep. It was obvious that she was thinking to herself and trying hard to avoid communication.
Mason adjusted his seat and turned the ignition key. The engine spun but did not start the first time. He turned it second time. A third.
"Is something wrong with the car?" Alyssa said quickly.
Mason turned the ignition key a forth time, slowly, and the car began to start. "Nope! It happens sometimes. Just the starter." He adjusted his hat in the mirror. "It's normal."
Alyssa annoyingly sighed away her anxiety, turned her head over to her side of the window at the snow gently falling and downed the rest of her coffee as Mason pulled out of the campus parking lot and down the road. Classical music began to play from the stereo.
...To be continued.
Edited October 5, 2015 by lilly286
(see edit history) |
Part 2
Can you turn this music off? Alyssa said after 5 minutes. She loosened her seat-belt, adjusted her coat and loosened her scarf.
"Not into the arts?" Mason asked jovially.
"My grandma listens to this music. I can't see how anyone would listen to this crap."
"Well it's not--"
"And can you turn the heat down? It's really hot in here."
Mason reached over slowly while keeping his eyes on the road and adjusted the heat to a lower setting. They both sat in an awkward silence for the next 2 minutes. The silence was gripping.
Mason broke the silence, "So I'm thinking we can get on I-405 S and instead of taking I-5 N, we can take a shortcut to Thurston County and get back on route 101 to Shelton. By then it should be 7pm and It'll cut back on time and gas. It should take no more than another hour to enter Shelton." He looked over at Alyssa and she appeared to not be listening. She scrolled through her phone.
Mason clenched both of his hands on the steering wheel and watched the road in front of him. The forest of pine trees stood mightily before him blanketed with snow. The sun was setting through grey thick clouds which sprinkled large snowflakes before him, landing on the windshield as the blades slowly wiped them away. He followed the winding slippery road, entering the express way.
After about 10 minutes of silence, Alyssa looked at her phone and laughed out loud at something someone had sent her.
Mason looked over at her grinning down at her phone. She had a cute smile and she tucked her hair behind her ear to see clearly. He noticed that she still had braces. Not too many other girls had braces around that age.
"So what's bringing you all the way out to Shelton?"
She seemed annoyed at his inquiry. "Well obviously".... She paused. "I don't have a car. I'm getting away from home for vacation."
She continued scrolling through her phone in attempt to ignore him.
He was unsure if his question had caused her to feel left out. "Well that's okay, a lot of people don't have cars. I mean if you notice, a lot of people ride bikes and use public transport around campus" he attempted to assure her.
She ignored for a while. She turned off her phone and stuffed her phone in her coat pocket and looked down at her empty coffee cup.
"Here, take this." She handed him the empty coffee cup.
Mason took it and placed it down in the cup holder under his window.
She reached in the pocket of her jeans and took out a small wallet with cash neatly stored in it. She took out a $20.00 bill and handed it to him.
"This is for gas money. It should get you through until we reach WA."
Mason took the bill and thanked her.
"And wake me up when you get to the next gas station? I have to pee."
Mason paused. He looked down at the map to see the nearest exit marking.
"Looks like it's going to be about 50 minutes. I already mapped out the quickest route and filled up this morning on the way to class..."
"50 minutes?! Isn't there an exit coming up around here? And your fuel gauge is almost half way."
"It wasn't in the plan to stop but I can easily locate an exit up hill in about 15 minutes after we get off this stretch."
"Alright." She replied quietly.
"And can you turn on some music other than that old people stuff?"
"What would you like to listen to?" Mason asked mockingly.
"Anything but that." She said inflexibly.
Mason veered over the steering wheel and began watching out for exit signs. He put his arm over the passenger seat and looked back at traffic, getting over to the far right lane.
"You can control the stereo, I have my eyes on the road."
Alyssa giddily snatched off her mittens from her hands and began to turn the knob on the radio. She turned from station to station listening for something good. She intermittently paused on a commercial for a news station and continued scanning.
"Wait, stop! Turn back." Mason exclaimed.
She turned the knob back to the previous station.
Mason listened to the weather alert on the radio. The woman announcer reported, "...Bringing several inches of snow and strong winds tonight in the Northern Portland area. Eight additional inches officially reported in the Jefferson Mountains. We're seeing airport delays and we can see the visibility that will change later tonight into early morning due to strong winds. Near south-west Washington, nearly 9 inches are to be expected tonight with strong winds. Reports of power outrages in west...." "Isn't that where we're headed?" Alyssa asked.
Mason looked out at the snow falling heavily onto the window and thought to himself.
"Nah, it's not going to get that strong until later tonight. Much later. It always gets much worse around midnight."
Alyssa turned the station to an alternative rock station where "Snake Eyes" by Mumford and Sons played.
He noticed the sign for the exit coming up and drove out, reaching a gas station. It was pretty empty and he could hear the loud Christmas music playing through intercom outside. He pulled up to an empty pump and stopped the car, looking over at her. Alyssa put on her mittens, buttoned her coat and unfastened her seat-belt. They both opened the car doors at the same time and looked over at each other with a glare. Mason got out and swiped his credit card into the machine and began to fill the tank. He watched Alyssa walk into the gas station. The lights inside of the station were bright and he noticed a man with long curly black hair standing behind the counter. There was one other person in the gas station shopping for oil. The snow had begun to fall heavily and pack its way onto the windows. Mason stood and watched as a snow plow made its way down the street.
After the filling the car with fuel, he went back inside of the car, cleaned the fog from his glasses with the sleeve of his coat and checked the map. After 3 more minutes, Alyssa walked out of the gas station opened the car door and got in.
"Those bathrooms are really disgusting." She was irate and her hair sparkled with snowflakes in it through the car dome light.
"There's no soap. Do you have any hand sanitizer?" She asked Mason, rubbing her bare hands together to build warmth.
Mason opened the dashboard over her and searched. He reached over his seat and rummaged through his embarrassingly messy junk pile in the back seat.
"I'm sorry, I don't..."
"Great." she said sarcastically and wiped her hands on the car seat and buckled her seat-belt. "Let's just get back on the road so I can get to my cousin's house."
Mason brushed off the snow from his coat and turned the ignition key one time to which the car failed to start. He turned it again. A third time. A fourth.
"I swear you need to get that thing fixed." Alyssa said firmly.
He turned the key a fifth time. "C'mon"..... he said to himself. A sixth. Alyssa stared out the window next to her at the falling snow in disbelief. The car started after the seventh turn. "I Bet my Life" by Imagine Dragons began to play on the radio. Mason turned it down a bit at the chorus and looked at her. She had a lot on her mind, it showed on her face.
Mason buckled his seat belt and pulled out of the gas station and onto the wet slippery road and made it back out onto the expressway. The quick unexpected stop made him a bit confused as to where he was supposed to be headed now. He glared down at the map in the dark while watching the road trying to find the next planned exit. After 15 minutes of driving, Mason took a turn down what he believed to be the ramp to Route 101. There was heavy construction ahead from the snow damage on the road to where sections were blocked off to get onto the route. Traffic was packed ahead.
"Okay, it looks like we are going to have to take a right here and then get onto route 101 to avoid all of this traffic."
Alyssa pretended to not be listening as she sat leaned back in her chair and chipped the coral red nail polish from her thumb with her index finger and listened to the radio.
Mason took a sharp right turn into the exit to avoid the construction and get back onto the right route. The exit had few streetlights and appeared to be a winding back-road with a forest of coniferous trees. They followed the strange empty road for 15 minutes into the snow until Alyssa broke her silence.
"Where the hell are we?"
Mason looked down at the map and tried to pinpoint their road.
"It's a back-road. We're just avoiding that traffic pile back there."
"Well, I haven't seen a car out here for ages."
"Relax." Mason replied. "The exit to route 101 is right on the other side of this road."
The snow began to pile out in the long winding road after several minutes as the snow storm kicked up. The winds blew furiously and made it almost impossible to see out. Mason slowed down immensely. "Oh man..."
"Is everything okay?" Alyssa asked with deep worry in her voice. He sat silently trying to fight through the storm until the heavy snow built up and impacted the tires which became barely immovable. He pulled out of the road slowly under a row of pine trees and hit the accelerator.
"Sh-t."
"What is it! Are we stuck?!" Alyssa exclaimed.
Mason aggressively floored the accelerator pedal several times in hopes to get the car to start. The vibrations from the loud engine whirring in the deep snow however caused the snow which was packed on the pine trees above them to collapse unto the car with loud THUD, covering the car entirely in what appeared to be several feet of snow.
"Oh my God!" Screamed Alyssa. "We're stuck?! We're f---ing stuck?!"
"Well I can get us out! We just have to wait out the storm."
"Oh my God!" Alyssa frantically tried to open the door after the mound of snow fell on top of the car. She pulled the lever several times and pushed her weight against the door. "I can't get out!"
Mason turned on the dome lights and checked if the doors were indeed unlocked and tried to get out. He could not force his way out of the vehicle on his side either. Only the top of the windows were barely visible, into the darkness.
...To be continued.
Edited October 5, 2015 by lilly286
(see edit history) |
Part 3
Mason unstrapped himself from the seat and frantically attempted to open the door of the car without any accomplishment. Pounds of snow surrounded the car and anchored itself as it was packed heavily underneath the car and surrounding doors, only causing it to impact with every push and prod . He stood up from his seat and climbed over to the back row of the car to attempt to open the doors on both sides to no avail. Alyssa cried in distress from the passenger's seat. He climbed back over to the driver's seat and put the car in reverse, then drive in pursuit to loosen the grip of the snow from wheels and accelerate. He performed this about 10 times, still to no success.
"I can't believe we're actually stuck! How could you!" Alyssa cried, her eyes welling up with tears and face red with anger and peril. "Get me outta here!"
"It's ok! We'll just call for help." Mason took out his phone and opened it. He glanced at the top of the screen and noticed the red "X" on top of his signal icon. He tried to make a call to the security authorities anyways. A recording was on the other line informing him that service was not available.
Alyssa overheard the voice recording and glared at Mason with acute anger. "What did they say?"
"Looks like there's no service out here on this part of the road." Mason explained.
"What the actual f---". Well my service plan is with Verizon, I'll get us out of here."
Mason closed his phone and stuffed it in the pocket of his jeans and swore under his breath. Alyssa unlocked her phone with the swipe of a finger. As she was about to access the dial pad, her phone powered off.
"SH-T!" She exclaimed at the top of her lungs.
"What!?"
"My battery is dead!"
"Why didn't you charge it?"
"Because I wasn't planning on getting stuck out here in the middle of no where with you! My charger is in my suitcase."
"Yeah, well your suitcase is in the trunk."
Alyssa shook her leg and looked out at the black window with a sheet of snow that sparkled through the inner lights of the car. She inhaled shakily and exhaled with a whine as if she were about to cry. She looked down and thought to herself. A tear quickly formed and ran quickly down her cheek and onto the sleeve of her coat. She sniffled, balled her hand into a fist and hit the door of the car violently.
"It's ok. At least we still have heat." Mason tried to reassure her.
"Just keep blowing the f---king horn until some comes to rescue us" Alyssa mumbled dreadfully.
Mason pressed the palm of his hand to the center of the steering wheel and blew the horn in 5 second intervals over and over.
"I can't f---king believe this." Alyssa said. "This is all just a bad dream. Tell me this is a bad dream."
Mason was silent and continued blowing the horn.
Alyssa unbuckled herself from her seat and sat on her right leg.
"This is all your fault."
"My fault!" Mason raised his voice and looked over at her. "We wouldn't be in this sh-t if you didn't have to stop at that gas station!"
"Me?! You're the one with that stupid f---ing paper map, Mr. 'Technology is not to be relied upon.'"
"It wasn't the map, it was the construction! And this stupid storm."
"And you just had to take some other route to avoid traffic."
"I was trying to get you there sooner so I wouldn't have to deal with your bitchy attitude! You're not making this easy, Alyssa!"
"It's still your fault. If I die, it's your fault."
Mason twitched at the concept.
"Look, no one's going to di--"
"--I knew I shouldn't have pitched this ride with you! What the hell was I thinking?"
Mason stopped pressing the horn and sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck and thought to himself. Alyssa curled her knees up to her chest, buried her head in her lap and let out a small cry.
The two sat in silence for a few minutes and kept to themselves. Mason continued blowing the horn for help.
"We have food to last us all night. We can just sleep through the night and pray that someone will find us in the morning" Mason said.
Alyssa ignored and sniffled softly.
Mason looked at his wrist watch. It was 6:47pm. It seemed to be much later.
"Can you stop blowing that horn now? It's driving me crazy."
"How else are we supposed to get help, Alyssa?"
"I don't think we're going to get any help in this storm."
Mason sighed and sat to himself. He then reached behind the car seat and looked for some food. The snow had begun to fall even heavier outside and the ice crystals hit the glass violently in the powerful wind. He rummaged through bags and clothes and came across a stale bag of BBQ potato chips and a jar of trail mix that was 3/4ths eaten.
"We'll be out of here by tomorrow, Alyssa. Someone's bound to come and see us."
Alyssa continued in her silence.
Mason opened the bag and offered Alyssa the chips. She looked at bag and turned her head away toward the window. He took a few broken pieces between his fingers and chewed them and rolled the bag up.
"You know we're probably going to be here all night. Don't you think it's just best to just try and get along?"
"What are you talking about?" Alyssa said bitterly.
"You judge me before you even know me! What fairness is in that?"
"You're a f--king geek! Why would I want to try and get to get along with you?"
"A geek? What's your problem?" Mason groaned.
Alyssa rubbed her nose with her glove and thought for a bit.
"Alright. I'm sorry, okay? Now let's please try and get out of here." She said.
Mason arched his spine and looked under his seat at a red crowbar. He jiggled it from under his seat and held it next to him in his gloves.
"I'm going to break the windows with this, okay?"
Alyssa nodded.
"Cover your face unless glass gets everywhere."
Alyssa covered her face with her mittens and watched him through the threads as he stood on his seat and carefully banged the glass window with the crowbar.
"Wait!" Alyssa proclaimed.
"What is it?"
"What if you break the glass... and no one's out there? We won't have any heat! We'll freeze!"
Mason paused and thought for a moment.
"That's just a risk we're gonna have to take. They're certainly not going to find us under all this snow." Mason continued to bang open the window gently.
Edited October 6, 2015 by lilly286
(see edit history) |
Part 4
Frozen glass and a light sheet of snow began to shatter and fall to the ground and onto the car floor as the crowbar busted its way through the car window. Mason, crouched with his shoes on the seat began to push the remaining peripherals of class through to the ground with his gloves carefully. Alyssa sat and watched with her arms crossed, hugging herself from the sudden gush of wind and ice that made its way into the car, icy flakes of snow brushing her face.
They both made affixed eye contact and looked over at the broken window behind Mason. Alyssa mentally shrugged off her doubts and tightened her scarf around her neck to break the cold.
"Want me to help you out first?" Mason asked Alyssa in a calm and broken voice from the instant chill that hit is body.
Alyssa sat up from her seat and climbed over the gear lever in the middle of the vehicle, her leg which had fallen asleep from sitting for so long was now tingling from the sudden re-position. She rested her foot on Mason's seat, her boot briefly hit part of his leg as he helped lift her over his lap and climb out through the window. Mason had not been so close to a girl physically since he was in the 5th grade. He could smell her light perfume as it whisked through the heavy wind outside them, or was it some kind of shampoo? He couldn't tell, but he cherished the moment.
"Careful..." He urged her.
She paused as she was about to make her way out. "There's still some glass in the window, I don't want to get it in my hair."
"Hold on." Mason said as he pushed the remaining pieces of glass that were stuck through the window. It crushed as it broke away through is gloves.
Mason stood up in his seat, holding Alyssa by the waist with both of his hand to help her climb out. Without concern, Alyssa climbed over him, leaving foot prints on the arm of coat as she used it as a lever to climb out of the broken window. She looked around as her had reached out the window like a curious dog hanging with its head out of a window. The wind violently blew through her hair in moderate gusts.
Alyssa established her foot on the bottom of the window and lifted herself up and out of the car.
"Careful not to land on the glass outside." Mason looked over to his right as she made her way out and noticed that her phone fell out of her pocket. He reached over to pick it up from the seat.
Alyssa carefully planted her feet on several inches of snow outside and brushed herself off from head to shins. The storm and fallen snow had buried the car in what seemed to be almost 2 feet of snow. She glanced around her surroundings: No working street lights were to be found anywhere on the road north of them. The only light which was available were the interior car dome lights and the strangely bright moon shining through the thick grey clouds and large falling snowflakes from the sky, as if it were watching them in their struggle through the cold night. Acres upon acres of pine trees stood surrounding them with thickly wooded forests; a mountain overshadowed in the distance. She stood quietly, taking in the new scenery in the snow as she watched Mason make his way out of the window. She felt considerably safe in the presence of Mason but was too shy to admit it for he seemed to be the kind, protective, intelligent type. Her reputation at school meant the world to her and she didn't want to ruin it by being with someone in a conflicting coterie. But they were alone.
"Do you think there's a gas station around here someplace?" Alyssa asked Mason as he struggled to make his way out of the small window, avoiding the glass below.
"Uh........ I......." Mason panted heavily as he pushed himself out of the window and planted his feet backwards on the ground outside as the broken glass and snow crunched beneath his weight. "I'm guessing..... there's..... Probably a gas station at........ at the end........ of this road.... I don't know how far it goes." He replied.
He brushed away the snow that gathered on his hair and put on his hat and looked all around him. He took Alyssa's phone and gave it to her. She stuffed it in her pocket and continued to stare into the distance up at the massive forest of trees around her. Slight worry was beginning to grip at her heart as she noticed the endless sea of trees, unknown, plowed road and darkness before her. Mason began to dig snow away near the tires and dig away around the car doors.
"Care to help get the car unstuck?" He asked her.
Alyssa stood around, a bit paralyzed with fear and thought about her bag that was in the trunk. She made her way to the back of the car only to notice several feet of snow on top of the car. She tightened her mittens down to her wrists and tried to brush off the snow for a few minutes. She was only able to make a tunnel with her hands before the freezing temperatures started to numb her fingers and hands.
"It's too much. It's cold." Alyssa cried.
"Yeah, that's snow for ya..." Mason said as a matter-of-factly.
Alyssa began to grow very frustrated.
"I need my charger."
Mason continued to dig. "There's no way to charge, I don't have a car charger."
"You don't?!" She raised her voice at him, but not so loud as she was afraid to draw attention to herself if something were in the woods.
"Not for a smart phone."
"Why didn't you tell me?!"
"You never asked."
Alyssa grunted in sorrowful rage and sat in the snow sneering at him and sniffling from the cold temperatures.
"There's no reception out here anyways. We'll have to walk. The roads aren't even plowed yet. By the way, I don't want to be out here anymore than you do. The sooner we find a station or phone, the sooner we can get out of this mess."
Alyssa sniffled. Mason got up from his knees after digging away the snow with his gloves that accumulated around the headlights and both doors and opened them both. He reached for his map and pocketknife that was in the dashboard. He pulled the car keys from the ignition and stuffed them in his back pocket. The snow crunched beneath his boots as he made his way over to the trunk and pushed off the remaining snow after 9 minutes. Alyssa walked over to help when she noticed he was almost nearing the trunk.
They combated the cold temperatures and wind to get the snow from on top of the trunk. It popped open with his car key. He retrieved a flash light that was deep his trunk and held up a thin, white cotton blanket.
"Do you want this? He offered Alyssa.
She nodded.
"Are you sure? It's very cold out here, I don't want you to freeze. If not, I can use it to patch up the broken window to keep snow from getting in."
Alyssa looked away and started to rummage through her suitcase for nothing in particular.
"We have plenty of stuff to survive through the night if we have to." Mason assured her.
He rolled his eyes away from her and secured the blanket to the window to the handle and hooks attached to the car dome. An hour had passed.
"We better get moving." Mason said. Alyssa was very cold.
"How far are we going to walk?" She asked in fear.
"Until we can find a gas station, cabin or phone I hope. If we get out too far, or get too cold, we can come back to the car and rest. There's still enough gas in the car to keep us warm so we won't freeze."
Mason seemed to know what he was doing. Alyssa felt a bit better after being in his presence longer, but the unknown still terrified her.
"What about wild animals?" She asked worriedly.
Mason sighed quickly. "There are no dangerous animals out here in this part of the country. If there are, they're hibernating during this time of the year." His teeth began to chatter from standing around for so long.
"Let's get going."
They both began walking north of the road, following the path they would have kept on if they'd continued driving, in hopes of running into a snow plow, forest ranger or other stuck cars. They walked 2 miles north together for half an hour before the blizzard began to pick up and Alyssa's frail body began to grow colder from the brutal storm. Reality quickly set in for both of them. They were indeed lost. Both of them were shivering with every step they took, forcing their legs to walk through the thick snow took a toll on their energy. Alyssa complained about the weather, Mason and fear of being killed out in the middle of no where. She was too uncomfortable to cry and too cold to continue in her incessant complaints. 100 yards beyond was an open area, adjacent by hemlocks and fed by a couple of frozen tiny streams in the open forest. Behind the creek's perimeter was a dozen pointy stumps of cut trees ringed with a frozen pond. The light of the moon illuminated all that was in their path. They stopped and stared at the pond. They listened to the constant crushing of snow beneath their boots and the falling blankets of snow from the many trees in the distance. They hiked for another hour.
"I'm really sorry about this." Mason said to Alyssa as they reached the open area and stared into it.
Alyssa sighed and looked up at him. "It's not your fault." She said.
Mason took the flashlight from his coat pocket and shined it over to the distant pond, looking for a cabin or some sort of civilization. Nothing was of the sort.
"I need to sit." Alyssa sat on the ground of snow and took off her boot and emptied the snow that had collected inside of it.
"My toes are frozen! I don't know if I can walk anymore, Mason."
He continued to scan all perimeters of the area with the light in his hand, only noticing a black forest squirrel jumping in the trees that startled him briefly. He turned off his flashlight.
"C'mon Alyssa, let's head back to the car."
---
Alyssa sat shaking the snow out of her boots and brushing the remaining snow from her socks. She tightened her boot laces and stood up, taking Mason's hand as he helped her from the ground. They started following their footsteps back.
"You gonna alright?" He asked.
She looked at him meanly. "That's a really stupid question." She responded.
"Why do you have to always belittle everything I say?" Mason asked politely.
"Here we go again." She said.
"No, I mean it. What's up with you? I'm just trying to be nice."
Alyssa was silent.
Mason paused. "Do you think you're better than me or something?"
"No...." She delayed. I'm just really frustrated being out here, lost, alone with some guy I barely even know, in the middle of now here with no phone, and no way to get home. I'm scared for my life, okay?"
"...But you were like that before we got lost."
"So." She said firmly and looked away from him, toward the ground.
They walked in silence for another 5 minutes.
"Did you grow up out in this part of the country?" He asked.
"Nope." She replied.
"I've lived in Oregon all my life." He continued. "It's my only home. Too bad the weather gets like this almost every season. It's not the worst I've seen though. Pretty bad, but not the worst. This is a first being out here in the open though. Brutal mess. You'd think growing up in this part of the county, you'd be used to it by now."
Alyssa listened and postponed talking.
"I grew up in California." She replied.
"Which part?" He asked.
"Sacramento. I'm only out here for college."
"Well you're quite a long ways away from home. What a welcome." Mason laughed mellowly.
"What's up in Washington?" He asked.
"I'm visiting my cousin. I hate spending the holidays with my dad."
Mason was unsure if he should ask about her family relations--if his questions would be considered intrusive, he was already walking on egg shells but he was nevertheless curious.
"I'm getting away from my family for the season too. That's why I'm out here driving, trying to raise money to visit my grand-father." He said.
"What's wrong with yours?" She asked.
"Nothing, I can't complain. I just want independence is all, to get a new start after graduating."
"Do you have a girlfriend?" She asked.
"No."
"Have you ever had one?"
Mason was silghtly caught off guard by her questions. "Yeah, a long time ago. It wasn't anything serious."
"What'd she look like?" She asked.
"Well, we were kids. There wasn't anything worth mentioning. Curly chocolate brown hair, dark eyes, a bit traditional the way she was raised I might say."
"Sounds like you two were a good match." She replied.
"Eh..."
"Did she dump you?"
"Well.... Not exactly. It lasted for about 2 years. We both consented."
"Ooooh, it was that bad, huh?" Alyssa laughed.
"We were kids." He affirmed.
"I'm recently getting over a break-up. He was a jerk. He plays on the football team at PSU and wound up cheating with me with some other girls. I couldn't believe it. Guys are jerks."
"Not all are." Mason replied.
"Yeah. I'm pretty sure."
"Well you kno---" Mason was about to begin refuting when a sudden loud crash sounded in the distance in front of them. Both of them stopped walking at the same time and stared over into the forests.
"What the hell was that?" Alyssa said apprehensively.
"...Sounded like a large branch fell in the woods. Probably the weight of the snow on the trees. Maybe we should keep walking." Mason adjusted his glasses and looked over.
They both started walking much faster, following alongside the road, much more alert.
Suddenly, a small swarm of house finches quickly flew out of the trees several yards ahead of them. Another crash, which resembled more of a cracking noise of someone snapping a branch by walking on it, sounded again. Both paused again and looked over into the woods. Alyssa was growing petrified.
"Hello....?" Mason called out into the forest beside them.
"Hello.................?"
Alyssa grabbed and pulled onto Mason's coat sleeve. "Come on! Let's go!" She told him firmly.
"Wait." He said. Mason pulled out his flashlight and shone it through the massive forest of hemlocks; the light created many shadows from the trees and hit, what appeared to be a giant reddish boulder in the blanketed white forest.
"Mason..." Alyssa said very worriedly.
Mason stood for approximately 15 seconds, shining the light in the forest to figure out what was ahead of them. After examining the area, he turned off his flashlight and assured Alyssa to keep walking.
Suddenly a loud, almost muffled loud yell, followed by another crash was heard in close proximity to them. Both Alyssa and Mason paused in fear and looked back. They both noticed something in the shadows advancing at them rather quickly toward them in indistinguishable movement, what appeared to be a man, wearing a dark lumberjack coat.
"Hello.....?" Mason panickingly called out. The shadows did not answer, only by making further movements toward them in the dark forest.
"RUN!!!!!!!!!" Alyssa screamed out at the top of her lungs. "He's got a knife!!!!!!!!!"
Mason shockingly and confusedly looked down the road and again, behind them and noticed someone coming toward them which he could not make out. They both began sprinting through the snow in fear, stepping on top of their previously made footprints in the snow to gain more speed. Alyssa cried as she ran alongside Mason and looked over into the woods repeatedly. The blood was loud inside of him, shot with adrenaline.
Suddenly, Mason doubted his choices, raced through the woods on the other side. He grabbed Alyssa's arm as they make their way across the snow-filled road and through the forest. Alyssa cut herself on a sharp rock as they ran, scraping through her jeans and skin.
"Owww!" She yelled at the top of her lungs.
"Keep running!" He urged her. He didn't even stop to erase signs of their passing. The footprints in the snow could be a dead giveaway he thought, but now the blood that trailed after them from the scrape would also attract some kind of possible animal. They ran for half an hour until they reached the car.
Edited October 7, 2015 by lilly286
(see edit history) |
Part 5
Their hearts were pounding. Their lungs were aching from incessantly inhaling the brutally cold air. Red-blotched faces streaking with tears. Mason stood in front of the broken down car and rested his hands on the hood of it, panting heavily, looking over at Alyssa.
"If we want to go through with this...... Now is not the time to be spotted by some psycho in the woods.... Or do we want to be found after all? Wait. No!...... Not by some crazy person out here in this stretch of the forest!" He rambled to himself.
Alyssa panted heavily with tears running down her cheeks, listening to him. She looked down her leg. Her jeans were torn at the shin and the pain began to register in her mind as she noticed the cut. She examined her scrape and noticed that it bled through her jeans a bit.
Alyssa began to cry from the stress.
"I wanna go home!" She yelled at him.
"Quiet... Get in the car." He told her.
Both of them quickly got in the car. Mason closed his door carefully. Alyssa slammed the passenger door. Mason gave her a look.
"Get down." He told Alyssa. "He might see us."
Alyssa crouched down into the seat put her hood over her head and cried softly in her arms.
"I think we lost him. Are you sure you saw a knife?" He asked.
Alyssa moved her frozen hair out of her face and sniffled. She let out a small cry. "Positive." She said.
Mason sighed sat up to look out the windows to see if he say anything. The makeshift blanket window still stood blocking out most of the cold windy air but not all of it.
"I'm not going to risk turning on the car or heater out of risk of being seen." He said. "The engine is much too loud."
Alyssa crouched herself with her knees against her chest in her seat and looked up at Mason.
"This is a bad dream..." She cried.
"I know. But we're safe for now... we're not going to go back out there until morning until we can see." He looked at his watch. It was reaching 11pm.
"Are you ok?" He asked.
Alyssa said nothing and buried her head to her knees in the seat. Mason reached over and rubbed her head gently.
"We're safe, Alylssa. I think we'll be alright. Let's just try and forget this and get some sleep until morning. Everything'll be ok. You go ahead and sleep through the night... I'll try and stay awake in case a snow plow or a car comes out on this road."
"I can't sleep like this..." She said brokenly.
"It'll make the time go by faster. It's ok, I'm here." He took out his pocket knife from his pocket. "I have this." He crouched down onto his seat and waved it in front of her. We also have a plethora of things that can be used as weapons if he comes after us. Like the crowbar and stuff."
Alyssa listened to him and started to feel a little bit safer. She wiped her face with her mittens and looked to the back of the car. Mason crouched down on the drivers seat and curled himself up and watched her. Alyssa reached for the jar of trail mix in the back of the car and opened it very gently.
"Can I have some?" she asked him sweetly.
"Sure."
She reached in and took a handful and stuffed it into her mouth. She had no appetite or energy to eat, but was instead trying to distract herself from the heavy emotions. She turned the jar over to Mason. He nodded. She took one more handful and twisted the lid back on the jar and brushed the crumbs from her mittens together.
"Try and get some sleep, alright, Alyssa? It'll be morning by no time. I promise. I'll be here." He grabbed his map from his pocket and unfolded it and started studying it by using the light from his cell phone screen after hopelessly checking for service or a signal.
Alyssa had many questions to ask Mason, but lacked the energy.
"Thank you..." She said brokenly and quietly.
Mason gave her an unsure smile and kept looking at his map. Alyssa drifted off to sleep 30 minutes later as the blowing wind and bright, calming light from the moon lulled her. Mason fell asleep an hour after.
2 hours passed into the night.
The only notable sounds to be heard by Mason as they slept were coyotes in the far distance and the collapsing of snow that fell from the trees in the forest in the distance which he'd come accustomed to subconsciously. He'd awoken intermittently to quietly quench is thirst from the now cold tea in his thermos, eat a few handfuls of the trail mix and urinate in an empty water bottle sitting under the trash pile behind the back of his seat. He was careful not to wake Alyssa as he cared for himself. He was cautious to not walk outside so much to make his presence known in case they were being stalked. He figured it was all in his head after awhile of mentally chewing on the set of circumstances through the night.
He'd thought about his mother and father, how he didn't give them a proper good-bye before he left. It seemed to be like any other day. He felt guilty for not taking advantage of the time for he didn't know what would happen that night or the next day. He'd had a plan to walk the distance they'd driven by morning and get back onto the express way with Alyssa, abandoning their car. He drew the strategy out in his head as he fell into lucid sleep from the stark mental preoccupation.
Another hour had passed into the night.
Alyssa awoke from an uncomfortable sleeping position and unpleasant dream, and looked over at Mason. She sat up a bit and looked around outside, immediately taking notice of how badly she actually needed to relieve herself. Still deathly afraid of the possible murderer outside, she did not want to go out there alone. She debated with herself but was very afraid. She tried to fall back asleep and ignore the pressure in her bladder, but it only kept her awake moment after moment as she twitched her legs. She looked around for something inside of the car to go in, but did not want to risk being seen by Mason.
She sat back down, crouched in her seat. With every moment, the need grew increasingly unbearable. She held herself and could not keep her mind from the precarious need to empty her bladder. She looked outside again, contemplating courage to dare walk outside alone only to have fear possess her mind each time she looked over into the woods. She poked Mason's arm through his coat several times with her finger in attempt to wake him.
She sat up and danced in her seat. Mason began to awaken.
"Mason? I have to pee..."
He inhaled deeply as he woke up and rubbed his eyes with his gloves. He sniffled from the cold air that was hitting him through the makeshift window.
"What?" He asked as he tried to wake himself mentally.
"I really have to pee."
He yawned into his gloves. "So, go." He said groggily.
"I can't... That.... Crazy man is out there."
Mason sat up and adjusted his hat on his head, the lobes of his ears and nose cherry red from the constant chill exposure. He slowly looked around his car and toward the back row. He reached for an empty Coke bottle with a tiny bit of liquid still inside of it.
"Here." He handed it to her.
"I can't go in that!" She said firmly.
He looked at the empty bottle and tossed to the back. He lifted his thermos that was sitting in the cup holder next to him, half filled with tea. He untwisted the cap and examined it.
"Wanna use this?" He asked.
"No. I can't pee in front of you..." She said worriedly.
He looked confused and twisted the lid back on the thermos.
"I really don't think this is a very good time to be shy."
Alyssa rubbed her eyes with her sleeve.
"Well, we'll probably need to keep this drink anyways for hydration purposes." The swishing sound of liquid as he moved the cup in his hands made her even more desperate. He secured the container back into the cup holder.
She sat and bounced her legs in the car seat, holding herself through her coat pockets and biting her lip as she stared out the window into the woods.
"So what are you going to do?" Mason asked. "Do you want me to leave?"
Alyssa thought to herself and shifted her weight to better gain control of her bladder, shaking her leg.
"No, please don't leave me." She said dreadfully.
Mason bit his thumb nail and stared at her with sleep still in his eyes, he could tell that she was desperate. He couldn't tell if the tears that were forming in her eyes were from the freezing cold or the desperation.
She whimpered. "Can you come with me over in that wooded area where it's darker? I'm scared." She asked desperately.
Mason looked out into the distance and scanned the area to see if he could spot anyone or anything around them. He sat for a minute and debated to himself whether it was a good idea to walk into the woods.
"Mason, please, I really have to go... I don't think I can hold it much longer..." She said with her eyes tearing up from wrestling with her full bladder, rocking back and forth subtly with her legs crossed.
"Alright, come on." He said.
Mason quietly opened the door and got out, shutting it loosely behind him. Alyssa struggled to open her door while holding herself simultaneously. She stood up very carefully as to not make a wrong move that would cause her bladder to lose control. The cold gust of wind immediately hit her as she got out of the car, waking her up more and causing her mind to focus better. She adjusted her scarf that was falling off and patted down her hair with her gloves.
They both walked several feet into the wooded area with the car barely in sight, surrounded by the wide gaps of evergreen trees, thick with leafless willows, alder and ferns that were hidden under the snow. The moon continued to shine brightly through the trees. The grey, reddish clouds in the sky dissipated and the stars were visible in a few places. Alyssa immediately stopped walking in front of a large evergreen to try to gain control of her bladder.
"Is here ok?" Mason asked.
Alyssa was uncomfortable having him in her presence.
"Can you go over there please? Turn around?" She pointed toward a lifeless fern whose peaked out through thick patches of snow.
Mason walked over by bracken fern, looked up at the sky and waited.
Alyssa anxiously lifted her coat as her legs automatically wrapped around each other and fidgetly started to undo her belt.
A movement down into the forest to the right behind a row of trees immediately caught both of their attention. Mason prayed that it wasn't that man who had been chasing after them. Alyssa froze with the intense fear that she physically could feel traveling up her spine.
"Hurry!" Mason whispered very loudly to Alyssa.
Alyssa's bladder was so full that she could feel it pressing against her belt. She hurriedly undid her belt and pulled down her jeans and underwear to her ankles. Shaking with fear, she crouched down into the snow with her arms hugging her legs, waiting, trying desperately to release the urine from her bladder.
Mason looked to the right and believed to have seen something in the distance. It grew very quiet, until what he assumed to be strange footsteps were heard in the snow in the distance.
"Alyssa are you done?" Mason asked firmly.
Alyssa couldn't let go; fear paralyzed her mind and sphincter muscles to the point where she couldn't release. Her bladder was so full, it was hurting.
"I can't, I'm too scared..." She cried.
Mason kept his eyes in the distance and walked backwards in order to not make eye contact with her, which he believed could embarrass her more. He waked behind her and crouched down behind her, rubbing her back as he watched the forest in the distance. He wrapped his arms around her slowly in a way to comfort and reassure her.
"It's okay," He whispered, "He's not going to get you. I'm here."
"Go ahead..." He said calmly.
Alyssa looked out into the distance and breathed heavily. She buried her head down into Mason's arms, closed her eyes and tried to go. She could feel Mason's steady breathing as he crouched down behind her, his comforting affirmation helped her to relax more. She was embarrassed, but felt extremely safe in his presence. A small finch flew out of a tree in front of them and landed on a rock. After a few seconds, her body relaxed and a few spurts of urine started to escape from her bladder, then came a long, steady stream. The sound of the stream hitting in the snow somewhat resembled that of steady rain hitting an open umbrella. She could feel the warm steam rising on the back of her legs as it hit the ground.
"There you go... That's a good girl." He told her, gently rubbing her belly through her coat.
Her bladder was so full that it took almost a minute to empty. Mason kept his eyes glued to the back of her head and into the distance in case they had to make an immediate run for it. She focused on his steady breathing to keep from tensing up with intolerable fear. A light crackle sounded in distant proximity to them from the forest. He continued to hug her in assurance from behind.
The last few trickles of pee hit the snow with a pitter-patter sound; she looked toward the ground briefly.
"Are you all done?" He asked calmly.
She replied with a softened, "yes" and pushed herself forward into the snow in order to break her position. Her mittens hit the ground, letting her coat fall behind her to conceal herself. Mason stood up behind her and brushed the snow from the back of his coat; he slowly walked in front of Alyssa and stared into the distance as she redid her pants, hoping it was a deer or squirrel that'd passed.
Alyssa stood up in the snow as Mason walked in front of her and pulled her pants up, checking to make sure she didn't get any on the fabric of her jeans. She pulled up her underwear and noticed that they were a bit damp from struggling earlier. The wet patch couldn't be seen through her jeans however. She ignored, brushed the snow off of her mittens and fastened her belt. She glanced down at the snow where she'd wet; the golden color painted the snow lightly. She embarrassingly covered it over with more snow with her boot. She was immediately drawn to Mason.
"Are you ready?" He asked her quietly?
"Yeah, you can turn around now." She said with relief.
"Hurry, let's get back." He said with slight unsettlement and worry plastered on his face.
Alyssa held onto his arm, running alongside him back to the car.
"I'm sorry that took so long..." she said.
Mason didn't say anything, he just continued running as she held onto him.
Both of them returned to the car and immediately jumped in and closed the doors behind them, crouching down into their seats in fear of being seen.
Mason rubbed his hands together to warm them and continued peering outside.
"Are we safe?" Alyssa asked.
"I hope so..." Mason panted and replied.
He looked at his watch. It was nearing 3am. Alyssa sniffled from the weather.
"Okay, we'd better get back to sleep. Do you think you'll be okay until morning?" He paused. "I'm thinking we can start heading back on I-101 early morning and ditch the car."
She looked him in the eyes and nodded, trembling from the cold.
Alyssa didn't like Mason at first, he seemed a bit scruffy and unkempt for her type, but she'd never met someone so full of compassion. He was nice to her the entire time, even when she'd given him a hard time she'd thought. 'He was nice to even lower the price, and he was only trying to get me there quicker.' Alyssa continued to dwell on herself and the embarrassing sequence of events that took place. Her face grew red and heart pattered faster the more she replayed it in her mind, but Mason was so sweet, maybe it wasn't that bad, she thought.
Mason was slightly embarrassed himself by what took place, he looked to his left and rubbed the back of his neck with his glove, attempting to play it off. Surely she'd understand. He kicked off his boots and crouched back up into his seat next to Alyssa. He turned with his back facing her, due to embarrassment and positioned himself to sleep.
"Mason?" She said quietly.
He lifted his head from the seat. "Yeah?"
"That was really sweet what you did."
Mason was silent for a while, trying to think of a reply. He'd only dream of a situation like that with such a beautiful girl. She was very cool, he'd thought. He was enjoying his time being lost out in the forest with her. Although he didn't mean to get lost, it was still one of the best times he'd thought. He knew he would be thinking about over the Christmas season, if he made it out alive and over to his grandfather's.
"Don't mention it." He said, almost in a whisper.
He thought to himself and wondered if she'd be his girlfriend. Surely not at a time like this, he'd thought. Maybe after they get out of the woods alive would he ask her. 'I'll get a chance to prove to her how heroic I am.' He thought. It was a possible plan.
After a a few moments passed, he put the key into ignition and turned it. To his surprise, it started the second time. He looked over at Alyssa who appeared to be asleep. He knew he'd sleep better with music and keep his mind off of the potential murderer that lurked outside. Perhaps if it were a murderer, they would've gotten them by now. Rational logic would confirm the idea, but fear continued to play in his head. Something was indeed following them, that he knew. He didn't want to take the risk falling into a deep sleep, but noted the treacherous walk that awaited them in the morning. He turned on his CD, not caring what Alyssa thought of is music. The disc spun inside of the car stereo as Chopin's Waltz Op. 62 No. 2 began to play softly. They both slept through the night.
Edited October 7, 2015 by lilly286
(see edit history) |
A/N: Words cannot express how happy I am to have been paid to write fanfiction for Soon I Will Be Invincible. This novel is one of my favorites, hands down, and writing for it brings me great joy.
The young super hero known as Rainbow Triumph was missing. During an impromptu battle with Doctor Impossible, she had been overpowered, subdued, and kidnapped, taken to whatever secret location he was operating out of at the moment. Though it was not take long for her to be rescued once she was found, it would still be a wait.
She really, really didn't like waiting, especially not when she was being held captive by creepy, boring, evil nerds like Doctor Impossible. She was annoyed that she had even ended up in such a situation, but she knew that was her own fault. She was too young and too new to face him alone, and when she had discovered them, she should have waited for backup. She hadn't, and this was where it had landed her.
So now she was bound by her hands and feet, spread with her back against the wall in the shape of an X, and, to make matters worse, she had to pee and terribly so. She was equipped with digital indicators of various parts of her body, and, embarrassingly enough, had one that let her know just how full her bladder was.
What was even more embarrassing, and a hell of a lot more annoying, was the fact that, for all of the implants, enhancements, and modifications done to her, the scientists who worked on her had done nothing special to her bladder. It did not have a stronger capacity than any other teenage girl, and would empty itself eventually, whether she wanted it to or not. That eventually did not seem far off, considering the meter indicated she was 72 percent full.
She fidgeted as much as she could in her restraints, which didn't do much for her condition. Hearing footsteps, she stopped, and gave her sharpest most intimidating glare to Doctor Impossible as he entered the room. He looked at her and gave a low, dull chuckle. She rolled her eyes.
“How's your confinement treating you?” he asked. Again, she rolled her eyes, and he grinned. “I suppose that's what happens when you dare trade blows with I, Doctor Impossible, when you're all alone and weak!”
Could he sound like more of a dork? As if her bladder weren't enough of a problem, she had to listen to him talk, too? She wondered if he even thought in that ridiculous voice, but a sharp pang from her lower stomach reminded her that she had much more important things to think about.
She knew with almost absolute certainty that she could not ask to go to the bathroom. It was such an overused escape ploy and he was a genius, too smart to be fooled by that, even if she weren't trying to fool him. He would not let her free for anything, but her bladder cramped with its need to be emptied.
“Now,” said Doctor Impossible, “it would be a shame if I had such an honored guest and did not take advantage of it. After all, being a new hero and all, I don't have as much information on you as I would like. I'm not the sort of man who likes to be missing information, you know.”
She watched as he searched through a drawer, returning with a needle that made his intentions very clear. Whatever he was hoping to learn about her, he was going to start with a blood sample. At the thought of that, she instinctively thought about offering a urine sample, and there was a part of her that begged for that to happen.
But no, that was just too embarrassing, no matter what the situation! She had more shame than that, and it would feel so weird and gross to offer up her pee to a mad scientist. Even thinking that phrase made her shudder.
“Afraid of needles?” he asked, misinterpreting her reaction. “I would apologize for what I'm about to do, but being sorry has never been something I'm particularly good at.” As soon as she was free, she was going to do everything in her power to break that nose of his.
She cringed a bit as he drew blood from her, but tried not to give him too much of a reaction. More than anything, she was worried about her bladder capacity, which kept going up in percentage. In what seemed like no time at all, it had grown all the way to 85 percent, and still no one had come to rescue her.
As the villain puttered around the room, fiddling with computers and medical equipment, studying her blood, she tried to concentrate on holding. The percentage was steadily increasing, and she had nothing to count on but clenching her muscles down there and, of course, it wasn't as if they had the increased strength she had pretty much everywhere else.
When the number went past ninety, she held back a whimper, and when it went past ninety five, she could not. Doctor Impossible showed no signs of noticing her, so if he did, he did not seem to care about whatever was wrong. Rainbow grit her teeth, clenching her fists as best she could. She was clearly shaking, but still, the doctor ignored her.
And then, she watched in horror as the sensor indicated she was at one hundred percent capacity, and she could feel her full, sloshing bladder start to give way a bit. Her eyes burned with tears as she put all of her strength into clenching her muscles, struggling with all her might to hold on just a little bit longer. A part of her knew that it would not do much good, as, even if she were to be freed soon, any movement would cause her to lose control, but she fought on.
It took a few moments before she fully lost control, most likely due to the fact that her sensors were not completely accurate, but she could also owe some of this to her own willpower as she fought wetting herself. But she could not last forever in this state, and soon she felt the first telltale spurts of her accident, which soon blended together into one powerful stream.
Humiliatingly enough, Doctor Impossible had just turned to say something to her when this started, and got to catch the full show. Because of the additional wastes being excreted, her urine was not the typical pale yellow color, and was instead a very neon blue. In addition to that, it was highly corrosive, which was another thing that had made her terrified to wet herself.
Her clothes began to disintegrate wherever her urine touched them. Soon, the lower half of her costume was completely gone, and the super villain at least had the decency to look away while her cheeks burned in embarrassment at what was happening. The floor was made of something strong enough to resist, and showed no signs of damage as a blue puddle formed. Her bonds were not so lucky.
Feeling the metal that held her start to melt away, her spirits lifted just a bit. At last, there was a way out! After she had her feet free, she maneuvered her feet above her head, gymnastics training coming in handy. She managed to her the bonds holding her hands wet, and broke free, just as Doctor Impossible seemed to realize that something was going on behind him.
Rainbow Triumph did not give him the chance to beat her this time, and the benefit of having the jump on him, combined with the rage at having to wet herself fueling her, she landed a solid punch that sent him to the floor. She threw another hit to render him unconscious and begin to make her way out of his lair.
She had to find her way home from here and report on what all she had seen, give information on his location and what sort of gear he had. But first, she was going to find something to cover herself.
A/N: Like I said, always a joy to write for this book, I really enjoyed this commission! |
A/N: Not really for the kink meme but sort of. It's a fill for my on prompt, I guess. I asked for omorashi, but I didn't want pairing. Still, I had this idea when I saw a different prompt (for Jon and Janey), so I ended up writing this.
It had been three nights since Jon had returned miraculously from the dead, a different man entirely, but yet the same man nonetheless. It had been three nights since Janey's life had been thoroughly shaken up, though she had tried so hard to adjust to everything, for his sake.
She still loved him dearly, even if he was so different now that she could barely recognize him when she looked at him. In her heart, she knew he was the same man, and she was slowly doing her best to accept as she had before.
He had expressed an almost immediate desire to regain their intimacy, and, though she had been afraid to have sex with her lover in his new form, she had gone along with it, because she was more afraid of his reaction if she turned him down. Of course, the Jon she knew and loved would never hurt her, and she knew there was really nothing to be afraid of, but he had power now that she could not understand and that was daunting.
And so they threw themselves into a new sort of intimacy, discovering all of the new experiences that came with his change- in fact, she oftentimes found that she enjoyed sex with Jon more now. He had said to her that he had the ability to make things perfect for her now, and she believed him.
On their third night together, he took her to bed without a word and began the ritual of undressing her, all without laying a hand on her. She had not had the chance to really prepare for their night, as he had been so hasty to get her to bed.
That would not have been a problem, but she had not been to the bathroom in quite some time and she had to pee rather badly. She knew that she should say something before it was too late, but before she could, he had already begun caressing her, tender and loving. His touch was electric, raised the hairs on the back of her neck, took her breath away.
Janey could momentarily forget the swelling pressure in her bladder as she gave in to Jon's touch. It was still somewhat foreign to her, but not unpleasant at all. She could certainly grow accustomed to it, though it would likely never grow boring. It almost made her feel guilty, how much better things felt with him lately.
She could not feel completely guilty, however, when things were as good as they were, and she lost herself in the pleasure of the moment. He had always known all the right things to do to her before; now, with this enhancement, it was better than ideal. It was better than perfect.
And then she felt a sharp throb from her bladder and remembered that she was supposed to have stopped him by now. Her need was growing worse, but Jon had already moved his hand between her legs, earning him a low moan from her. Stopping him now might irritate him, and she did not want to risk that. Not to mention, it felt so good that leaving for even a moment sounded like torture.
She steeled herself, vowing to wait this out until the end, not only to avoid upsetting Jon, but also to be able to enjoy this to the fullest. Janey could not quite place her finger on why, but things felt even better tonight than they had the previous two. Perhaps it was that she was getting more used to things, or maybe he was and could increase his performance. Either way, she felt fantastic even with the irritating pangs coming from her lower abdomen.
Jon kissed her stomach, close to enough to her bladder that even the delicate pressure caused her to fidget and whimper. She had hoped that her whimper would sound more pleasured than pained, but her lover looked up at her. It was still hard to tell the difference in his expressions, but he seemed concerned.
“Janey, is something wrong?” he asked.
For a moment, she considered telling him her problem and ending things before she took too much of a risk. But staring into his eyes like this, looking at him headlong, only served to remind her of how much more powerful he was now, and she was afraid of him again. She tried to convince herself that she had no reason to be afraid, but it was hard to believe that when she could look at him like this.
“Nothing's wrong,” she lied quickly.
“If you're sure,” he replied. Like his expression, his voice was hard to read, and she could not tell just how much she had convinced him. She knew that he knew things that other people did not; that he saw the world differently, experienced all time simultaneously, saw his future, but the concepts still confused her and it made her wonder if he already knew the problem.
Either way, he returned to the task at hand and she returned to her mixture of unbelievable pleasure and worry, trying to keep her squirming to a minimum. Her need was only increasing, and her inability to move too much, lest she risk tipping Jon off, only made holding it harder on her. Again, he planted a kiss on her stomach, and she didn't know if it was her imagination or not, but it seemed like he applied a bit more pressure this time.
The effect was still the same; she let out another pained whimper, squeezing her thighs together involuntarily. It hurt so much, but Jon's treatment felt so good, and the combination was strange, giving her some sort of sensation that she could not even begin to explain.
“Any moment now,” Jon said quietly, out of nowhere.
“Wh-what?” she asked, her voice strained.
“Nothing,” he replied gently, giving her a reassuring smile. “You're going to like this, I promise.”
“Jon, what are you-” Janey broke off with a gasp as she felt her control slip, a jet of piss soaking into the bed beneath her. Her eyes widened in terror, and she tried to clench her muscles to stop more from escaping, but she could not.
A low groan came from somewhere deep inside of her as she lost complete control, the contents of her bladder beginning to gush onto their bed. Her humiliation outweighed the phenomenal relief, but there was something else outweighing that, something she did not understand- pleasure. And before she could really register what was going on, Jon had his hand between her legs, letting the piss wash over it.
Janey would have taken more time to wonder why he was doing this or be more mortified that such a thing was happening in the first place, but she could not think of anything now, as her strange pleasure mounted and she felt herself growing close. She had only just finished wetting herself when Jon touched her, and that was all that was needed to finish her off.
She let out a sharp breath, overwhelmed by the sensation, experiencing what might have been the best feeling of her life. It was unclear to her exactly why she had enjoyed herself so much, so soon after wetting herself, and, though she knew those two factors must be connected, she wondered how that could be. She had never heard of anything like that before.
As she came down from her orgasm, she dreaded what Jon would say to her. Surely he was just as confused as he was, perhaps even repulsed by her. That wouldn't explain why he had helped finish her, but she still feared the worse. However, when she looked up at him, his expression was just as serene as it had been the past few nights.
“That felt better than I had expected it to,” he said.
“What do you mean?” she asked breathlessly.
“I knew that you were going to involuntarily empty your bladder, and I knew that this would be because you would not admit that you needed to do so,” he replied. “I also knew that you would enjoy it once it happened and that I would enjoy it too. But I really didn't expect it to feel that good.”
It was very possible that Jon was lying. If he had known it was happening from the beginning, he would have known how much he liked it. It wasn't possible to surprise him anymore. But Janey didn't mind if that wasn't true; she didn't mind much of anything at that particular moment. Despite her fears, things had turned out well.
Better than well, really, and now she and Jon had discovered something else to make their nights together more enjoyable. It would still take work for her to fully adjust to all of the changes, but for now, she could enjoy them because she knew that, had those changes not occurred, she would never have discovered this.
A/N: Have I really sunk so low that I would write omorashi about Janey Slater? I guess so. |
A/N: This is a direct sequel to my story "What Gets Her Hot", but posted separately since it focuses on male desperation instead of female. A little more desperation than last time, because I like that more than just straight watersports. Victimizing Eddie has been a dream of mine for a while, and I have finally allowed it to come true.
A week after their experiment with Sally's secret fetish, they had another chance to be alone and she was planning on experimenting a little bit more. There was something else that she wanted to try with Eddie, and tonight, that would happen.
She had thought about it in the past; it was hard not to, considering how it related to her interests. But, in the past, she had always thought it would be something she would not like that much. Now, knowing Eddie and seeing his reactions the previous week, she thought that she would actually rather enjoy it.
Just like before, she began preparing a little in advance, shopping for the things she would need earlier in the day. When he arrived for their night together, his drink was already poured and he took a long sip, completely unsuspecting of what she had done to it. He would begin to feel the effects soon enough.
“So, what's on the agenda for tonight?” he asked. He was likely still thrown after their first experiment, and sounded a bit uneasy, probably unsure of what to expect from her. Sally almost felt bad for what she was doing to him.
“I was thinking we could just sit and drink for a while,” she said, knowing that he could never resist alcohol, especially when he wasn't smoking and he was not allowed to smoke in her house. The scent would be too hard to get rid of.
“Oh. Is it cos a wanna do more of...ya know, that?” he asked. “Ya trying to...get ready for it?”
“No, I don't think I'll be doing that this week,” she replied, and it wasn't really a lie. They were drinking to prepare, but it would not be what he expected.
“Alright, honey, whatever you want,” he said, slinging an arm around her and pulling her up against him, visibly less tense now that she had said that. He drained his glass and refilled it, this time without the special addition she had given before. That didn't matter, though; one dose would be enough.
Before long, she felt him shift in his seat and looked up to see him wearing a slightly uncomfortable expression. A few moments later, he shifted again and groaned so quietly he probably thought she hadn't heard him. It was clear to her that he was starting to feel the effects of the diuretic.
With that in mind, she snuggled up close to him and purred, “Are you ready?”
“Actually, baby,” he started, “I gotta, uh, take care of somethin' first, if ya catch my drift.” He chuckled, but she was getting good at identifying his nervous chuckles, and Sally knew that he at least suspected she would take a special interest in his predicament.
“Going somewhere?” she asked innocently as he dropped his arm and started to stand up.
“Not for long, you know that,” he said, leaning and planting a kiss on her lips. “And then I'll be right back and we can get started.”
“I'm a little too impatient for that,” she said, standing up to give him a much longer kiss before tugging on his arm. “I'm ready to get started now.” He did not protest much as she drug him to the bedroom and resumed kissing him, pushing him down onto her bed and straddling him.
“C'mon, Sally, let me up,” he said, his easy grin not matching the uneasy look in his eyes. “You know I gotta...” He trailed off awkwardly.
“I want to hear you say it,” she said.
“You know I gotta piss,” said Eddie at last. “It kinda came on outta nowhere and...” Realization dawned on him. “Don't tell me you fuckin' slipped me something. Don't you fuckin' tell me that this was all some plan!”
“I think we both already know that,” she purred, giving him a mischievous wink.
“Why, you little bitch,” he said, and burst out laughing. He cringed suddenly, the laughter having an adverse effect on his bladder, which was a bit more full than it should have been.
“Feeling a little full, Eddie?” she asked, resting her weight on his lower abdomen. His eyes widened and he let out a pained gasp at the sudden pressure added to his bladder, and Sally held back a moan at the display.
“D-don't do that,” he said in a weak voice. Though his initial response to the discovery had been to laugh, he seemed to be having second thoughts as he thought about what this would actually entail. “Are ya sure...I mean, what am I gonna...?” He couldn't find the words to phrase his question.
“Do you remember how positively desperate I was last week?” she asked. When he nodded, she said, “Well, that's how I want you to be, only more so. I really want to watch you squirm, and then you can use me, just like I used you.”
“Doncha think that's a little...intense?” he asked. Sally had come to love how he looked when he was uncertain of things; she was sure that was a side of him that few got to see and felt lucky. Even more lucky was the fact that she knew how to exploit him.
“If you're afraid,” she said, “we don't have to do it. I know it was hard to adjust to what we did before, and I don't want to push you into anything you don't want to do. I'd just thought this would be something you could handle...”
Just as before, the thought of someone thinking he could not handle something was too much for Eddie. He was certainly predictable, and he said, “I can handle it!” before stopping to think about it. “I mean...god, Sally, if that's really what ya want me to do, I guess I can try it, for your sake.” Now he was trying for modesty, as if he had a modest bone in his body.
She let herself fall into the bed beside him and said, “In that case, I'd like to watch you for a little bit. And don't hold back or try to hide anything! I want to see it all.”
He nodded, making a move to bite his lip before stopping. Sally had never seen him so nervous before, even when he was younger, and he was getting to the point that he was having a hard time hiding it from her. More likely than not, this was because the pressure on his bladder made everything a bit more difficult and unusual for him, and that just made the experience more enjoyable for her.
The bed bounced ever so slightly as her lover fidgeted, shaking his legs and squeezing his thighs together. At least he had listened and was not holding back in terms of showing her how desperate he was. And it wouldn't be much longer before it would be too much for him, considering all he had had to drink and the diuretic that ensured it all passed through him much quicker.
She heard him let out a low hiss, squirming and clenching his fists. He tapped one against his thigh while he grit his teeth, his eyes squeezed shut. Before, Sally had not bothered entertaining the thought of watching a man hold; now, she wondered why she had ever thought it was anything less than perfect. She had to admit to herself that there was a part of her that liked degrading Eddie- why else would she like to piss on him as much as she did?
And making him do something like this, watching him struggle with a full bladder that she was the cause of, pushing him to his breaking point, was a degradation that seemed even greater to her, even more powerful. In the end, she would let him piss on her, but the power given to him in that action would mean nothing. The brief moment of power over her would follow him almost losing control at her hands, would be a small consolation prize after she had proven to him and to herself that she was the one with the true power in this arrangement.
She loved that, and she knew that, despite everything, despite how nervous it made him, despite how tough he acted, despite how strong he tried to seem, despite what he had done to her in the past, he loved it too.
“Say it again,” she whispered, wanting to hear that phrase in his voice. That deep, masculine voice that still carried hints of a Southern drawl even after all his years of living up north.
“I gotta piss,” he mumbled, barely able to speak as he rocked back and forth, fighting a battle that he already knew he was going to lose.
“How bad?” she asked, and he jammed a hand between his legs. She was so aroused by this display that she began to squeeze her own thighs together.
“Pretty fuckin' bad,” he said, and then his eyes widened and he hissed. “Shit,” he said under his breath. “Oh, fuck,” he moaned.
“What is it?” asked Sally, pulse quickening with anticipation.
“I just...a little bit came out, I don't think...I'm gonna last much longer.”
“Come on, can't you wait a little bit more? For me?” She gave him that pout that she knew he loved.
“Sure, baby, anything for- fuck!” He gripped himself a bit harder, hissing again. “No, no, I really don't think I can wait anymore.”
“Alright, love,” she said, and helped him sit up. He was shaking as he got up to stand beside the bed, his hand never leaving his crotch. His breathing was labored, he was beyond the point of desperation, and Sally thought he was sexy as hell.
His pants were a challenge, and he could barely bring himself to let go long enough to undo his belt. His hands were shaking so hard he could barely get it open, and he swore loudly as a small, dark spot appeared. His hand shot between his legs again, and he groaned.
“I can't do it, I can't fuckin'...I'm gonna...fuck!” Eddie looked down at her, a mixture of angry and pathetic- most likely angry because of how pathetic he looked. He had already started to piss himself, and it was not certain to either of them if he would be able to get out of his pants in time.
After a moment of trying to regain control, he went for the button on his pants. He got it unfastened without much fuss, but began to leak soon after. There was a low growl as he decided to keep going anyway, and he yanked his zipper down, freeing his cock. He was still leaking, dripping on the floor before he aimed and let loose.
He let out an almost erotic groan of relief as he emptied his bladder directly onto Sally, and she wondered why she ever would have thought she wouldn't like this part. It felt really good- amazing, in fact. Even better were the events leading up to it, watching him struggle and nearly fall at the last hurtle. The look of panic on his face as he almost lost control coupled with the shameless look of sheer relief now would have been enough to do her in all on their own.
Eddie had been incredibly full, and it took him a while to finish emptying completely. When he had, he stood for a moment, panting as he tried to catch his breath. When he had succeeded in this, he said, “That really fuckin' hurt, trying to hold it for that long. But as soon as I could, ya know, let go like that, it actually felt really good and...I guess what I'm sayin' is...I kinda liked that one too.”
“I knew you would,” she replied, grinning up at him as she slipped a hand between her legs and began to touch herself. “But not as much I did.”
“Wanna bet?” he asked, climbing into bed on top of her. And perhaps she would have said more, given him evidence to support her claim, but he shut her up with a kiss before she had the chance.
A/N: And that's the end of the story. I probably won't write any more about them exploring the fetish, but it was fun while it lasted. |
The young blonde haired woman sat in the back of the reception hall at her assigned table watching the newly wed couple share their first dance as husband and wife. Serena was happy for her childhood friend, she really was, but deep down inside she couldn’t help but feel an inkling of jealousy watching –her- dancing with him. A frightening thought popped into her head briefly. It could have been me. What would have happened had she confessed her feelings to him way back then? Would it be her now dressed in white shoving cake into his mouth?
She smiled briefly seeing his youthful happy face. At least he’s happy, she thought with a heavy sigh.
Serena secretly wondered as she stared at the redhead dressed in white if she was pregnant. She amused herself thinking of the most un-romantic scenarios that brought this wedding to fruition. Heaven forbid it was because he actually loved her- that would be boring. Serena hated to admit it, but Misty did look gorgeous in her wedding dress. It was Pikachu though, Ash’s best man, that stole the show looking absolutely adorable dressed in a little tux. They even had an Eevee playing the part of the ring bearer.
Serena clapped along with everybody else once the couple’s first dance was over and the floor was opened up as the DJ began playing music. She scanned the crowd for anyone she might know, but it seemed she was a little out of place, so she sat alone for some time at the table until Ash was free to talk to. She’d give her obligatory congratulations, have dinner and take off. The two girls who joined her at the table soon snapped her out of her thoughts.
“Is anyone sitting here? I know it’s assigned seating, but I had to get away from them for a little while.” The black haired girl said as Serena motioned for her to go ahead and sit down. “Thanks, the love birds are making me sick.” She explained pulling out the chair and taking a seat. “I’m Emily, Ash’s sister.”
“Oh, hello, I’m Serena. I used to travel with Ash back in the day.” She explained.
“I’m Dawn,” Another girl said sitting down on Serena’ s right. It was the color of her hair that Serena had first noticed. Something new; something blue. She watched her for a moment out of the corner of her eye as the two girls continued their previous conversation. The black haired girl kept going on and on about different plants as Dawn nodded politely every once in a while. Serena figured she’d take this moment to excuse herself from the table and go change. Clearly she wouldn’t be missing anything conversation wise.
Once alone in the bathroom stall, Serena lifted up her dress and slid down the used garment. She cringed in disgust that she had actually had to use that thing during the ceremony. Her mother had insisted she come prepared just in case as weddings had a tendency to drag on. After a brief argument, she had agreed to wear it.
After quickly cleaning herself and slipping on the pair of panties she had brought with her in her purse, Serena debated what she should do with the evidence. No trash can, of course, she thought looking around in her stall. She’d have to take it with her and toss it in the trashcan by the sink. Serena peeked through the crack in the door to make sure the coast was clear before exiting while holding the disgusting thing at arms length away from her.
Serena froze in place as the door opened, leaving her standing in shock while holding a wet diaper as both Emily and Dawn entered. “It’s not what it looks like!” she blurted out while regretting it the moment the words left her lips. All she had done was successfully draw attention to herself.
Emily looked from Serena to the sodden granny panty looking undergarment that she held away from her with disgust. Emily’s green eyes softened in understanding as she put the pieces together first. “No big deal,” she said with a shrug before entering a stall leaving Serena and Dawn standing awkwardly together.
“So, uh, you saving that for someone?” Dawn asked in jest after Serena had made no attempts to move from the spot she seemed glued to in order to throw it away. Serena’s face began to glow bright red as she finally found her footing and voice as she made quick work of disposing of the evidence before washing her hands.
Emily soon re-emerged. “Did something happen?” she asked her noticing Serena’s red face and puffy eyes. “You’re new to wearing diapers, aren’t you?”
“I don’t wear diapers!” Serena shot back as Dawn raised an eyebrow at her. “All the time…” she mumbled at the end.
“I used to have to wear them all the time.” Emily said, “ I used to be so scared of people finding out, but after a while, you don’t really care anymore. I’m guessing by your reaction it’s new to you, since you looked like you were caught murdering someone.”
Know it all, Serena thought before sighing. “Got thrown off a Rhyhorn during a race.”
“Ooh.” Both Emily and Dawn said with a grimace.
“I’m still healing, I tore some muscles down there and haven’t been able to hold it for long periods. I thought it would be rude to keep having to leave during the ceremony…” Serena explained.
“Well I hope you get better!” Dawn said cheerfully. “Now are we going to stay in this bathroom all night, or are we going to eat? I’m starving!” The others nodded in agreement and filed out of the ladies room. On the way back to the table, the group passed a bulletin board of various advertisements and announcements of upcoming attractions coming into town. It had happened so fast that if Serena hadn’t been looking in that particular direction, she would have missed what Emily tore from the board and crumpled up.
“What was that about?” Serena whispered to Dawn as Emily tossed the crumpled up flyer in the trash.
“No idea, “ she whispered back giggling. “I’m going to find out. Distract her!” She said while slipping away and heading back to the trashcan as if she were an secret agent on a mission searching for clues. She flashed Serena a smile before sticking her hand in the trash and retrieving the crumped ball of paper that seemed to have upset the other girl so much. Serena smiled back as she let herself get wrapped up in Dawn’s boisterous personality and search for answers.
“Where’d Dawn go?” Emily asked taking a seat at their table before picking up her fork and digging into the plate of fettuccine alfredo that was being served for dinner.
“So, are you a trainer or…?” Serena asked to distract her.
“Well, I have a few pokemon, but I’m interning at the Pokemon Center in Cerulean City.” Emily said between bites of food.
“Nice, but I have no idea where that is. I’m not from around here.” Serena said taking a sip of her wine. She caught Emily staring at it with a hint of longing in her eyes before she sighed and took a drink from her soda.
“Hey, sorry, I’m back.” Dawn said sitting in between the two before winking at Serena and passing her a torn up picture of a brunette haired girl she recognized from several Silph Co. advertisements she had seen hanging up around town. So strange, she thought folding it up and slipping it into her purse.
“Hello, ladies, “ A waiter said appearing with a bottle of wine. “ May I top of your glasses?”
“Thank you,” both Serena and Dawn said as their glasses were refilled.
Emily glanced at the empty wine glass next to her before pushing it forward in a failed attempt to get some.
“May I see your trainer card, miss?” The waiter asked as Emily hung her head in defeat and mumbled something that sounded like a “never mind”.
Dawn flashed a mischievous smile at Serena before taking a long and drawn out sip from her glass. “Mmm, isn’t the wine here spectacular?”
“It is; it really goes great with dinner.” Serena agreed having to hold back her giggles.
“You want some, Emily?” Dawn asked offering her glass to the girl whose eyes sparkled as she nodded her head and began reaching for it. Dawn pulled it away just out of arms reach and smiled. “First you have to tell us what that was all about with the poster.”
Serena smiled behind her glass. Dawn was good, maybe she was a secret agent after all, she thought with a laugh. Emily frowned while thinking it over.
“I just don’t like advertisements.” She answered.
“Do you believe her?” Dawn asked Serena.
“Not a chance,” Serena said. “Too bad, this really is good wine.”
“Fine,” Emily said rolling her eyes. “It’s because of the girl on the flyer.”
“Go on.” Dawn said inching the glass a little closer towards Emily. “Whatcha got against the new prez of Silph Co?”
“We, umm, used to date.” Emily mumbled. Dawn and Serena exchanged a look of surprise. They had expected a response like, “She was a stuck up bitch,” or something, but a confession of a past lesbian love? Serena nodded as Dawn handed over her glass, but Emily now seemed to be lost in thought. Now this conversation was much more interesting than plants.
“Now when you said date, you mean you were actually…?” Serena asked.
“Dating.”
“You had a girl friend?” Dawn asked a little doubtful as Emily nodded seemingly interested now in a half-eaten piece of garlic bread.
“Were you two serious?” Serena asked completely intrigued.
“I guess,” Emily mumbled taking a sip from the glass of wine.
“Did you two…do it?” Dawn blurted out as Serena nearly choked on her fork. Way to be subtle. The girl being questioned turned a bright red before knocking back the rest of the wine like it was a shot. Well that’s a yes, Serena thought taking the empty glass away and replacing it with her full one.
“This might sound like a dumb question, but…umm, how?” Dawn asked as Emily nearly spit out her drink.
“With, umm, fingers…” Emily whispered with a blush as both Dawn and Serena leaned in closer to hear. Now this, Serena thought, was an interesting topic. “And one time a vibrator in the shower.” Serena shifted her weight a bit in the chair to get comfortable, she hadn’t expected this topic to get her flustered, but it was having an obvious impact yet she wanted to know more.
“What other stories do you have?” Serena asked in a hushed tone trying to keep the excitement from her voice.
“Well, one time we went to the store and bought some whipped cream and chocolate syrup.” Emily said getting a little more comfortable. Serena figured it was because of the one and a half glasses she drank, but if it meant keeping the story going and getting some juicy details, she’d order her an entire bottle if that were what it would take.
“Yeah,” Both Serena and Dawn said pressing for more.
“And some rope.” Emily admitted… “Then she, umm, tied me up to the bed…”
“Yes!” Both girls said again wide-eyed.
“She poured chocolate syrup on me in certain places and then licked it off.” Emily admitted blushing fiercely.
“That’s pretty, umm…” Dawn started to say.
“Hot.” Serena said as Dawn nodded in agreement.
“I just have one more question for you; how far along is Misty?” Serena asked.
“Three months…” Emily admitted before grimacing as she realized what she just said.
“Knew it!” Serena said.
“EMILY KETCHUM!” a shout said next to the table as an angry looking woman with hands on her hips approached. “That better not be alcohol you’re drinking!” Delia shouted.
“Shit,” Emily said underneath her breath before she was dragged away by the ear towards the family table with Emily gasping in pain the whole way.
“Awe, there goes our fun,” Dawn said before stretching. “Want to go walk around out front and feed the Pidgey’s?”
“Yeah, sure,” Serena agreed as the pair left the reception hall and wandered around out front, remnants of dinner rolls in hand.
The pair walked around for what felt like hours, talking and laughing while throwing a few bread crumbs here and there. Serena was surprised at how easily she got along with Dawn and how fast the two had cliqued. In no time at all it felt like they had been friends for years despite having only met a few hours ago. They reminisced about the good old days of traveling with Ash. Before she could stop herself, Serena was telling her all about the huge crush she used to have on him and the strange hollow feeling she felt watching him marry someone else.
“It makes sense, he was your first love after all.” Dawn said after listening to Serena pour her heart out. “I’m just guessing though, I don’t know what love feels like. Some nights though, I wonder what it would be like to be held in someone’s arms while I fall asleep.”
“It’s one of the best feelings.” Serena said with a sigh. “It’s been a long time though.” She said sitting on the grassy hill overlooking the pond. “Who knew the bookworm earlier was in a sexual relationship with another girl?”
“Right? I was so surprised! Here I was thinking that girl had to be the most boring person on the planet. That conversation sure took a turn.” Dawn said. “Guess we shouldn’t judge people so fast.”
“Yeah,” Serena said now eye-level with Dawn’s waist. A sudden violent rustling in the nearby trees turned their attention as a strong gust of wind came rushing through sending leaves and flower petals dancing through the air. A sudden gasp from Dawn caused Serena to glance over and catch sight of the girl fighting a loosing battle with her skirt as it blew up revealing her childish cartoon panties.
“Don’t laugh!” Dawn said fake sulking with an obvious tinted red face. Serena wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or embarrassment, but it made the girl look cute.
“Piplup panties, huh?” Serena said giggling. “How old are you?”
“You’re one to talk, diaper girl.” Dawn said sticking out her tongue playfully.
“I’m not wearing a diaper.” Serena said while rolling her eyes.
“Oh, yeah? Prove it.” Dawn challenged with a smirk. She hadn’t expected Serena to accept as she had only been joking, but her eyes went wide as the blonde stood and lifted up the hem of her dress as Dawn got a good look of the much more mature red lacey undergarments.
“No diaper,” Serena said now smirking herself at the blush that had formed across Dawn’s face. “I never turn down a challenge.”
“Fancy,” Dawn said once she found her voice. “Where’d you get them?”
“I made them.”
“What? You made them?” Dawn asked in surprise.
“I design lingerie.” Serena said. “I have a whole line out in stores. You’d look pretty good in the blue ones.”
“Wow, nice. Heh, thanks, but it’s not like I have plans for anyone to see them anytime soon.” Dawn said squatting down to pick up a dandelion.
“For someone who says they aren’t going to be seen, Piplup sure seems to be making an awful lot of appearances today.” Serena teased after getting another good look in between the other girls legs. Dawn stuck out her tongue again before sitting down next to her on the hill as the two watched the sunset together. She wasn’t sure why, but Serena really wanted to put her arm around Dawn; she was just so cute and childish. She found herself leaning closer towards her until their hands accidentally brushed against each other. Serena could see the blush on the other girl’s face in the fading sunlight, but she made no move to pull her hand away so Serena held it in hers. Dawn’s hand was so smooth and so-unlike a man’s. It fit perfectly within her own.
Another cold wind swept across landscape as the two shivered together, but this time it was Dawn who huddled up closer. Serena tentatively wrapped an arm around her as Dawn leaned in and let herself rest against Serena’s side. Something about this just felt so right to her; she wouldn’t even mind staying like this for the rest of the night. If only she didn’t have to pee.
Serena quietly cursed under her breath as she tried to shift. This had been so nice. Why now of all times? She tried to hold it as best she could, but her constant shifting and squirming alerted Dawn to a problem.
“Something the matter?” she asked. “You seem uncomfortable, is this too weird for you?” she asked sitting up.
“No, no! It’s not you, I was actually enjoying this.” Serena admitted as Dawn smiled. “I have to pee,” She mumbled.
“Can’t you hold it?” Dawn teased leaning back into her.
“No, I’m sorry.” Serena admitted before muttering. “Stupid Rhyhorn.”
Dawn quickly sat up as her eyes went wide in revelation. “I totally forgot about that.” She admitted. “We walked pretty far from the hotel, can you make it back?”
“Umm, I’m not sure. I’ll try.” She said sitting up and getting to her feet.
“You can always just go in the trees if you don’t think you can make it.” Dawn said pointing to the rows of pine trees.
“We’re not kids anymore, Dawn.” Serena said with a scowl.
“If you gotta go, you gotta go.” She said with a shrug.
“I’d rather just hold it.” Serena said looking around. “I’m going to head back.” Dawn nodded in agreement as the two set off towards the hotel. About fifteen minutes into the walk Serena grimaced as she felt the pressure becoming more and more unbearable as she let out a groan.
“Are you gonna be ok?” Dawn asked in concern. “You can squeeze my hand if you wa- I TAKE IT BACK! LET GO LET GO!” She whimpered holding her crushed fingers.
Serena crossed her legs before continuing on the trek back, but froze in place at the first signs of leakage. “No no no,” she moaned as warm droplets began snaking down her legs. She looked around in a panic, but there was no cover anywhere. She could either squat down in front of Dawn right here and now or wet herself while walking. The blue haired girl smiled sympathetically at her in understanding. She wasn’t going to make it and they both knew it.
“Damn it, I’m sorry,” Serena mumbled stopping in defeat as she lifted her dress out of the way. It was already too late for her underwear so she didn’t even bother moving them out of the way. She hadn’t even been able to squat down before she lost control as warm urine streamed down her legs. At least she could save her dress she thought with a pitiful laugh. “Should have gone in the trees like you said, you must think I’m disgusting now.” She said choking back a sob.
“Hey, it’s okay, it happens.” Dawn said trying to reassure her while putting a hand on her shoulder.
“I’m 24-years-old and this is the third time I’ve had an accident in front of someone since the injury. I came to Kanto to get away from what happened in my home region and all I did was create more painful memories!”
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, I promise. I don’t think you’re disgusting.” Dawn said rubbing the other girl’s back. “You’re a beautiful and talented designer who just needs a bit more time to heal is all. Now c’mon, take those wet panties off before you get sick.”
“So not how my underwear is supposed to come off at a wedding.” Serena half-laughed and half-cried.
“Heh, would you rather me take them off?” Dawn blurted out before cringing and covering her mouth as both girl’s blushed fiercely.
“Not when they’re like this,” Serena said moving in quickly before she lost the nerve and kissed Dawn’s cheek. She cringed while reaching up and pulled down her soaked panties while Dawn held her face where Serena’s lips had brushed against them.
“So what happened in your home region?” Dawn asked once she had recovered from the shock.
“Wet myself on stage during a fashion show.” Serena mumbled holding her wet undergarments in the crook of her index finger.
“I’m sorry, that must have been horrible.” Dawn said cringing at the thought.
“It wasn’t my most glamorous moment.” Serena admitted with a sigh. Dawn smiled sympathetically as she took the blondes hand in hers. “Thank you for being so sweet and understanding, I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you.”
“I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you as well,” Dawn said. “I feel so comfortable around you; It doesn’t feel like we just met.” She admitted locking eyes with Serena with a kind and gentle smile as she leaned back against a thin pine tree.
“I feel the same,” Serena said tucking her soiled underwear into her purse before meeting Dawn’s gaze. She felt her heart beating rapidly inside her chest as she looked into the girl’s sea blue eyes that seemed to beckon her closer. Serena’s outstretched hand moved automatically, as if it was on auto-pilot, gently brushing Dawn’s long bangs out of her eyes. “You’re really pretty.” Serena said quietly as her face inched closer and closer.
“So are you,” Dawn whispered back sliding her palm across Serena’s face. “Go on, I dare you.”
“You know I never back down from a challenge.” Serena whispered back lightly pressing her lips against Dawn’s.
“You call that a kiss?” Dawn teased when they broke apart before leaning in for more. Her arms found their way around Serena’s neck as they each found their rhythm. Dawn’s lips sent a serious of strange, but not un-pleasant, sensations coursing through Serena’s body. She wanted to feel more of her. She wanted to know every inch of her mouth and lips and wanted to feel more of her pressed against her.
“Where are you staying?” Serena finally asked once the two had broken a part for air.
“The pokemon center.” Dawn said resting her head on Serena’s shoulder as she let the others woman’s arms hold her against her body.
“I’ve got a room at the hotel. You could stay with me.” Serena whispered.
“How many beds are there?”
“Just one.” Serena said softly taking her by the hand.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………
The two girls sat side by side on the hotel bed after each had had a turn in the shower.
“I knew you’d look amazing in the blue ones.” Serena said admiring Dawn’s body in the lacy blue lingerie. “They go great with your hair.”
“Thanks.” Dawn said with a nervous smile looking down at her body. “I’ve never worn anything like this before.”
“You look great.” Serena said again sporting a matching pink set of her own.
“I-I-don’t know what to do.” Dawn admitted after a moment of awkward and tense silence.
“I’m not quite sure either, to be honest.” Serena said. “We can just start where we left off and see what happens.” She said taking her hand and running her fingers through Dawn’s wet hair. The other nodded and gave a nervous giggle before continuing their kiss from earlier only breaking apart occasionally to breathe and turn on some music.
“Can I touch you?” Dawn asked as Serena nodded her head. Dawn gently took her palm and slowly traced down the girls shoulders until she hesitantly came to rest on top of her bra. Serena nodded her approval again before Dawn lightly cupped her breast in her hands through the lacey material. Serena resumed their kiss as she began to explore Dawn’s chest as well before reaching down and slowly feeling her stomach, hips and thighs.
“Can I touch you here?” Serena asked resting a finger a top the other’s panties as Dawn hesitantly nodded. Serena very carefully and slowly traced along the various bumps that pressed against the fabric inside. After a few slow and teasing laps she began to feel moisture against her fingers. “You’re getting wet.” Serena whispered as Dawn’s face turned red. She slipped her fingers inside the waistband of her panties and began teasing her directly as Dawn’s legs twitched a little involuntarily.
“Do you masturbate, Dawn?” she asked as the blue haired girl shook her head. “So you’ve never had anything inside of you?” Another no. “I don’t want to hurt you, so I have an idea.” Serena said pulling her damp fingers away and pulling Dawn’s body to the edge of the bed as she sat between her legs on the floor and pulled the blue panties down Dawn’s legs.
“What are you doing?” Dawn asked as she let herself be positioned as she stared up at the ceiling. “SE-SER-SERENA!” she gasped closing her legs at the unexpected sensation.
“Shh, it’s ok. Just enjoy it.” Serena said patting the girl’s thigh reassuringly and opening her legs. “I’ll make you feel good.”
“But..but it’s dir- AHH!” Dawn moaned clenching the bedding in her fists as she twitched at the strange yet wonderful sensation of Serena’s tongue. “Oh god, Oh god.”
“See, I told you.” Serena said between licks as she held down Dawn’s squirming legs. After a few minute’s she could feel Dawn’s lower parts beginning to twitch against her tongue while she alternated between licking and sucking as the girl’s moaning grew louder.
“I..feel…strange!” Dawn moaned. “Something’s going to come out! Stop!”
“It means… you’re going to… cum. It’s…okay…to…cum…”
“N-no! I feel like I’m going to pee!”
“It’s okay, it happens. It’s why I moved you off the bed. There’s an ice bucket under you, don’t worry.” Serena said rubbing her to keep the sensation going so she could talk. “Just relax and ride it out.” She said before going back to her previous method of stimulation.
“Ahh, Serena!” Dawn moaned. “It feels so hot! Ahh! Serena! Serena! I can’t hold it much longer!”
“Just…let…it…happen….before you do, say, ‘I’m coming,’”
“Ahh, ahh!” Dawn panted locking her knees around Serena’s head. “C-can’t hold it! I’m cumming! I’m cumming!” She yelled as Serena pulled her head back in the nic of time as liquid began trickling into the bucket below.
……………………………………………………………………………………………………
“That…was…amazing.” The blue haired girl said rolling over and wrapping her arms around Serena. “Thank you.” She mumbled before letting out a long yawn.
“You’re pretty good yourself, Miss-I-Have-No-Idea-What-I’m-Doing.” Serena teased kissing her forehead and pulling her in closer as the two fell asleep in each others arms… |
Margarets School for Unruly GirlsOk... this is a story I've had in my head for over 10 years. There are some parts that are obviously not realistic but I ask that you suspend reality for a while and hopefully just enjoy the story and take it for what it is - a fantasy fiction that is just for fun and not to be taken seriously.After beginning the story it had become rather longer than I intended. I ended up thinking up a back story as to why the main character ends up in a strict boarding school for girls. Enjoy the first chapter! The best bits are yet to come!...........................................................................................................................
Chaper 1: The accidentAbigail was fifteen and had recently lost her father, David, from a terminal illness. She had been very close to her father as her mother had died shortly after giving birth to Abigail so it was just the two of them. That was until her father met Ruby five years ago. David and Ruby had three more children together, Thomas, Sally and Sienna, the youngest of whom was only six months old at the time of David's death. Abigail and Ruby had always gotten along fine but Ruby was struggling with the three little ones and the death of her beloved husband so Ruby's mother, Grace, moved in to help with the young ones until Ruby got back on her feet. Grace and Abigail never saw eye to eye and Abigail was frequently locked in her bedroom as punishment since Grace had moved in.One afternoon Ruby was out with the youngest two children and Grace was having a 'Nanna Nap' as Abigail put it. Abigail was playing hide and seek with four year old Thomas. Abigail was hiding and she could hear Thomas in the hall upstairs counting to twenty so she hid in the cupboard under the stairs. Finally he yelled out "Coming! Ready or not!" and Abigail could hear him running along the upstairs hallway towards the stairs. Then there was a horrible crashing sound and Abigail heard Thomas scream and she emerged from her hiding place just in time to see Thomas falling down the stairs and Grace come out of her bedroom to witness the scene unfolding before her. Thomas lay on the floor with his arm at an unnatural angle, obviously broken. Grace went deathly silent and stared at Abigail. She gritted her teeth and growled at her "call the ambulance" which Abigail quickly did.Ruby was called and quickly returned home with Sally and Sienna and was able to accompany Thomas in the ambulance. Grace said ahe would organise the children and pack a bag for Thomas before following in the car. Grace was livid and turned on Abigail. "How could you be so stupid! Letting a little boy fall down the stairs and break his arm! You are so lucky it wasn't his neck! It's bad enough that the poor child has lost his father but now he has to go to the same hospital that his father died in! He is going to be terrified"Abigail stood there in stunned silence, mouth open staring at Grace. "I'll deal with you later" said Grace before taking Abigail by the hand and dragging her to her bedroom and pushing her through the door. Abigail had just enough time to turn and yell "I didn't mean it..." before the door slammed shut and she heard the bolt slide across from the outside, imprisioning her in her bedroom. Abigail went to the berdoom window and looked out as Grace put the two small ones into the car and backed out of the driveway. Abigail sat on her bed and glanced at the clock. It was three in the afternoon and she knew it would be hours before anyone came home. She looked around her bedroom and took in the surroundings of the room she had once loved so much. Ruby and David had allowed her to decorate the room any way she wanted when they moven in together. They wanted her to feel special as Ruby was ten pregnant with Thomas. Her window looked out over the street and her desk sat under the window. Her single bed was against one wall and her favourite bear sat on the pillows. On the wall opposite the bed were her bookshelf and wardrobe. It was neat and clean and carpeted in cream carpet, the walls a pale yellow and Abigail had put up photographs and posters on all of the walls. The only door was the one leading to the hallway, now locked, and the windows were screened in. Abigail lay down and held her bear close as she cried herself to sleep.When she awoke it was dark and the house was silent and Abigail needed to pee but she could tell that nobody was home yet. She flicked on her bedside light and looked at the time. Seven fifteen PM. She was stunned that she had slept for four hours. She fidgeted on her bed and began to cry again as her need grew worse. At seven thirty her mobile phone rang. It was Ruby."I'm so sorry" balwed Abigail "We were just playing and he tripped. There was nothing I could do!""Thomas will be fine" she said. "He needed surgery to set his arm and he is now recovering. I am going to stay the night here with him. Grace will be home shortly with Sally and Sienna""Will she be long" Abigail asked "Grace has loced me in my bedroom and I need to go to the bathroom""I'll tell her you need the bathroom. I don't think she will be long, it's past the babies bedtime" Ruby replied. Abigail's heart sank as she heard Grace in the background. "If she makes a mess there will be hell to pay!"Abigail ended her call and sat back on her bed. She looked at the clock, it was now seven fourty five and Abigail knew it was a half hour journey from the hospital. She put her hand in her crotch and looked around her room to try and distract herself. The minues ticked on and the pressure built. Abigail crossed her legs and bounced up and down. She looked around the room for something to pee in but with no luck. She prided herself on being tidy and keeping her room neat so there was not even a stray cup or even a towel to pee into. Her rubbish bin was mesh so that was a no go as well. Abigail was doing a full on pee pee dance and she felt thr first spurt escaping. She froze in place and could not move. She knew she was about to lose it. Her legs were locked together and she squeezed herself tightly. Finally the strain was too much on her exhausted body and the pee tricked it way out past all of the stops before gushing out of her. It rolled down her legs, over her bare feet and splattered on the carpet. That was when Abigail heard the car pull up in the driveway. The flow continued for a good two minutes before dying down. Abigail could hear Grace coming upstairs as she peed and just as the final drops left her body the door opened.
Chapter 2: PunishmentGrace looked at Abigail and the pee still dripping onto the floor. Abigail said nothing and went bright red."The chidlren are asleep. Help me bring them in from the car" Grace said. Abigail followed Grace out to the car, her wet jeans becoming cold in the night air. Abigail unbuckled the just three year old Sally from her carseat and leaned her against her shoulder. Sally stirred in her sleep but did not wake up. Luckily Grace had had the forethought to put the freshly potty trained toddler in a nappy before driving home and Abigail blushed as she felt Sally's nappy become warm as she peed in it, blisfully unaware of her big sisters current predicament."Change her and put her to bed" Grace said. "Then fetch two of her nappies and bring them to your bedroom. I will be waiting." Abigail did as she was told. She carried Sally to her room and lay her on the change mat. Sally woke and sleepily asked "Abbie did you do wees in your knickers?""Yes" said Abigail "Go back to sleep""I thought you was a big girl like me. I just have a nappy on coz Granny knew I'd fall asleep in the car. You shoulda used the potty!""I didn't make it" said Abigail as she picked up Sally and lay her in bed. Sally was asleep again as her head hit the pillow. Abigail tucked her in and sighed. She took two nappies from Sally's change table and went up to her bedroom.Grace was standing in Abigail's room with a scrubbing brush, bucket of water and some carpet cleaner sitting next to the still wet puddle on the floor. Abigail noticed that she was holding a roll of tape and some scissors. Grace told her to put the nappies on her desk. As she did so Abigail noticed two bottles of cold water sitting there as well."Clean it up" said Grace "Only when it is clean can you get changed. Do not speak to my unless I tell you to" Abigail set to work and was soon fisished. She stood up, still in her damp jeans, and turned to face Gace. "Take off all of your clothes and lay on the floor." Abigail thought it best to do as she was told adn removed her itchy cold jeans, knickers, tee shirt and bra. As she stripped Grace picked up the two nappies and taped them together. Abigail's heart sank as she realised what was happenning. "Your sister still wears nappies at night because she wet herself" Grace said "Since you wet yourself like a toddler tonight I shall treat you like one tonight as well" She slipped the taped together nappies under Abigail's bottom and folded up the front. Abigail began to cry as she felt the soft padding encase her in her padded prison. The tabs didn't quite reach so Grace used some more tape to fasten the nappies around Abigails slender waist. "Sit up" commanded Grace. She held out one of the bottles of water "Drink." Abigail managed to drink it easily, not having had anything to drink since before being locked in her bedroom that afternoon. It was now almost eight thirty. Grace handed her one of Sally's nighties and told Abigail to put it on. It was obviously far too short and did not cover her nappy."I have spoken to my friend Margaret" Grace said "She runs a strict boarding school for girls out of town. There is a vacancy and tomorrow you will be going there. I cannot trust you around the children so I need you out of my hair. Pack your school bag with your personal belongings. Clothing and school equipment will be provided for you when you get there" Grace turned and headed for the door. "I expect you to be packed up in half an hour. I will be back to check on you and I also expect that other bottle of water to be gone when I return."Abigail picked up her school backpack and emptied out her books. She felt ridiculous in a nappy and Sally's nightie that might as well have been a shirt. She looked around the room and decided on what to pack. Into her bag went her bear, her favourite book and her phone. She pulled her photos off the wall and added them to the bag as well as her hair brush and hair ties. There was nothing else to take if clothing was provided at the boarding school. Abigail sighed and picked up the second bottle of water and began drinking it. She could already feel the first bottle pooling in her bladder as she drank. Grace obviously intended her to use the nappy but Abigial thought that to be too convienent, there had to be a catch. Grace suddenly appeared in the doorway just as Abigail drained the last few drops."Go to sleep" Grace said to Abigail "I am locking you in again. Do not wet that nappy. I will be unlocking the door at eight am and will let you out then. If it is wet you will be wearing another one for your journey to school tomorrow. If it is dry you will get to wear big girl knickers. You are to stay in bed until I unlock your door"Abigail fell asleep wondering how she would hold her already filling bladder for another ten hours....Luckily for Abigail she slept soundly until 7.45 the next morning. She woke up absoultely desperate to pee! She squeezed her legs together and held herself as best as she could. The thick nappy prevented her from holding herself though and she coudl not sit still on the bed but she managed to hang on until Grace came to her room. Abigail expected to be allowed to use the toilet but was wrong. Grace opened the door and commanded Abigail not to speak and to lay still on the bed while she checked the state of her nappy. Abigail knew better than to argue with Grace. Grace squeezed her nappy and found it dry. "You may pee" said Grace. Abigail went to hop up and head to the bathroom but Grace stopped her "I said you could pee. Not go to the toilet." "But.." Abigail said and Grace smacked her cheek sharply "I told you not to speak" said Grace "Pee your nappy, I dont want them to go to waste." Abigail sighed and relaxed her bladder. Grace watched closely as her nappy began to expand and sag as it gained a slight yellow colour. Abigail felt the nappy leak as it could not contain the contents of over twelve hours worth of her bladder. It ran out the leg holes and onto the bed as Grace watched her embarass herself. When she was finished Grace cut the tapes and freed Abigail from the soggy wet nappy. "Get dressed and put your sheets in the washing machine" Grace said "Your ride out to school will be here in half an hour" and that is how Abigail found herself sitting in the back of a strangers car heading out to God-knows-where to a school that she knew nothing about.
Edited October 9, 2015 by Flower
(see edit history) |
Chapter 3: Margaret's School for Unruly GirlsEventually the car turned in through some cast iron gate in the middle of nowhere and drove up a long driveway and stopped outside the doors to a large manor house. Abigail picked up her bag and followed the driver through the front doors. He pointed at an old fashioned sofa and said "Sit down, the headmistress will be with you shortly" and he disappeared through some doors that were marked 'STAFF ONLY'. Abigail needed to pee so she looked around her for a bathroom but could see no sign of one. Abigail took in her surroundings, she was in a beautiful old fashioned house with a grand staricase of polished wood leading up to another level. There was a corrdoor leading past the steps and Abigail wondered how large this place really was. Soon a tall and slender lady, with her brown hair wrapped neatly in a bun appeared through the STAFF ONLY doors. She was wearing a smart suit coat, stockings and heels and said "You must be Abigail, I am Margaret Wood, the head of this school. You will address me as Mistress. Please follow me." Abigail did not know what to say so she remained silent and followed Mistress through the staff only doors into a large sitting room where she saw some other ladies sitting, talking, marking papers and drinking coffee. "This must be the teacher's lounge" thought Abigail. Mistress stopped and addressed the other teachers "Excuse me everyone, this is Abigail, she will be joining us today. I hope you will all help her settle in to our rules and routines here." Abigail looked at the other ladies, they seemed friendly looking enough. "Nurse Ella, please come with me" said Margaret and a young lady in a white dress and stocking stood up and accompanied Margaret and Abigail into another room with 'Miss Margaret - Head Teacher' printed in gold on the door."Ella, please take Abigail through to your room and set her up for admission. While you are there I will get her uniforms ready." Said Margaret. "Certainly" agreed Ella, "Come with me Abigail." Abigail followed her into the adjoining room, which appeared to be the nurses room. It was equipped with all types of medical parephanaelia that one would expect at a school and Ella poined to a chair for Abigail to sit on."Welcome Abigail. Margaret has told me all about you and why you have come to join us. I believe you caused your little brother some nasty injuries.""No, it was an accident and I didn't do anything" argued Abigail. I was playing with Thomas when he fell down the stairs and broke his arm. I didn't hurt him!""If you say so" said Ella "none the less you are here now and I need to prep you for admission." Abigail wondered what she meant by 'prep for admission' and squirmed from the need in her bladder as she watched Nurse Ella arranging some medicines, syringes and a sample cup on a tray and place it on the desk in front of Abigail. "What are you going to do with those?" she asked. Nurse Ella replied "it is standard procedure to do full bloods and take a uring sample on admission to the school here. We need to make sure your vacinations are up to date and I also need to give you a shot that Mistress will explain to you later." Abigail went pale from fright but was relieved that at least she would be allowed to use a toilet soon to give a sample. "We will do the urine test first. I'm sure you need to go after such a long car journey. Is that right?" asked Nurse Ella. "Yes Miss" replied Abigail. "Come through to the bathroom then. I need to supervise" said Nurse Ella and she picked up the cup and led her to the adjoining bathroom. It was just a room with a toilet and hand basin. There were no partitions. "Surely she isn't going to watch me pee" thought Abigail. Nurse Ella expained that she needed to observe Abigail as she urinated to guage her capacitity and that it was standard procedure. Nurse Ella placed a container like a potty under the seat of the toilet to collect the urine. "When did you last pass urine?" asked Nurse Ella. "Eight this morning" Replied Abigail. Ella made a note on a form and then asked "Now that it is twelve thirty, On a scale of one to ten, how badly to you need to pass urine now?" WHAT! THought Abigail thats a bit personal. "About a seven...." Abigail replied unsurely. "Oh good so you are in quite a bit of need" said Ella cryptically as she noted something else down. "Off you go then" Abigail looked from Ella to the toilet and Ella sighed "I have to watch. It's standard procedure. You wont be able to use a toilet for quite a while after this as we need to get your enrollment settled and I go for my lunch break shorlty so this room will be locked." Abigail thought she had better do as she was told and pulled down her jeans and underpants and let a long steady flow out into the container placed in the toilet. Nurse Ella was watching the stream and making notes on her form. When she was done Abigail washed her hands and accompanied Nurse Ella back to the other room."Try to relax, I'm good at this" Ella smiled at Abigail when she approached her with the syringe to take a blood sample. Abigail closed her eyes tight as Ella drew the blood. Then Ella said "It's time for a shot as well. Mistress will explain it to you in a moment. All of the girls need to have it regularly. You will need it again. The tests I run on your blood and urine will determine how often you need it. She proceded to inject the liquid into Abigail's arm. "There! All done. Go back through the door to the headmistresses office. I'm sure she will be waiting for you."Chapter 4: The RulesAbigil picked up her bag and cautiously pushed open the door to Mistresses office and peeked though. "Come on in Abigail" Mistress said, "Take a seat." Abigail did as she was asked and sat down opposite Mistress. "First I would like you to change into your new uniform" Said Mistress "there is no need to be shy here, you won't be for much longer!" and she handed Abigail a pile of clothes. "Just pop these on for me here." Abigail looked at the clothes and decided that changing in front of a stranger could not be as bad a peeing in front of one. Abigail noticed that underwear and shoes were included in her bundle so she began to change. The uniform she was given included a white button up shirt with a pale blue and white striped tie, a knee length pale blue pleated skirt, knee high white socks with a pale blue trim at the top, and shiny black bucke up shoes. Plain white knickers and crop top completed the outfit. Abigail placed her clothes that she took off into her backpack and turned to face Mistress who said to her "the girls are required to wear their hair in two plaits normally but you can do that as of tomorrow. Have you brought your own hair ties?" Abigail said she had. "Lovely." said Mistress, "Now let's go over the rules." and she handed Abigail a piece of paper.Margaret's School for Unruly Girls - Daily Routine and Rules1. Girls are to wear prescribed uniforms at all times. This included underwear, shoes and nightwear.2. Girls are expected to awake at 6.30 am and be at breakfast in their day uniforms at 7 am sharp.3. Girls may use the lavatory facilities at 7.30 am and be at their first lesson at 8 am (timetables will be provided for classes) Water bottles are to be carried at all times and the girls are encouraged to drink water throgughout the day.4. Girls have a short 15 minute snack break at 10.30. Suitable snacks will be provided by the teacher at that time. Girls are not permitted to leave the classroom for any purpose during snack break5. Girls will have ONE HOUR ONLY between 1pm and 2pm to use the lavatory and eat lunch at the cafeteria. 6. Classes will end at 4pm when girls will be dismissed to the dormitory area for free time and study until 6pm. The lavatory will open at 6pm and stay open for a HALF HOUR ONLY7. Dinner is at 6.30 pm and lights out is at 9pm. There is no access to lavatories after lights outLavatory ProceduresLavatories will only be unlocked at the above mentioned times. They are not available for student use at ANY OTHER TIMEGirls are to quietly wait outside the lavatory for it to be unlocked and then proceed quietly throughThere is to be no talking in the lavatoriesIf girls have toileting accicents there will be consequences as outlined belowToileting ConsequencesIf a toileting accidet occurs the offending girl will surrender her skirt to the teacher in which whose class she disgraced herself in. The offending girl will go without her skirt for the rest of the day (until bedtime) and she will also NOT be permitted to use the lavaroties at the next opening. For example: a girl has a toileting accident at 10 am, she surrenderers her skirt to the teacher and is denied access to the lavatory at 1pm. Access will be granted again at 6pm.If the same child has another toileting accident on the same day she is to present helself to the teacher in which whose class she disgraced herself for a spanking. The teacher will decided whether the girl will be spanked with or without knickers on.After two lavatory accidents in one day there are no further lavatory prielidges available for the girl and a spanking will occur after each trangresstion. The following day will return to normal.Abigail read the rules in shock. She was only allowed to pee three times a day! But still needed to drink lots of water. This was not fair at all!"These rules and procedures are to instill discipline in all things" explained Mistress "Lavatory visits are a privelidge here. If you can't control yourself you will just have to urintate in your knickers and socks. Do you understand?""Yes Mistress" said Abigail."Good" Said Mistress, "It is nearly one o'clock so I will escort you to the cafeteria for lunch and find your dormitory buddy. Leave your bag here. I will take it up to your room for you shortly." |
Last bit for today
Chapter 5: Introductions"Before we go I need to tell you about the injection you recieved earlier" Margaret said "It is a new drug developed specifically for me. It prevents the body from producing solid waste. As you saw in the rules, lavotory visits are a privelidge, not a right and we dont want to deal with messes here. All of your bodily waste will now be converted to urine, as long as you are under the influence of the drug you will not need to pass a bowel movment. This of course makes you produce more urine than you are currently so you will need to adjust to that." Abigail stood there in stunned silence, how was this possible but before she had the chance to ask any questions Mistress announced "Come on, I want to go find Sarah before she has lunch or uses the lavatory. Your bed will be next to hers"Abigail followed Mistress out of the office and along the corridor. As they walked along it the classroom doors opened and girls began emerging. Abigail was shocked to see that there were some girls not wearing skirts! Then she remembered the rules. Those girls had obviously had an accident and surrendered their skirts. On second glance abigail noticed that a few of the girls without skirts were in noticibly wet knickers and socks. All of the other girls appeared desperate and were fidgeting or openly holding themselves as they walked along, happily chatting like this was a normal occurrence.Abigail and Mistress approacked a group of girls who fell silent as they approached. One of the girls was wearing no skirt and was still wet. "Oh Sarah what a disapointment" said Mistress "I had thought you would be able to control yourself today since you knew you would be showing around a newcomer. When did you disgrace yourself?" "Only a few minutes ago Mistress, I just couldnt wait any longer. It was my first time today though, I can control myself until bedtime. Sorry Mistress." Mistress left Abigail with the skirtless wet girl and asked that she show her around.The wet girl turned and smiled at Abigail and said "I'm Sarah, you will be taking the empty bed beside mine. Sorry you had to meet me while I'm in disgrace. Now I have to wait until bedtime. These are my friends Sophie and Claire. Do you need to use the lavaroty now or wait till after lunch. I'm not allowed to go this visit but one of these girls can show you where to go." "I'll go after I eat" said Abigail, who was now feeling hungry. Sophie was holding her crotch and Claire was crossing her legs and bouncing. Sophie looked down the hall and said "The pee room is open! We will meet you in the cafeteria!" and hurried off with Claire. Sarah led the way to the cafeteria and the girls joined the line. Abigail and Sarah each took a tray from the pile and a bottle of water from beside them. "Unfortunatly the needle makes you need to pee more and we need to dring more water to stop from getting sick" explained Sarah "There are taps in each classroom so we can keep our water bottles topped up between meals too. I wet myself today though... Its not too bad though and I do need to try to control myself better." Abigail just nodded and took her water and food and followed Sarah to a table. They were soon joined by Sophie and Claire who looked much more relieved after their visit to the lavatory. "Miss Pike was on duty in the pee room" said Claire "Poor Emily was in line ahead of me and didn't quite make it, she got a very hard bare bottom spanking. She was in tears when Miss Pike was through with her." Abigail looked shocked and Claire continued "If you ever get toilet privelediges taken off you for the day don't pee yourelf in Miss Pike's class..." "Yes" agreed Sarah, "You will soon learn which techers are harder than others. Miss Lilly is lovely though, if you pee in her class she only gives you one slap and always lets you keep your knickers on. Lucky we have her this afternoon, I don't know how much longer I can wait.""You told Mistress you could wait till bedtime though" said Abigail. "Of course I did" said Sarah, "What else would I say to her. She wouldn't care anyway. I'm pretty sure they spike the water here to make us need to go more. They say its so we stay healthy but I'm pretty sure it's just to torture us" Abigail had been drinking from her water bottle looked at it and had to agree, she was already feeling a slight need. The girls finished their lunch and Sarah suggested to Abigail that she should go pee before classes. Abigail did not want to wet herself on her first day so she agreed. Sarah led the way to the lavatory and Miss Pike stopped her at the door "You're still wet Sarah, you are not going in now" she glanced at an ipad in her hand "you are on the bloced list for the lavatory until bedtime" "Yes Miss Pike" said Sarah "I'm just showing Abigail where the facilities are. It's her first day" Miss Pike let Abigail through the doors and said "You are just in time. I'll be locking the door when you are done."Abigail stepped through the door and was shocked. She had expected to see a bathroom with toilets and stalls but this was like no other bathroom she had ever been in. She looked around and saw that there were no toilets but only troughs in the floor. She was wondering what to do when a girl who looked a little younger than her burst in through the door "Thank God! Just in time!" the girl yelled. She lifted up her skirt, pulled her knickers aside and put one foot on either side of the trough and started peeing. Abigail just watched in stunned silence while the other girl peed so openly. Then Miss Pike entered the room and told her to hurry up and pee or wait till bedtime. Abigail gingerly pulled down her knickers and removed them completly just to be sure. She glanced around at Miss Pike, who was watching impaitently, squatted down and tried to pee. Nothing happened. She just froze and couldn't let go in such an unfamiliar situation. "Hurry up!" snapped Miss Pike but Abigail's body just wouldn't cooperate. "I can't!" she said "Can you please not watch?" Miss Pike got angry and yelled "No! Time is up now anyway. Get out of the lavaroty now. I won't spank you because it is your first day here but be warned girl!" Abigail hurredly put on her pants and went to meet Sarah who was waiting outside. She told Sarah what had happened "thats rotten luck" Sarah said "you will just need to wait until bedtime. At least if you wet yourelf you won't get a spanking yet. Come on, we have to go to English with Miss Lilly."Abigail and Sarah entered a classroom just as the bell to begin lessons began. Sarah introduced Abigail and they sat down together in the front row. Sarah was jiggling a bit and had her legs squeezed together. Miss Lilly began the lesson on Romeo and Juliette by asking for some student's to read aloud from the book. Sarah was chosen and stood at the front of the class with some others as they took turns reading. Sarah was clearly becoming more and more desperate, crossing her legs and holding herself through her knickers. Since she had no skirt on Abigail could clearly see her fingers pushing up against her pee hole as she danced on the spot while reading from the book. Suddenly Sarah stopped reading and gasped as a small trickle emerged from under Sarah's hand and it rolled down one leg and onto the floor. "Careful Sarah" said Miss Lilly as she noticed the small trickle leave the student "keep reading." Sarah continued reading, pressing harder with her hand until she finished with the scene. Miss Lilly asked the students to return to their seats but Sarah didn't move. She just stood stock still, legs crossed with her hand jammed over her pee hole. "Come on Sarah" said Miss Lilly "Go to your seat, child" Sarah took one step and lost control, peeing down her legs. Abigail watched in shock as the pee travelled down into her socks and shoes and puddled onto the floor. Miss Lilly siged "I haven't had to spank anyone today Sarah. Clean up the floor and bend over the desk. Everone else, turn to page 30 and begin answering the questions on the play." Abigail watched as Sarah collected some paper towels and efficently cleaned up her puddle. She put the towels in the bin and bent over Miss Lilly's desk. Miss Lilly looked at the girl's wet pants, picked up a wooden ruler and slapped Sarah sharply across the bottom. Sarah stood and returned to her seat and continued working.Not long after Abigail could hear a dripping sound like running water and Miss Lilly stood up and said "Who was that!" Claire stood up from a few rows behing and Abigail could see her skirt was soaked and a puddle under the floor. "Clean up Claire then give me your skirt. You have just lost your bedtime lavatory priveledge" As Claire cleaned up Mill Lilly picked up an ipad and entered something onto it. Claire gave Miss Lilly her skirt and returned to work. Abigail could feel her own need growing stronger and she crossed her legs toghether. She looked at the clock, it was almost four oclock and she wondered if she could hang on until 6pm. |
Just a random FE story I felt like writing. There may or may not be more, depending on time and motivation. Probably needs work, constructive criticism is appreciated. Formatting is slightly weirdo because copypasta.
Warning: Lots of messing. If you don't like it, you probably don't want to be reading this.
The four women were out on a job for the Greil mercenaries. A Crimean noble had hired them to hunt down a Begnion spy that had infiltrated their forces. She needed the spy removed removed before their information got back to Begnion’s spy network. Ike had assigned Titania to lead the group, and the paladin was assigned Mia, Jill, and Illyana to go with her. Jill to provide a flying scout, Mia to provide combat power and someone sneaky, and Illyana to act as a mage and a healer. They had set out, mounted on three horses and a wyvern, and were headed into Begnion occupied Daein to find the spy. Mia found his trail easily enough, and they were making good progress.
The party had been traveling for a while, and eventually Jill descended to the others. The dense trees left her scouting virtually useless, and the whole party was nervous about not knowing when they would encounter the spy. After the long day’s travel, Jill’s bladder was bursting, and her stomach was indicating another need as well. Swooping down, she saw Mia yawning with boredom, Illyana devouring some sort of travel ration, and Titania looking almost fine, her slight shifting giving away a similar need.
“Titania, I need to take a quick…break.” Jill said, blushing slightly. The redheaded paladin nodded, thankful someone else had brought it up over her. “Alright everyone, we’re going to stop for a bit. Get some water, stretch, whatever you need.”
The four women dismounted, and Jill turned, frowning as her wyvern let out a low growl. “Is something wrong girl?” she asked quietly, nervously losing a few drips into her panties. What had set the wyvern off? Was their target nearby?
Jill didn’t have time to do much more questioning, as suddenly a fog seemed to rise up around them, and she felt her mind begin to blur. “Wha-“she managed to get out before the potent sleeping gas overtook her, causing the redhead to crumple to the ground in a heap.
The group of women had a glaring weakness: their fortitude. The other three succumbed to the gas just as quickly. When the four women fell to the ground, the twenty men of the enemy brigade sent to retrieve their spy moved out from the trees, their invisibility fading. The spy appeared as well, a beautiful blue haired woman who smirked at the sight of the four unconscious ladies. “Looks like we caught ourselves some mercenaries, men. Collect them and bring them along, I’m sure the mercenaries will pay well for their safe return.”
A pair of men moved to each girl, laughter ensuing from one pair. “Look at her, she’s already peeing herself in her sleep!” one of them called. And indeed, Illyana was wetting herself, her overflowing bladder emptying itself into her purple panties and soaking through the entire front of her skirt, the puddle beneath her spreading and staining her shirt as well. The amused men waited for her to finish peeing, then hefted the unconscious mage over their shoulder, arguing over who would get to enjoy her later when she woke up.
The other pairs picked up the girls, none of them noticing anything out of the ordinary. Throwing them on their horses and leaving the wyvern asleep, the spy and her entourage moved on, carrying the unconscious girls until they made camp for the night a few hours later.
Soon after they set off, Titania’s bladder gave out, her armor quickly filling with warm pee. The bit that did escape from her armor went unnoticed by their captors, however. Mia was less fortunate, her bladder finally giving out a good portion of the way into the ride. Her purple boyshorts and black shorts were quickly saturated with urine, and the soldier carrying her on his horse made sure to give her a good groping with a smirk, checking the extent of the accident. Jill, as usual, somehow lost no control in her sleep, keeping her seemingly perfect lack of bedwetting going.
The girls were tied up and set off to the side while the troops set up camp. Titania was first to awake, immediately turning red as she felt the cold dampness in her trousers beneath her armor, realizing she had pissed herself in her sleep. Her bowels were still a problem however, and despite a few minutes spent attempting it, she couldn’t do much against the bonds other than roll over. She steeled herself to wait, hoping that they’d be untied and be allowed to relieve themselves.
Mia woke up next, fuming with rage as she felt the dampness in her pants. The nerve of those men, to tie her up and make her have an accident like this! She started to struggle against her bonds, but a fart escaped her and her bursting bowels distracted any attention she had towards holding them, not escaping.
Jill awoke next, gasping in pain as the feeling of her bladder and bowels being about to burst overtook her. Curling up in a ball, she moaned, using all her might to hold her control together. Eventually, the pain started to recede, and it became bearable for the time being.
Illyana woke up last, groaning and sitting up. She almost regretting eating all that food as her bowels immediately pressed down on her sphincter, and despite her efforts her muscles were no match for the massive load the mage contained. Her excessive eating habits caused her a lot of problems like this, and there was nothing she could do as the first of the soft mess began slipping into her panties. She groaned as she noisily messed herself, soft poop filling her panties completely, forcing the substance out like a balloon before starting to escape, staining her clothing and the ground around her with her feces. By the time she finished, she was sitting in small pile of shit, her panties ballooned to excessive size from the accident.
Soon enough, a rowdy group of soldiers made their way over, followed by the spy. They loudly guffawed over Illyana’s messy accident, then started to argue over who would get each girl. The mage turned red, hiding her face in shame as they spoke of her massive accident. The spy walked forward, her eyes falling on Mia. The swordsmaster had been working on her bindings again, her bowels somewhat under control, and she was almost ready to escape before the spy lifted her up. “I think I’ll take this cutie. The other three are yours.” She told the men. Leading Mia to her tent, she set the tied up swordsmaster on the bed, where Mia continued to discreetly work on her bindings.
The spy traced her finger along Mia’s wet shorts, smiling lustily. “Get your hands off me, bitch!” Mia shouted in response, angered at her touch.
“Seems I’ve got a feisty one.” The spy replied, smiling down at the tied up swordsmaster. She started to say something else, but it was cut off by an involuntary fart from Mia, this one staining her boyshorts a bit. “Oh my, she even has to go. And you already wet yourself dear. Are you sure Ike should be letting you girls out on missions all alone?”
Mia fumed in response, wanting nothing more than to rip the spy apart. She stayed working on her bonds, however, and knew it wouldn’t be long until she could accomplish just what she wanted.
The spy ran her hands along Mia’s bottom, feeling the slight wetness from the momentarily loss of control. “Don’t go in your pants quite yet dear, I’ve got something to help with your problem.” The spy told her, standing up and retrieving a package from her things. She produced a puffy white diaper from inside it, moving back towards Mia. “How about we get you in this so you don’t ruin those nice panties of yours any worse, alright dear?”
At the sight of the humiliating garment, Mia nearly exploded with rage. Encouraged by anger, she tore off the last of the bonds as the spy approached her. “Alondite!” she shouted, summoning her bonded sword to her hand. Bringing the huge blade forward, she expertly placed the tip right against the spy’s neck. “Don’t even think about it.” The swordsmaster growled. The spy, caught by surprise, froze, trembling in fear. Not trained for combat, her cowardly nature showed in response to the blade’s cold touch, a loud hissing indicating the release of her bladder. Her tight leather pants were quickly soaked with piss, a small puddle forming at her feet. The back of her pants bulged out considerably, the spy fearfully pushing several firm logs of poo into her panties.
“Perhaps you’re the one who should be in those.” Mia declared. Willing her sowrd ot activate, a burst of green energy speared out of the tip and separated the spy’s head from her body. Smiling, Mia gathered up the stolen information, frowning at some of it. It was a picture of a dark haired woman, a fancy gown tossed to the side, wearing a soiled diaper. There were several more, and a number of undiapered ones as well, the same woman wearing wet or soiled panties. With a start, Mia realized they were pictures of the noble. So that was why she was willing to pay so much for the spy’s removal. Stowing the papers, Mia turned to leave but stopped, hunching over with a groan. She had put it off to long, and her bowels were willing to wait no longer. All she could do was let out a pained grown as she began to force liquid poo into her pants, staining her purple boyshorts brown and the back of her shorts as well, brown liquid trailing down her legs and puddling beneath her. She crouched, hunched over for several minutes and simply uncontrollably releasing liquid mess into her shorts.
The men couldn’t bring themselves to try and retrieve Illyana from her mess, though many tried to work up the courage. A pair of the largest ones managed to win Titania, lifting herby her arms and carrying the paladin to their tent. Setting her down, they began to strip off her armor, the process taking almost ten minutes as she struggled against them the whole time. “You’re going to pay for making this so difficult, redheaded bitch.” One of the told her, frustrated at trying to get a trap loose. Eventually however, they managed it, and Titania was left in just her bra and panties, her soaked trousers and undershirt tossed aside.
“Now for your punishment.” One declared. He sat down on the bed, laying Titania over his lap, and began spanking her. The redhead could only moan in pain, and perhaps a bit of pleasure, as the enemy soldier spanked her through her red panties. First a fart escaped her, then a small lump of poo, then a full-fledged messing accident as she reflexively pushed a considerable lump of soft poop into her panties in response to the continued pain of the spanking.
The man laughed, pushing her away in disgust. “They don’t even potty train their women. Some famous mercenaries these are, can’t even keep control of their bowels.” He finished with a laugh. The other one roughly groped Titania’s breasts, and the pair moved in. Suddenly, however, one of them began coughing up blood, a sword protruding from his chest. They both turned to each other, the uninjured one speaking. “What’s wrong, why are you-“ his words were cut off as the sword was turned to face him with the man’s body, a blast of green light sending him flying backwards and ending his life.
Mia pulled her sword out, stepping forward and leaking a bit more wet mess as she did so. “Come on Titania, let’s get out of here.” she told the paladin, cutting the redhead’s bonds and helping her to her feet. “I already freed Illyana, and she’s dealing with the rest of them. And I got the info.”
The redhead nodded, relieved. That mission had taken a turn for the worse, and she was glad she had resourceful enough subordinates that they wouldn’t be held captive for long. She began the slow process of donning her armor, wishing she had something to change into first.
Jill was taken away last, a group of three driving the others away. They took her into a large tent, and began stripping down, obviously intent on raping her. When the three approached her, she fearfully retreated back. “P-please don’t…” she stuttered. Her bladder and bowels involuntarily released, her white leggings quickly staining with piss and revelaing her soaked red panties beneath. Soft mess filled her panties beneath her, escaping and sliding along her leggings, filling the small amount of space there and turning the back of her legs brown. It was all an act, however, and she backed straight into the head of an axe, driving her bonds right into the blade and cutting them. As the men approached, she suddenly moved like lighting, quick burn increasing her speed to above-average levels and snatching an axe from the wall, three swift strokes dispatching the three unsuspecting guards. Letting out a sigh of relief, the redhead moved over to their things, collecting their gear before heading outside.
Illyana, freed by Mia and handed a pilfered lighting tome, a Thoron no less, wreaked havoc on the camp. Massive lightning bolts tore soldiers in half, the unassuming mage tearing apart the soldiers. When Mia and Jill joined the fight, the soldiers were quickly eradicated. Titania joined them, fully armored and her accident mostly hidden. “Good job girls, we’ve got what we came for.” The paladin declared.
“And, the world is now short some jerks!” Mia added.
“Now we just have to head home, but I don’t wanna go like this…” Illyana complained.
“I have an idea.” Mia replied, disappearing into the spy’s tent before reappearing with her clothing case. Opening it, a variety of pants and panties awaited them. “Let’s clean up, then go home.” Mia told them. The others nodded in agreement, and they set right to the task, Titania providing her usual support and assisting her subordinates in cleaning up, doing her best to comfort each of them. |
I Haven't Peed Yet Today
Tsunade barged into her office room, still a bit disoriented owing to her early morning sleepiness. With her joints pained and mood disgruntled, she took her seat behind the desk.
Sitting with her head held in hands, Tsunade heard the creaking sound as someone opened the door.
“Your coffee, m’lady”, Shizune said, as she placed the cup in her hand on the Hokage’s table.
“Bring the reports that require attestation,” Tsunade ordered, barely lifting her face.
“At once, m’lady,” Shizune nodded, before she turned around and walked out.
The fresh rays of morning sun, filtering in through the windows was making Tsunade’s headache worse. She slowly went for the cup of coffee on her table and took a sip. There was not a part of her body that wasn’t pulsating in pain.
Last night was as typical as any. Tsunade and Shizune had been to a local bar where they both got drunk, quite heavily to be precise. The two of them then went on to roam around the village streets late past mid-night, with Shizune wetting everywhere she thought no one could see her. As far as Shizune could recollect the entire episode through the clouds of her deeply intoxicated mind, she had to empty her bladder around five to six times before they got back home after their small excursion. The last thing she could recall from the previous night was stumbling towards her room and falling onto her bed.
Tsunade’s coffee cup had ran empty before Shizune returned with a heap of papers in her hands, “Here it is, m’ lady, the documents you asked for,” she breathed heavily as she transferred the heavy weight onto the table.
“Thank you. You may leave now,” Tsunade said in a slightly sore voice.
“You look unwell, m’lady,” Shizune said in concern.
“Yeah..., effects from last night’s outing haven’t worn off yet, too much sake always takes a toll on me. Every fiber of my body hurts, mostly my back,” Tsunade said, touching her spine where it ached.
“Do you want me to get you some pain-killers, m’lady?”
“No, I’ll be fine…” The Sanin stated, holding her forehead for a second.
“Okay,” Shizune replied before she left the room.
As she saw her apprentice walk out, Tsunade crossed her legs under the desk. Her thigh felt heavy over the other and her lower back hurt. She squirmed a bit to find a more comfortable position and began working.
A while passed and Tsunade stopped writing when there was a sudden knock on the door, “May I come in, m’ lady?”
Tsunade could tell it was Sakura, she could recognize the Chunin’s voice anywhere.
“Come in.”
“Morning, m’lady,” Sakura smiled as she stepped in and closed the door behind her.
“I am glad that you decided to lend a hand with all of this office work, Shizune too could really use some help with those heaps of paper she has to get in here,” Tsunade said.
“Anytime, m’lady…” responded Sakura.
“Good, now I’d like you to go through all these papers and pick out the ones that need my seal on them, do you think you can do it?” Tsunade questioned the young girl.
“Sure, it will be done before you know it!” Sakura beamed.
As Sakura was sorting out all the crucial documents from the piles of paper stacked on the Hokage’s desk, she saw Lady Tsunade squirming uncomfortably on her seat. At first, she ignored it, thinking of it as none of her business but then, when Lady Tsunade’s wriggling became more frequent, Sakura found impossible to overlook it.
“Lady Tsunade? Are you alright?” she asked.
“Yes, I just have to go to the bathroom” Tsunade spoke, “I haven’t peed yet today.”
“Oh..” Sakura found herself blushing in embarrassment. She saw Lady Tsunade as a strong headed woman who held herself to a particularly high standard. She could have never expected the Sanin to be so open about her bodily needs. It was so unladylike. Anyway, Sakura let it slide to the back of her mind and continued working.
Half an hour passed and Sakura could see Lady Tsunade fidgeting more than ever. She wondered why the Hokage wouldn’t just go the bathroom if she needed it this bad?
“Err… m’ lady, I am sorry to meddle in your personal matter but…” Sakura stopped, unsure if she should say it or not.
“Go on?” Tsunade said.
“…why won’t you just go to the toilet if you need to? You look really uncomfortable,” Sakura spoke.
“Yes, I do need to go but I absolutely hate to interrupt my work for petty things like bathroom breaks. And I think I can hold it off a little while longer, so it’s nothing to get concerned about” Tsunade smiled with reassurance.
Although Tsunade was trying to be her usual confident self, she was a little embarrassed to know that she had reached the point where she couldn’t hide her desperation from Sakura any longer. But it didn’t matter, she would go relieve herself the first thing when she was done with all these ninja registrations.
Last night had been a slight breeze of amusement for Tsunade as well. She remembered how she and Shizune drank like there was no tomorrow. Eight bottles of rice beer had gone straight down Tsunade’s gullet like water flowing through a river. She remembered how Shizune had started complaining about needing to take a piss as soon as they left the bar. She was not even half as drunk as Tsunade was, yet she said she absolutely had to pee. Tsunade hated it when Shizune showed such signs of weakness. According to her, a lady must know how to hold her drinks and Shizune was certainly not a lady in her opinion, at least not a classy one.
Sickened by Shizune’s banter about how badly she needed to pee, Tsunade had suggested her several spots where she could relieve herself. Shizune had used these suggestions to their fullest potential and emptied her bladder whenever she felt the need. After they had roamed around the village streets till they couldn’t walk any longer, they headed back to the Hokage’s mansion.
Tsunade remembered feeling nauseous when she stepped inside the front door of her home. She hadn’t even cared about changing into her night clothes before she stumbled onto her bed and fell asleep.
Night went and morning came, and Tsunade woke up, brushed her teeth, set her hair and left for work.
In the office, as minutes crawled by, Sakura noticed that Tsunade was getting more and more fidgety. She could see that the Sanin couldn’t sit still even for a moment. Sakura now knew that Tsunade must be really desperate to be acting like this.
“Okay, I really have to go to the bathroom now,” Tsunade said, as she stood up from her seat and held her abdomen, where a distinct bladder bulge could be seen peeking out over the waistline of her pants.
But just when she took her first step towards the door, Shizune charged in, “M’lady! They need your help at the hospital. One of our shinobi was found in the woods close to the village, unconscious and grievously poisoned. The doctors have tried everything but nothing seems to work, you are the only one who can save him now..”
Tsunade sighed. She had to pee but attending to the needy was more important. She took a deep breath and said, “Let’s go!” She braced herself to have to hold her pee for a long time and quickly walked out of the room. “What of his remaining squad members? Any information about them?”
“No, they are still missing, m’lady,” Shizune reported.
“Then we must make sure he survives. He knows things that we don’t” Tsunade said.
“Like what?” Sakura asked.
“Like who did this to him and where are his squad members” Shizune said.
“Oh, yeah,” Sakura breathed.
As they walked towards the hospital with quick steps, Tsunade felt waves of urine crashing against the walls of her badly distended bladder. It would have been nice if she got a chance to relieve herself before she saw the patient but she knew there was no time to waste. Even a second’s delay could cost the shinobi’s life.
Tsunade saw a group of medical-nin surrounding the patient when she entered the operation theatre.
“What’s the condition?” she asked as she looked at the shinobi’s body, which had turned into a darker shade of blue in color.
“His red blood cells are getting destroyed by the poison, m’lady, which is a sign of hemotoxin in the blood stream” a senior medical-nin reported, “But strangely, he is suffering from severe necrosis in his leg as well, which is causing premature death of cells in that region. The whole lower leg has turned black, the poison is spreading up. Looking at the rest of his body, he’s showing signs of muscle wastage from the poison. It's likely he will die.”
“No, I won’t let him die. I will take it from here on,” Tsunade said, checking the shinobi’s pulse rate, “Sakura, bring me a bowl of hot water and a sanitized clothe. Shizune, get me a scalpel and surgical retractors. Everyone else can leave.”
Both the women quickly ran to get the required things while Tsunade prepared for the surgery.
As she began the operation, Tsunade felt a strong spasm from her bladder. She was getting desperate to use the toilets but she knew now was not the time. She needed to concentrate on the surgery or else the thin thread that was holding the shinobi’s life, would be broken.
A few hours into the operation left Tsunade’s bladder bursting at the seams. She rubbed her thighs together as she treated the shinobi’s leg, “I’m dying to pee…” she breathed quite heavily.
“Do you need to take a break?” Shizune asked.
“No, it is more important to finish the operation first, I can’t just put a hold on my duties as a medic, when someone’s life is in danger.”
From where she was standing, Sakura could see Tsunade’s outrageously expanded bladder. Her bulge looked like a watermelon, jutting out of her gut. Sakura didn’t know how Tsunade was even able to stand when she needed to pee so badly?
As the surgery continued, Tsunade kept on crossing her legs and squeezing her crotch from time to time. She was going out of her mind, needing to take a massive piss but she couldn’t just abandon the surgery in between. The only way she had, was to hold it till the end.
But as time passed, the pressure in her bladder increased to an awful extent, leaving her unsure if she would be able to hold it much longer. Her hands shivered as she operated the unconscious man, hoping all her efforts would bear the fruit of success.
By the next twenty minutes, she had reached to the point where she couldn’t keep her legs still even for a second. She was hopping foot to foot and drawing in air through her pursed lips. Her actions made it obvious to Shizune and Sakura just how desperate she was.
Wow! She really needs to pee!, Sakura thought as she saw Tsunade again hold herself between the legs. She had never seen Tsunade like this before. She could imagine the kind of stress and tension the Sanin must have been going through at the moment.
The pressure to save the shinobi’s life was already beginning to effect Tsunade but even greater was the pressure in her bladder. She had never felt her bladder so stretched or full ever before. It was swollen rock hard by this point, full with an awful amount of urine.
“My bladder is about explode,” Tsunade moaned, as she crossed her legs tightly together and tried her best to concentrate on the operation.
“M’lady, I’d suggest you take a break and go relieve yourself. It will help you think more clearly and concentrate better on the surgery” Sakura said.
“You’re right, I just can’t think of anything else..” Tsunade said as she dropped the scalpel in her hand on the operating table and quickly walked out of the room.
“Heh..” Shizune smiled at Sakura as they saw Tsunade rush for the toilets, “She was really bursting” she giggled.
“Yeah, she said she had been holding it since last night” Sakura replied.
After a few minutes, Lady Tsunade came back, still looking rather panicked. One look at her, the way she was walking, the expression on her face, told Sakura and Shizune that she hadn’t been to the toilet.
“Are you alright, m’lady? What happened?” Shizune asked.
“I couldn’t go, the toilets are closed for maintenance,” Tsunade said thoughtlessly in a panic stricken state, as she went straight back to the operating table. Her bladder had begun to anticipate the pee, but she couldn’t relieve herself after all. She was so close to losing control that she was shivering with the effort it was taking to hold on.
Sakura and Shizune couldn’t believe the kind of dedication and effort Lady Tsunade was showing to save the shinobi’s life. She was ready to hold her pee to the very last minute if it meant she could make this surgery a success. No other medical-nin they knew, had the devotion or the spirit to do that.
Tsunade’s hands trembled as she picked the scalpel back up, as a look of worry covered her face.
“Let’s hurry this up, I can’t hold it much longer…” she exclaimed, panic and desperation clearly spilling from her voice.
Shizune and Sakura nodded in unison to this, ready to help in any way they could.
Somehow half an hour passed and Tsunade was still holding on, but she definitely wanted to go more. Not only was her bladder hurting more, in fact it was in agony, but the need to pee was even more urgent, taking more effort to hold back. She glanced down at her bladder area and saw how swollen it was. Her abdomen was absolutely rock hard, so hard she could hardly believe it.
She was squeezing herself between the legs whenever she could, feeling that every second she could help her struggling sphincter was a second longer she could wait. She even kept pulling the waistband of her pants away from her agonized bladder, hoping it would take some pressure off.
There was a point where Tsunade stopped what she was doing, closed her eyes and tried to concentrate on the surgery other than her desperation, trying to convince herself that it would not get any worse and she could manage to hold it till the end of the operation.
But her reverie was interrupted when a quick shot of pee escaped into her panties. Oh god, she was beginning to go in her pants!
“Dammit, I am starting to go!,” Tsunade wailed as she continued the surgery with her trembling hands, while she pressed her thighs together as tightly as she could.
Sakura and Shizune could do nothing to help Tsunade now. All they could do, was help her get done with the operation as soon as she could.
Another small spurt leaked out of Tsunade's tormented sphincters and soaked further into her already damp underwear.
She focused the entire reservoir of strength left in her body, on her pee hole and forced it tight shut. She could not let any more pee come out until she was on the toilet.
For a moment she crossed her legs tightly as she held the side of the operating table for support, at the same time sticking her bottom out to help take some of the unbearable pressure off her bursting bladder.
It didn’t help much though. The pressure was enormous, no wonder it hurt so much, she wanted to pee so urgently. She didn’t know how much longer could she possibly last. Would she simply give way and start wetting herself, or could she keep her sphincter shut until something awful happened, like her bladder exploded?
Tsunade frantically stitched the operated area of the shinobi’s leg back as more pee squirted out of her exhausted body. There was a wet patch on the crotch of her pants now, and it was continuously growing with each dribble of pee that escaped her.
Sakura and Shizune couldn’t believe what they were seeing. Lady Tsunade was beginning to wet herself right in front of their eyes.
Tsunade hurried through the last leg of the surgery, desperate to find a bathroom before the rest of her pee came out on its own. When it was finally over, she handed over the command to Shizune and walked out of the operation theatre, grabbing her crotch as tightly as she could. It had taken ten long hours to make the surgery a success and now, all Tsunade wanted, was to get inside a bathroom and take a long, relieving piss.
With small but hurried baby steps, Tsunade walked out of the hospital building, with a wet patch the size of an adult’s palm on the crotch of her pants, with Sakura right behind her.
As Tsunade hastily walked through the empty streets, towards the Hokage’s mansion, more and more squirts of pee shot out of her.
“I don’t think, I can hold it any longer…” she breathed heavily.
“Then just pee…!” Sakura said, “Stop torturing your body, you’re already starting to wet yourself, just go behind the bushes if you need it so badly…!”
“I can’t, what if someone sees me,” Tsunade moaned, grabbing her crotch tighter and walking as fast as her distended bladder could allow.
“Nobody will see, I’ll stand guard,” Sakura said.
That was all the assurance Tsunade needed. “Alright…” she breathed as she quickly hobbled towards the woods on the roadside and walked a few meters in, hoping to get as much privacy as she could while Sakura followed her.
When she reached a secluded spot, in one lightening movement, Tsunade dragged her pants and panties down to her knees and began squatting down to pee. Sakura had a perfect view, standing on one side. Tsunade could not wait until she was squatting, but the instant her panties were down and her legs just starting to bend, her pee came blasting out. Sakura had never seen anyone pee like it before, a jet of pee that seemed at least half an inch across, with such force that she expected to see it make a hole in the path.
Tsunade’s stream looked like a bath tab turned full on and the pressure with which it was pouring out was even more incredible. Sakura just couldn’t imagine how Lady Tsunade had been containing all that pressure inside her for so long.
“At last! Oh the relief,” Tsunade muttered under her breath with her eyes closed. With her knees supporting her stretched out hands, Tsunade just sat there, peeing endlessly.
Sakura couldn’t believe the sheer volume of urine that was pouring out of Lady Tsunade. It was just mind-boggling!
“Looks like you really had to go ha?” Sakura said, looking at the torrent of pee, shooting across a meter from Tsunade’s crotch.
“Yes, I was dying,” Tsunade sighed, happiness and relief beaming from her face.
Sakura looked at Tsunade’s bare bottom as the elder kunoichi continued to empty her bladder on the floor of the woods.
It took a few minutes before the torrent suddenly died away, then after a couple more short blasts, Tsunade was finished.
The Sanin stood up slowly, pulled up her pants, and put both hands across her bladder to demonstrate how much it was still hurting her.
“I have never, ever, wanted to pee so badly in all my life. I don’t know how I managed to hold out so long, I thought I was going to die in that operation theatre, I was so desperate I could hardly move my legs. If I had been there another five minutes, I would have lost control, I was just about at my limit” she said, enjoying the feeling of her now deflated bladder.
Sakura looked at the huge puddle Tsunade’s pee had produced. The total volume of the foamy puddle of urine on the ground was simply amazing. Sakura couldn’t believe Tsunade could hold this much. If only she could have measured the volume, the Sanin would surely have broken all the records for human bladder capacity.
“You cannot tell anybody about this” Tsunade said as they began to walk back towards the street, “And if you do, I’ll make sure you’re demoted back to a Genin.”
“I won’t tell anyone, I swear,” Sakura replied, as she followed the Hokage out of the woods. |
A/N: Another commission for one of my favorite novels. This one will not focus on omorashi until towards the end, but it will focus on bathroom-related things. Namely, culture shock, and learning about human customs. Leggo!
Sometimes Damsel felt like keeping Elphin around was like keeping a pet, or, if she were to be a bit more flattering, raising a child. She understood that the fairy- if her origin story was true and that was what she really was- had seen a lot, yet seen nothing of the modern world, and she understood that she had a responsibility to take care of her, but that was often easier said than done.
She had let herself believe that the fairy had adjusted enough to society to be allowed to run errands on her own. Elphin had learned how currency worked and could carry on conversation without sounding too terribly unusual. It seemed as though she could be trusted with these simple tasks, but when the fairy was brought home by law enforcement, Damsel began to have second thoughts.
“She came with us peacefully, at least,” said one of the men. “We don't think she really knew what she was doing wrong, but she came peacefully.”
“What, exactly, did she do?” asked Damsel, already dreading whatever the answer may be.
“Well...we caught her attempting to, uh...urinate in public.”
~X~
A long discussion followed, in which Damsel tried to explain to Elphin why that was not something she should be doing. Of course, she was confused, insisting that that was always how she had done it before. She claimed that she understood how bathrooms and toilets worked, but didn't see why, if you were already outdoors, it wasn't perfectly acceptable to relieve yourself there.
“It just isn't how things are done,” Damsel said at last. “I know it's hard to adjust to all of these new rules, but there are just some things you'll have to do, okay?”
“Yes, I will try,” said the fairy. Her mentor could only hope that that would be the end of the problem.
~X~
Of course, it wasn't. Damsel had at least known better than to send Elphin out on her own for a bit, just to make sure that she didn't have any more problems. Once it had been determined that she was adapting properly, it would be fine to let her out on her own.
But for now, the two went out together, and one day, Elphin excused herself for the bathroom. Damsel quizzed her a bit, making sure she knew what that meant, what buildings to go into, what sort of signs to follow, and Elphin answered impatiently, making it clear that she knew everything, but she had to go now.
And she took off quickly for a public bathroom, and Damsel followed behind, losing her a bit in the crowd. By the time she reached the building, Elphin had already gone inside, so she decided to wait outside until she came out.
First, a small group of men came rushing out of their respective bathrooms, looking confused and somewhat afraid. She inquired after what had sent them running out like that, though she already had her suspicions.
“Some chick came in there,” one of the men said.
“Looked kinda young,” said another. “No way in hell I'm riskin' getting in trouble over something like that!”
Damsel sighed and pushed past them to retrieve Elphin. It seemed that she had not quite grasped the concept of gendered bathrooms just yet.
~X~
Once again, the two went on errands together as another test run for Elphin's ability to adapt. This time, Damsel hoped that there would be no serious complications. She had taught Elphin everything she could about public decorum, especially that involving bathroom etiquette, had repeated things over and over, and could only pray that this time, Elphin had actually retained what she had been taught.
This time, when she excused herself, Damsel insisted on coming with her. She was pleased to see the fairy study the signs on the doors before selecting the correct bathroom, and they stepped inside together. All was going well, and she breathed a sigh of relief to see her teammate had learned.
And then Elphin entered the stall, lifted her dress, pulled down her panties, and sat down on the toilet, all without closing the door, and Damsel realized she had to teach her about the concept of modesty.
~X~
The heroine felt as though she would never get the fairy fully adapted. She could talk about proper human protocol until she was blue in the face, and there was still always something off. All she wanted was to help Elphin make a new life for herself, but she felt as though she were failing in that.
She did not let Elphin know that she felt that way, however, and continued to allow the fairy to go out in public with her. It was during one such outing that she started to regain some hope. There had been no incidences of any sort, and though Elphin was a bit more quiet than usual, she didn't think anything of it. As long as things were going well, that was a sign that there was still hope.
In fact, she was so pleased about the success of their outing that she did not stop to think about the fact that the fairy hadn't attempted to visit a bathroom all day, and did not connect that to her strange bout of quietness. In fact, even when Elphin became quite fidgety and agitated, she did not put two and two together.
“What's wrong?” asked Damsel.
“I am fine,” was the only response she received and, though she did not believe it, she didn't press the issue further.
But her behavior did not improve, her movements became rather jerky, and she looked pained whenever she took a step. She began pestering Damsel about when they would return home, and Damsel tried to speed up the process as much as she could.
Suddenly, the fairy slowed and then stopped, whimpering slightly. They were so close to home that Damsel wanted to tell her to just hurry it up, but she stopped herself when she saw what was happening. Elphin had her hands jammed between her legs, and there a dark spot spreading across the front of her dress.
A look of relief crossed her previously agonized face, and a trickling sound could be heard as pee ran down her legs, hitting the pavement. The poor thing was wetting herself, and Damsel had not realized the problem soon enough. She felt bad for being so impatient with her, but she had genuinely not known what was going on- though now she realized she should have.
Elphin gave a small sigh as she finished emptying her bladder, and she looked up at Damsel, her face questioning what would happen next. This would be another thing she was unfamiliar with, and she wouldn't know what sort of reaction she would be met with.
“You poor thing,” was all Damsel said. “Why didn't you tell me you had to?”
“Because there are so many rules and customs and I cannot keep up with them!” said Elphin. “It all gets so very complicated, and I had hoped that I could wait until we were home.”
Damsel smiled reassuringly and said, “It's okay, I understand how hard it must be for you. I'm sorry I was so pushy about everything. Let's get you home and cleaned up, okay? And next time, just let me know what's wrong. I'm always here to help you.”
A/N: Ugh, not my best work by far, I couldn't seem to make the scenarios play out in a way that felt like a concrete story. I did what I could, but if it was an utter disappointment, I apologize. |
Hi all. I've been doing a few omorashi parodies of fairytales recently, Cinderwetta, Hansel and Wetel, that kind of thing. Here's my fairly faithful take on the classic Bram Stoker's Dracula with a simple twist. Instead of needing blood to survive, Countess Wetula needs a slightly different fluid to sustain her eternal life. Hope you like it!
Count Wetula
Lucy Wild
A vampire meets a victim desperate to please
Chapter 1
Jennifer Harker’s Journal
2 May – Left Munich at 8.35 on 1st May, arriving in Vienna early the next morning. Should have arrived at 6.46 but the train was an hour late. We sat outside the station and I became increasingly uncomfortable, the toilet having been out of order since leaving the German border. At 6.10 I could no longer wait and sought relief somewhere within the carriage. I was corralled in a four seater with two women and a lone individual who gave all the indications of being sound asleep. I found a coffee mug under my seat and whilst my bladder threatened to overflow at any moment, I placed a blanket across my lap before raising my skirts to my waist. I glanced across as the sleeping figure opposite me stirred momentarily before settling again. I could last no longer so pulled my panties to one side and pressed the mug against my pussy. The coldness of the ceramic sent a chill through me as I relaxed my body and felt a trickle of pee drip into the mug.
At that point the train jerked forward and one of the women awoke with a yawn. She muttered a good morning to me in German whilst I held my breath, the mug remaining in place whilst I fought to prevent any further pee from escaping.
As the woman turned to stare out of the window I tried to let a rivulet of urine escape me to ease the pressure upon my bladder. Sadly the noise was such that the woman turned back to me and stared with a frown forming upon her features. I coughed loudly to hide the hissing sound as best I could whilst what felt like a torrential river leaked from me into the mug.
The woman smiled as she seemed to realise what I was doing. “English?” she whispered, glancing across at her companion. I nodded in response. “I need pee also,” she said.
I nodded again, realising modesty was beyond me at this point. Pee flowed out of me until I glanced under my blanket, realising the mug was close to overflowing. As I looked up again, the blanket slipped down to reveal my spread legs and bare pussy to the woman’s shocked gaze.
She put a finger to her lips as the last of the pee dribbled from me, running down the side of the completely full mug. I put the mug beside me as I brushed my skirt back down into place. The woman picked up the mug. “I use?” she asked.
“It will need emptying first,” I replied quietly.
The woman nodded and then pressed the mug to her lips, gulping down the contents in an instant. I was shocked to my core at the sight, realising what I thought I knew of Europe was but a pinprick. Once she drained the mug, she raised her own skirts without attempting to hide from view. I caught sight of her pussy as she pressed the mug between her legs and immediately sighed with relief as pee gushed from her. It sprayed across the carriage, most of it missing the mug before she regained control and the drinking vessel began to noisily fill with urine.
“I cannot stop,” she said in panic as the mug filled. Not wanting the others to awaken, I realised I had to help. I took the mug from her as she held her bladder in check, wriggling on her seat as she did so. I looked at the contents and then held my breath as I drank down the pee, finding it surprisingly warming in the chill of the morning.
Once drained, I passed back the mug and the woman finished urinating within it. She did not lower her skirts when she had ended her task, instead smiling at me as she began to gently stroke herself. I found myself unable to look away, staring in silence as she masturbated gently, her eyes closed. I could not resist reaching down as my own body began to awaken with desire. I found the end of my skirts and raised them until I was able to copy her movements on my own pussy. We sat staring at each other as we touched ourselves. My clitoris throbbed with desire as I stroked it and to my surprise the woman moved to her knees and shuffled across the carriage, her tongue stretching out to lap at my juices.
I stifled a gasp as she expertly delved inside me, her hand remaining on her pussy as she brought me towards climax. When she dipped two fingers into me, it sent me over the edge and I came, biting my lip to keep as quiet as I could, a moan escaping me as my pussy twitched around her digits.
Once I’d calmed down again, I glanced down to see her reach her own orgasm a moment later. She looked as if she might scream and in my desire to keep her silent, I embraced her, plunging my tongue into her mouth and stifling her noises to little more than a whimper.
She pulled away from me as the train moved into the station and once we came to a stop at the platform I rose before she, leaving the train for a glimpse at Budapest. I walked through the streets for as long as I dared, trying to clear my head from the secret encounter I’d just experienced. I feared moving too far from the station, for as we’d arrived late I knew we would start as near the correct time as possible.
The impression I had when we entered the East over the Danube which was of noble width and depth, took us among the traditions of Turkish rule.
We left in good time but my companion was nowhere to be seen. At nightfall we reached Klausenpiss. Here I spent the night at the Hotel Desperate. I had for supper a chicken done up with red pepper, which was good but thirst inducing. I asked for the waitress and she said it was called paprika hendl and that it was a national dish I should be able to get anywhere along the Carpathians.
I found my own smattering of German useful here and indeed I don’t know how I would have got on without it. Having some time at my disposal when back in London I had visited the British Museum and searched among the books and maps in the library regarding Transylvania. It had struck me that some foreknowledge of the country could hardly fail to have some importance in dealing with a noblewoman of that country.
I found the district she named laid in the extreme east of the country on the borders of Transylvania, Moldavia and Bukovina in the midst of the Carpathian mountains, one of the wildest and least known portions of Europe.
I was not able to light on any map giving the exact locality of Castle Wetula as there were no maps of this country as yet to compare with our own Ordnance Survey Maps. I found that Pissritz, the post town named by Countess Wetula is a fairly well known place. I shall enter here some of my notes so they might refresh my memory when I talk over my travels.
I did not sleep well though my bed was comfortable enough for I had all sorts of queer dreams. It may have been the paprika for I had to drink all the water in my carafe and was still thirsty. Towards morning I slept at last and was wakened by continuous knocking at my door.
I opened it to find a maid carrying a chamber pot. She spoke neither English or German and I was unable to make her aware of my desire for privacy. As such I had no choice, the water within me making me desperate to urinate, but to go in front of her.
She set the chamber pot on the floor and helped me remove my nightgown. Once naked I squatted over the pot and to my surprise the maid lowered herself to her knees and pulled apart my pussy lips, ignoring my protests. Unable to hold in my pee any longer I began to urinate and I found the flow ran through her fingers before beginning to fill the pot. As I peed, her fingers brushed over my clitoris and a shiver ran through me. At the sight of my surprise, the maid planted a kiss on my lips, moving her hand under the flow of my pee until she slid a finger up into me. She continued to kiss me until I had finished peeing, whereupon she slid the pot into her hands and poured the contents over her uniform. It soaked the fabric in such a way that the shape of her body became visible to me, her nipples stiff and pointing in my direction. She pushed me onto my back on the floor and climbed onto me, continuing to finger me as she planted soft kisses on my neck. I found my hand moved up her dress to her naked bottom and I could not resist groping and squeezing her round buttocks as she gasped for breath. When I found the hole between her cheeks I went to move on but she pushed back onto my hand and then I was inside her bottom. She rocked against my finger as she continued to fuck me until I could last no longer. An orgasm raced through my body as she rubbed her pussy against my thigh, using me to reach her own climax within a minute.
Once she had recovered from her orgasm, she stood up and curtseyed, carrying away the chamber pot and leaving me to dress myself for the day.
For breakfast I had more paprika and a sort of porridge which they called mamaliga, a very excellent dish. I had to hurry to carry the train and rushed to the station with the morning coffee sloshing around inside me. I had to sit in the carriage for over an hour before we began to move. It seems to me that the further east you go, the more unpunctual the trains are. What must they be like in China?
All day long my need to pee grew ever stronger as we dawdled through a country which was full of beauty of every kind. Sometimes we saw little towns or castles on the top of steep hills, sometimes we ran by rivers and streams which made my need to pee ever stronger until I could not sit still upon my seat.
At every station there were groups of people in all sorts of attire. Some of them were just like the peasants at home with short jackets, round hats and home made trousers but others were very picturesque.
The women looked pretty except when you got near them for they all seemed to have dark stains upon their crotches. They stood in full white sleeves and most of them had big belts with strips of something fluttering from them like the dresses in a ballet but of course there were wet petticoats under them.
It was on the dark side of twilight when we got to Pissritz which is a very interesting old place. I was positively bursting for the toilet, cursing the lack of facilities in my train when I reached the Golden Shower Hotel which Countess Wetula had directed me towards. I found it thoroughly old fashioned and I was obviously expected for when I got near the door I faced a cheery looking elderly woman in the usual peasant dress – white undergarment with a long double apron of coloured stuff that fitted too tight for modesty, her nipples almost visible as her breasts spilled over the tip. When I came close she bowed, her breasts falling free as she said, “Frau Englishwoman?”
“Yes,” I said. “Jennifer Harker. I must use your toilet before I go any further.”
She smiled and gave some message to an elderly man in white shirtsleeves who had followed her to the door. He went but immediately returned with a letter which I read whilst wriggling on the spot, my bladder threatening to explode at any moment.
“My friend, welcome to the Carpathians. I am anxiously expecting you. Sleep well tonight. At three tomorrow the diligence will start for Bukovina, a place on it is kept for you. At the Borgo Pass my carriage will await you and bring you to me. I trust that your journey from London has been a happy one and that you will enjoy your stay in my beautiful land – Your friend, Wetula.”
I looked up at the woman whose boobs were still hanging free from the front of her dress. “The toilet?” I asked but she just frowned. I mimed the motion of urinating and to my chagrin she misunderstood entirely. She murmured to herself before shrugging and then lifting her skirts to her waist. She squatted in the dirt and began to pee, all the time looking up at me for approval as I tried to get her to stop.
The sight of her urinating so freely made my own bladder lose control and I felt a leaking trickle run down my thigh having soaked through my panties in less than a second. I sighed to myself before squatting beside the woman and pulling my knickers to one side so that the rest of my pee could sink into the ground under my feet. As I peed I let out a deep sigh of relief whilst the other guests of the hotel walked past without batting an eyelid as if this were a common occurrence in this country.
4 May - I found that my landlord had got a letter from the Countess, directing him to secure the best place on the coach for me but on making inquiries as to details he seemed somewhat reticent and pretended he could not understand my German.
This could not be true because up to then he had understood it perfectly, at least he answered my questions exactly as if he did.
He and his wife, the old lady who had peed for me, looked at each other in a frightened sort of way. He mumbled out that the money had been sent in a letter and that was all he knew. When I asked him if he knew Countess Wetula and could tell me anything of her castle, both he and his wife crossed themselves and saying they knew nothing at all, simply refused to speak further. It was so near the time of starting that I had no time to ask anyone else so it was all very mysterious to me.
Just as I was about to leave I lay on my bed and decided the best way to relax for the journey was by masturbating. I found an unused candle upon the dresser and gripped it tightly as I stroked my clit until my pussy was wet and ready. I slid the candle slowly into myself, using it to bring me to the peak of pleasure I knew so well. At that moment the old lady burst into my room and said in a hysterical way, “Must you go? Oh young Frau must you go?” She was in such an excited state that she seemed to have lost her grip of what German she knew and mixed it up with some other language which I did not know at all.
I tried to tell her to leave but she refused to listen, seeming not to notice the candle buried inside me as she gripped my hands in hers and spoke in that strange language again.
“I will prevent you from leaving,” she said, glancing down between my legs. Before I could protest she took hold of the candle and began to fuck me with it, her mouth finding my clit which she took between her soft lips and sucked at gently. I lay back and let a sigh escape me, no longer wishing her to stop.
She teased me by speeding up and slowing down over and over until I was screaming to be allowed to orgasm. She smiled up at me as she rammed the candle home and licked frantically at my clit, finally taking me over the edge to the climax I had been desperate to achieve.
Once I was able to breathe normally again, I looked up to find her again admonishing me not to leave.
“I must go at once,” I said, telling her that I was engaged on important business.
“Do you know what day it is?” I answered that it was the fourth of May. She shook her head and spoke again. “Oh yes I know that. But do you know what day it is?”
On my saying I did not understand she went on.
“It is the eve of St George’s Day. Tonight when the clock strikes midnight all the evil things in the world will have full sway. Do you know where you are going and what you are going to?” She was in such evident distress that I tried to comfort her, finding my hand running over her breasts which fell easily from the top of her simple dress. I took her nipples in my mouth as she continued to mumble at me, her eyes wide.
I fell to my knees and lifted her skirts, pushing her back onto my bed before clambering up her body, kissing each part of her that came into my reach. When I reached her pussy I licked her in the way she had done to me. She raised her knees and spread her buttocks apart and thinking of the only way to distract her, I picked up the candle and pushed it towards the tiny hole that had become exposed.
As I licked at her pussy I plunged the candle deep into her bottom and she at last stopped talking, only letting out a sigh of approval at my movements. I fucked her anus with the candle as I licked the juices that dripped from her pussy. As I rammed the candle deep into her she began to pee, a surprisingly strong flow that hit the back of my throat before I knew what was happening. The hot urine dripped from my chin as she screamed her way to an orgasm.
I thought as she recovered that she would leave me be but she sank to her knees on the floor, the candle exiting her body and falling to the floor as she implored me not to go, at least to wait a day or two before starting.
It was all very ridiculous but there was business to be done and I could allow nothing to interfere with it. I tried to raise her up and said as gravely as I could whilst planting kisses on her lips that my duty was imperative and I must go.
She rose and dried her eyes and taking a phallic shaped length of glass from around her neck, offered it to me.
I did not know what to do for as a polite Englishwoman, such a sight seemed obscene and yet it seemed so ungracious to refuse an old lady meaning so well and in such a state of mind.
She saw the doubt in my face for she put the dildo in my pocket and said, “For the sake of your health,” and went out of the room.
I am writing up this part of the diary whilst I wait for the coach and I can feel the smoothness of the dildo in my pocket. Glancing around the waiting room I saw I was alone and I felt unable to resist testing out the device she had given me. I slid the length of smooth glass under my skirt and slipped it into me. It sank into my depths easily as if designed just right to fit my shape. I wondered about how she had enjoyed the touch of my candle in her bottom and I found myself moving the dildo under me until it slid just inside my anus, the hole stretching to accommodate the glass cock. As I pushed it as far as it could go the door to the waiting room opened and a group of people walked in. I was forced to leave the dildo in my bottom as I sat as upright as I could, every movement making it shift inside me, forming juices on my pussy as I fought to hide my arousal from those present.
Soon their coach came and they left and once alone again, I was able to retrieve the dildo and slide it back and forth into my bottom, finding the sensation more pleasurable than I had anticipated. I fucked my hole faster as I rubbed my clit, bringing myself to a moaning orgasm just as my coach pulled up.
Whether it was the old lady’s fear or the ghostly traditions of this place I did not know but I am not feeling nearly as easy in my mind as usual.
5 May - The Castle. The grey of the morning has passed and the sun is high over the distant horizon which seems jagged, whether with trees or hills I know not for it is so far off that big things and little are mixed.
I am not sleepy and as I not to be called until I awake, I naturally write until sleep comes. There are many odd things to put down and lest who reads them may fancy that I dined too well before I left Pissritz, let me put down my dinner exactly.
I dined on what they call robber steak, bits of bacon, onion and beef seasoned with red pepper and strung on sticks to be roasted over the fire. The wine was Golden Shower which produces a queer sting on the tongue which is however not disagreeable. I had only a couple of glasses of this and nothing else.
When I got on the coach the driver had not taken his seat and I saw him talking to the landlady. They were evidently talking of me for every now and then they looked at me and some of the people who were sitting on the bench outside the door came and listened and then looked at me, most of them pityingly. I could hear a lot of words often repeated, queer words for there were many nationalities in the crowd so I quietly got out my polyglot dictionary from my bag and looked them up.
I must say they were not cheering to me for among them were Piss, Toilet, Urine and Vampire.
When we started out, the crowd around the inn door all made the sign of the flush and pointed a finger at me. With some difficulty I got a fellow passenger to tell me what they meant. He explained it was a charm or guard against the wet vampire’s evil eye.
I shall never forget the last glimpse I had of the inn yard and its crowd of picturesque figures all wetting on the floor as they stood around the wide archway. Then our driver cracked his big whip over his four small horses and we set off on our journey.
I soon lost sight of ghostly fears in the beauty of the scene as we drove along. Before us lay a green sloping land full of forests and woods with here and there steep hills crowned with clumps of trees or with farmhouses. The road was rugged but still we seemed to fly over it with a feverish haste. The Golden Shower wine in me soon worked its way to my bladder so that each jolt of the coach made me wince as my need to pee began to grow.
I could not understand what the haste meant but the driver was evidently bent on losing no time in reaching Borgo Prund. The sun began to sink as we passed by a white gleam of falling water. One of my companions touched my arm as we swept past and I realised I was not alone in needing to pee.
We tried to call for the coach driver to stop momentarily so we could pee but he either ignored us or did not hear us over the noise of the horses.
It did not help that by the roadside were many peasant men and women who squatted as we approached and began to pee. There were many things new to me in this land such as this. Sometimes the hills were so steep that despite our driver’s haste the horses could only go slowly. The only stop he would make was a moment’s pause to light his lamps.
As he did so we all jumped down from the coach and to my surprise a peasant woman ran over and prostrated herself before us, making the flushing motion with her hand that I had last seen at the inn.
The others seemed to know what she intended for one after another they began to pee on her. She lay there in her dress which soon became soaked with urine as I squirmed on the spot, unsure what to do to relieve myself.
The others looked expectantly at me as they finished and not wishing to offend them I lifted my dress and squatted over the peasant who nodded up at me. My bladder was so overfilled that in an instant a waterfall of piss sprayed down onto her. I let out a gasp as she reached up and tickled my clit with her fingers whilst I could not yet stop urinating. The others stood watching in silence as she teased and tormented my pussy with her expert hands, all the while pee continuing to fall from me.
The last trickle was leaving my body when she plunged a finger into me and raised her mouth to my clit, licking it in such a way that brought an orgasm out of me in moments. I gasped with delight as my body spasmed whilst the coach driver called for us to return to our seats.
We rode on and finally arrived at our destination in the darkness of the deep night. The coach driver spoke up as he pulled up to stop. “There is no carriage awaiting you Frau. You should come on with us to Bukovina and return tomorrow.” Whilst he spoke the horses began to neigh and snort and amongst a chorus of screams from the peasants a caleche with four horses drove up and stopped beside us. I could see that the horses were coal black and splendid animals. They were driven by a tall man with a long brown beard and a great black hat which seemed to hide his face from us.
He said to the driver, “You are early tonight my friend.”
The man stammered in reply. “The English Frau was in a hurry.”
To which the stranger replied, “That is why, I suppose you wished him to go on to Bukovina. You cannot deceive me my friend. I know too much and my horses are swift.
As he spoke he smiled and the lamplight fell on a hard looking mouth with red lips and sharp looking teeth as white as ivory. “Give me the Frau’s luggage.” With exceeding alacrity my bags were handed out and put in the caleche. Then I descended and was caught in a grip of steel. Without a word the man shook his reins and we swept into the darkness of the pass. I felt a strange chill and a lonely feeling came over me. But a cloak was thrown over my shoulders and a rug across my knees and the driver said, “The night is chill and my master the Countess bade me take all care of you. There is a flask of plum brandy underneath the seat if you should require it.”
I sipped at the alcohol as we drove on. When I struck a match and by its flame looked at my watch, I was shocked to find we were within a few minutes of midnight. I felt a sick feeling of suspense as the alcohol within me ran down into my bladder. Then a dog began to howl somewhere down the road. The sound was taken up by another dog and then another as a wild howling began which seemed to come from all over whilst my body grew increasingly tense.
At the first howl the horses began to strain but the driver spoke to them soothingly and they quieted down but shivered as though after a runaway from sudden fright. Then far off began a louder and sharper howling of wolves which affected the horses once more as I was terrified by the noise, my need to pee becoming ever more urgent as fear took over my body.
The driver again petted and soothed the horses until they became manageable once more. Soon we were hemmed in with trees which arched right over the roadway as though we passed through a tunnel. The baying of wolves sounded nearer and nearer as though they were closing round on us from every side. I grew dreadfully afraid until my bladder lost control and I found myself wetting my underwear in my seat, the warm feeling of it making me feel nothing but shame as it ran down my legs, leaving my knickers soaking wet under my skirts.
We kept ascending and I was forced to sit in the pee underneath me until the driver finally pulled up the horses in the courtyard of a vast ruined castle from whose tall black windows came no ray of light and whose broken battlements showed a jagged line against the sky.
When the caleche stopped, the driver jumped down and held out his hand to assist me to alight. I could not but notice his prodigious strength, his hand like a steel vice that could have crushed mine if he had chosen. He sniffed at the air. “Did you piss on my seats?” he asked, gripping my hand tighter.
I was forced to nod in response and at that gesture, he whipped me round and lifted my skirts to my waist, bending me over and raining spanking blows upon my buttocks. The slapping sound of his hands on my cheeks filled the air of the courtyard as I gasped for breath.
Within a minute he seemed to tire of punishing me, his hand sliding between my legs, forcing my knees apart. I could do nothing but let him probe his way to my pussy, feeling the wetness of my panties around my ankles as he lowered his face to my bottom. His tongue plunged into my tight hole as his thick fingers entered my pussy, teasing me into a wetness the like of which I had never known. Just as I thought I would come from his ministrations, he stood up and I heard the rustling of his clothes. A moment later a rock hard shaft was pressed between the cheeks of my bottom, thrusting up and down before soaking up the wetness of my pussy. I waited for him to entire me but he moved back to my bottom and in a single motion, slammed himself into my anus.
I let out a deep groan of pleasure and pain as my nerve endings screamed at the shock intrusion. He thrust back and forth in my bottom as his hand again went to my pussy, probing in me with two fingers that seemed no smaller than his cock.
The feel of him grinding into me was exquisite even as I felt the shame of wetting myself still in my mind. He seemed to no longer care about punishing me, instead bringing me to sobbing orgasm that tore through my body and made him fuck me all the harder. I felt him bang his hips into my bottom as he held himself in me and then his cock pulsated deep in my bottom. I felt a gush of hot spunk spray out of him and fill my anus as he grunted in relief behind me. He fired another jet of cum into me and as he withdrew from me a final shot hit my buttocks and dripped to the floor under me.
The driver jumped back into his seat, leaving me to lower my dress back into place as he shook the reins and was gone in an instant.
I stood in silence for I did not know what to do. Of bell or knocker there was no sign. What sort of grim adventure was it on which I had embarked? My bottom was filled with cum that dribbled from me as I stood there, my panties were soaking wet and I had a long solid dildo in my pocket. Was this a customary incident in the life of a solicitor’s clerk sent out to explain the purchase of a London estate to a foreigner? Of course just before leaving London I got word that my examination was successful and I am now a full blown solicitor. I began to rub my eyes and pinch myself to see if I should awake. It all seemed like an erotic nightmare to me and I expected I might find myself at home with my thighs coated in wetness and dawn struggling in through the windows. But my flesh answered the pinching test and my eyes were not to be deceived. I was indeed awake. All I could do was be patient and wait for the coming of morning.
Just as I had come to this conclusion I heard a heavy step approaching behind the great door and saw through the chinks the gleam of a coming light. Then there was the sound of rattling chains and the clanking of massive bolts drawn back. A key was turned with the loud grating noise of long disuse and the great door swung back.
Chapter 2Within stood a tall old woman clad in black from head to foot without a single speck of colour about her anywhere. She held in her hand an antique silver lamp in which the flame burned without chimney or globe, throwing long quivering shadows as it flickered in the draught of the open door. The woman motioned me in with her right hand, saying in excellent English but with a strange intonation. “Welcome to my house. Enter freely and of your own free will!” She made no motion of stepping to meet me but stood like a statue as though her gesture of welcome had fixed her into stone. The instant I had stepped over the threshold, she moved forwards and held out her hand, grasping mine with a strength which made me wince, an effect not lessened by the fact that it seemed cold as ice, more like the hand of a dead and not living woman.
“Welcome to my house. Enter freely. Go safely and leave something of the happy piss you bring.”
“Countess Wetula?”
She bowed as she replied, “I am Wetula and I bid you welcome Mrs Harker to my house. Come in, the night air is chill and you must need to eat and rest.” As she was speaking she put the lamp on a bracket on the wall and took my luggage, carrying it in whilst I protested.
“Nay madam. You are my guest. It is late and my people are not available. Let me see to your comfort myself.” She insisted on carrying my luggage along the passage, up a great winding stair and along another passage. At the end of this she threw open a heavy door and I rejoiced to see within a well lit room in which a table was spread for supper and on whose mighty hearth a great fire of logs flamed and flared.
The Countess halted, putting down my bags, closed the door and crossing the room, opened another door which led into a small room with no windows, lit by a single lamp. She motioned me to enter and it was a welcome sight for here was a great bedroom well lighted and warmed with another log fire. The Countess withdrew, saying before she closed the door, “You will need after your journey to refresh yourself by making your toilet. I trust you will find all you wish. When you are ready, come into the other room where you will find your supper prepared.”
I looked around for a chamber pot to make use of but found none and was forced to leave the bedroom whilst again needing to pee. I found supper laid out and my host stood beside the fireplace, leaning against the stonework. “Pray be seated and sup how you please. Excuse me that I do not join you but I have dined already and I do not drink.”
I handed to her the sealed letter which Mr Hawkins had entrusted to me. She opened it and read it then handed it to me to read also.
“I must regret that my weak bladder forbids me to travel but I am happy to send a sufficient substitute in whom I have every confidence. She is young woman, full of energy and talent. She is discreet and silent and ready to attend on you and take any instructions you give in all matters.”
The Countess took the cover off a dish and I fell to on an excellent roast chicken. This came with cheese and salad, and despite my need to pee I enjoyed two glasses of fine old tokay. During the time I was eating the Countess asked many questions of my journey and I told her by degrees all I had experienced.
By the time I had finished the Countess had given me chance to observe her physiognomy. She had a strong face with high bridge of thin nose and ached nostrils. The mouth was fixed and cruel looking with peculiarly sharp white teeth that protruded somewhat over the lips. For the rest her ears were pale and extremely pointed at the tops. The general effect was one of extraordinary pallor. Her hands were white and fine but the nails were cut to a sharp point.
She looked out to the window as down in the valley I heard the howling of many wolves. “Listen to them the children of the night, what music they make. But you must be tired. Your bedroom is ready and tomorrow you shall sleep as late as you will. I will be away until the afternoon so sleep well and dream well.” With a courteous bow she opened the door and I entered my bedroom. I searched again for a chamber pot but finding none, was forced to retrieve my empty tokay goblet. I undressed, the heat of the fire making my body swelter, sweat forming on my skin as I pressed the goblet to my pussy and unleashed a torrent of piss. As it escaped me I couldn’t help but remember the dildo I had been given and I reached over to retrieve it from my pocket, sliding it up into me as I lowered the goblet, feeling a strange sensation within me as my pee ran over my fingers.
I fucked my pussy even once I had finished peeing, not stopping for an instant until I reached a shuddering climax, my legs almost giving way under me as I stood by the fire. Unsure what to do with the pee filled goblet I tossed the contents onto the fire before climbing naked into bed and pulling the covers over me, my pussy still contracting as my orgasm faded away. I lay down in a sea of wonders. I doubt, I fear, I think strange things as I question what else may occur during the rest of my stay at Countess Wetula’s castle.
7 May – It is again early morning and I have rested and enjoyed the last twenty four hours. I slept until late in the day and awoke with a bursting bladder. When I dressed myself I went into the room where we had supped and found a cold breakfast laid out with coffee kept hot by the pot being placed on the hearth. There was a card on the table, on which was written, “I have to be absent for a while. Do not wait for me. W.” I set to and enjoyed the meal, all the time wondering whether I must again make use of the tokay goblet but I could find it nowhere. I tried to lift the coffee pot but the handle scorched my hand. I waited for the fire to die down, hoping the pot would cool. I paced back and forth upon the floor once I had supped, feeling the need to pee building all the time. Glancing around I saw no option other than to find a corner of the room to soil. I shook my head, unwilling to debase my surroundings in such a way.
Finally I thought of a solution, wrapping my dress around my hand and pulling the pot from the hearth. I opened the lid and stood over it, unwilling to squat and risk burning my legs on the hot metal.
I aimed as best I could at the hole in the top and let my bladder relax. A trickle at first ran down my thigh but it soon strengthened into a flow that primarily ran into the pot even as stray droplets splashed the floor and my legs. As I peed, I sighed loudly, the sense of relief palpable as I was finally able to calm my bestirred spirits.
Once I had finished my toilet, I left the pot upon the floor and decided to explore the house. I found certain odd deficiencies considering the extraordinary display of wealth around me. The table service was of gold and of immense value. The curtains and upholstery are of the costliest and most beautiful fabrics and must have been of fabulous value when made for they are centuries old and worn and frayed. And yet in none of the rooms is there a mirror or a toilet. I had to use my mirror from my personal effects to adjust my makeup. I have not yet seen a servant anywhere or heard a sound except the howling of wolves.
Sometime after I had finished my meal I looked about for something to read for I did not like to wander around the castle too far without the Countess’s permission. There was nothing in my room, no book, newspaper or even writing materials. I opened another door and found a sort of library. The door opposite mine I tried but found locked.
In the library to my great delight I found a vast number of erotic books in English, whole shelves full of them and bound volumes of magazines filled with lithographs and woodcuts of the most obscene nature. A table in the centre was littered with English magazines and newspapers of a similar vein, containing etchings and inkings of scenes the like of which I could scarcely believe possible in reality.
Whilst I was looking at the books, the door opened and the Countess entered. She saluted me in a hearty way and hoped that I had had a good night’s rest.
“I am glad you found your way into my pornographic library for I am sure there is much that will interest you. These companions, “ and here she laid her hand on some of the books, “have been good friends to me and for some years past ever since I had the idea of going to London, have given me many hours of pleasure. Through them I have come to know the women of your great England and to know them is to love them. I long to go through the crowded streets of your mighty London to be in the midst of the whirl of whores and the push of prostitutes. But alas! As yet I only know so little of your language.”
“But Countess, you know and speak English thoroughly.”
Se bowed gravely. “I thank you my friend for your all too flattering estimate but yet I know the grammar and words and not how to speak them.”
“You speak excellently.”
“Not so. Here I am a noble. The common people know me and can indulge my predilections but a stranger in a strange land is no one. You come to me not alone as an agent to tell me of my new estate. You shall, I trust, rest here with me a while so that by our talking I may learn the English intonation. And I would that you tell me when I make even the smallest of errors.”
I said I was willing and asked if I could indulge in the library when I chose.
“Most certainly. You may go anywhere in the castle you wish except where the doors are locked where of course you will not wish to go. We are in Transylvania and not England. Our ways are not your ways and there shall be to you many strange things.”
This led to much conversation. I asked her of some of the strange things I had seen on my journey here and she talked for a long time before finally changing the subject. “Come tell me of London and the house you have procured for me.”
With an apology for my remissness I went into my room and retrieved my papers. Whilst placing them in order I heard a rattling and turned to find the table had been cleared and the lamp lit. The lamps were also lit in the library and the Countess was lying on the sofa reading a book about the art of anal sex with certain choice objects. I thought of the dildo in my pocket but decided not to mention it for fear of offending her.
When I came in she cleared the table and I set down the plans and deeds. He asked many questions and I answered as I could telling him about the house and its twenty acres surrounded by solid stone. There were many trees on the estate and a deep pond fed by springs. The Countess loved to hear of all.
Presently with an excuse he left me and I looked at the erotic book, finding inside a map of England folded into quarters. Upon examining the map I saw rings marking places. One was near London, another Exeter and a third was Whitby on the Yorkshire coast.
I refolded the map and began to examine the book closer. The images within brought out a manifest desire in me to attempt some of the suggested items and I found myself glancing around the room but could see nothing of which I could make use for such a purpose.
I picked up another book which seemed to contain only pictures of women copulating in a variety of poses with accompanying stories of the filthiest kind. As I read, my heart began to beat faster and hearing no sign of the Countess returning, I allowed my hand to move slowly down my body until my nipples were found. I tugged at them through my dress, stroking them softly until they were hard and tingling.
I read on, turning the page to see an image of one woman tied by her limbs to a table as another sat upon her face, her features clearly displaying her pleasure at the sensation.
I wondered what it would be like to be constrained in such a way, unable to breathe anything but the scent of the woman above me. My hand moved lower as my pussy began to drip with desire. I reached under my dress and slid my hand up my thigh, stroking the soft skin that puckered under my touch until I found my soaking wet labia. I rubbed at my waiting clit with the palm of my hand whilst sliding two fingers into my pussy. I slowly fucked my hole as I read further into the book, picturing myself the entire time as the woman tied to the table, being used for the pleasure of others in a way that I knew I would never gain the opportunity to try in reality.
My limbs soon began to tense up and my toes curled as my clit throbbed ever stronger until a sensation of pure joy burst from it and spread through my body. I allowed the waves of pleasure to wash over me as I panted quietly and at that moment I heard the sound of footsteps in the hall outside.
I quickly withdrew my fingers and pushed my dress down, licking the juices from them to prevent any suspicion being aroused. My cheeks were still flushed as the Countess entered, smiling at the sight of the erotic book at my side.
“There is no shame in enjoying my library in the way it was intended,” she said cryptically. “But supper is ready.”
She took my arm and we went into the next room where I found an excellent supper on the table. The Countess again excused herself as having dined when away from home. But she sat and chatted whilst I ate. Afterwards we spoke for hours until it became very late and I was increasingly desirous of the toilet. All at once I heard the crow of the cock coming up with shrillness through the clear morning air and realised we had conversed away the entire night.
Countess Wetula jumped to her feet. “Why there is morning again. How remiss I am to let you stay up so long.” With a courtly bow, she left me and I ran through to my room in urgent need of somewhere to urinate. I could see nowhere that was suitable, reminding myself that little had changed in a day to assist my needs. I looked along the dinner table but was surprised to find it had been emptied whilst I was at my bedchamber. I went over to the window and glanced out, seeing an empty courtyard beyond.
A chill wind hit me and I shuddered, a trickle or piss leaking from me and soaking into my knickers. I paced back and forth, my hand between my legs as I tried to decide what to do. There seemed little option but to make use of the window and thus I lifted my dress to expose my pussy to the cold air of the morning, hoping none might see me in such a position.
Thrusting my hips forwards I pressed myself to the sill and pushed with all my might, wanting to get this over with in all possible haste. Immediately a fountain of piss sprayed out of pee and went sinking down to the courtyard like a fall of rain. I almost found humour in the sight of my self created shower of yellow rain. My body felt instantly better as I pushed every last droplet from myself. Once finished I pulled the curtains closed, shame taking over my body at the thought of what I had just undertaken. With that I sat and wrote of this day.
8 May – I feared as I wrote here that I was too diffuse but now I am glad of the detail for there is something so strange here that I am becoming uneasy and wish I were safe out of it in a location which at least could provide me with toilets.
There is no one even to speak to except the Countess and I fear I may be the only living soul here. Let me say at once how I stand. I slept a few hours when I went to bed before I got up. I hung my mirror by the window to apply my makeup and a desire to masturbate overtook me. I leaned back on my seat and lifted my legs to the window ledge either side of the mirror, glancing at my own pussy in the glass. I was just sliding my fingers into my hole when I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard the Countess say, “Good morning.” I jumped backwards for it amazed me that I had not seen her in the mirror. In starting I wet myself a little but did not notice it. I turned back to the glass but there could be no error for the woman was close to me and I could see her over my shoulder but there was no reflection of her in the mirror. The whole room behind me was displayed but no sign of any woman except myself.
I blushed as I hid my body under my clothing but the Countess mentioned nothing of my indiscretion. At the instant I noticed my knickers were damp with urine, I looked around for a fresh pair to change into. When the Countess saw my panties, she lunged at my pussy with demonic fury, her eyes blazing. As she lunged for me, her hand hit the dildo sticking out of my pocket and in an instant the fury passed so quickly I could hardly believe it was ever there.
“Take care,” she said when you wet yourself. It is more dangerous than you think in this country.” Seizing the mirror she went on. “And this is the wretched thing that caused the mischief. Away with it!” And opening the window she flung out the glass which shattered in the courtyard below. Then she withdrew without a word. It is very annoying for I know not how to apply my makeup without the mirror.
When I went into the dining room breakfast was prepared but the Countess was nowhere to be seen. It is strange that I have never seen her eat or drink. After breakfast I explored the castle and found a room looking south. The view was magnificent. The castle is on the edge of a terrific precipice. A stone falling from the window would fall a thousand feet without touching anything. As far as the eye can reach is a sea of green tree tops.
But I cannot describe beauty as when I had seen the view I explored further, becoming needful of the toilet and hoping to find at least one but found only doors everywhere and all locked and bolted. In no places save from the windows is there an available exit. The castle is a prison and I am a desperate prisoner.
When I found that I was a prisoner a wild feeling came over me. I rushed up and down stairs, trying every door but after a while a feeling of helplessness overcame me. I sat down at last, rocking back and forth on a step as my bladder threatened to explode and thought what was to be done.
Of one thing I am certain. It is no use making my ideas known to the Countess. She knows I am imprisoned and doubtless has her own motives. My only plan will be to keep my knowledge and fears to myself and my eyes open.
I had hardly reached this conclusion when I heard the great door below shut and knew the Countess had returned. She did not come to the library so I went to my own room to again pee from the window but I found her making the bed. This was odd but only confirmed there were no servants in the house. Once she had left my chambers I went to the window and again raised my dress, having no choice but to pee into the open air once more, my body greatly relieved as piss gushed from me and sank to the courtyard, pooling on the stone below.
As I peed I became increasingly aroused, the feel of the wind on my clitoris joining the touch of my fingers until I had to come. Bless the woman who gave me the dildo. It gives me comfort and strength to touch it. I made use of it at the window, feeling a strange sense of exhilaration that someone may observe me in my enjoyment. I slid the dildo into my pussy and fucked myself as fast as I could, wanting only to achieve climax in as little time as could be managed. Within a minute I felt the familiar building sensation and then it burst from my pussy as the dildo squelched in and out. I finally let it slide out as my body recovered from the powerful orgasm I had just enjoyed. I turned and saw the Countess laying the table in the dining room, confirming there was no one here but her. I must find out all I can about Countess Wetula that I might find it useful to understand her better.
12 May – Let me begin with facts of which there can be no doubt. Last evening the Countess asked me questions on legal matters. She asked if a woman might have two or more solicitors. I told her she might have a dozen but it would be wise to have only one in each transaction as only one could act at a time. She seemed to understand, asking if one could attend banking and another shipping in case local help were needed far from the banking help. I asked her to explain.
“Let me say you are at Exeter which is far from London. Now suppose I was to ship goods to Newcastle or Durham might I not have a solicitor in each port? Could I be at liberty to direct myself?”
“Of course.”
“Good.” She went on to ask about how to make consignments before asking if I had written home yet. I replied that I had not as I had no way of sending letters.
“Then write to your friend and say you shall stay on with me another month.”
“Do you wish me to stay so long?”
“I desire it much and will take no refusal.”
What could I do but accept? She handed me three sheets of notepaper and three envelopes. When I had written my letters I sat and read whilst the Countess wrote several notes. Then she took up mine and placed them with her own on the table before leaving. As soon as she was gone I looked at her letters. One was addressed to Samuel Billington in Whitby, another to Herr Leutner, the third to Coutts and Co and the fourth to Herren Klopstock and Billreuth in Budapest. I was about to read the contents when I saw the door handle move. I was back in my seat when the Countess entered, taking up the letters and stamping them carefully.
“I trust you will forgive but I have much to do in private this evening. Let me advise you thought that you should not go to masturbate in any other part of the castle. It is old and causes bad experiences to those who wank unwisely. Be warned that if arousal should overcome you, you should hasten to your own chamber or to here for your climax to be safe.”
Later – I endorse the last words written but I have no fear of masturbating elsewhere in the castle. I have the dildo in my bed with me and there it shall remain.
When he left I went to my room and then out to the stair to look out to the south. As I glanced out of the window I caught sight of movement a storey below me. I imagined it was the Countess’s own room. As I looked I saw her head come from her window and then she climbed out and began to crawl down the castle wall with her cloak around her like great wings. At first I could not believe my eyes but there was no delusion. What manner of woman is this?
15 May – I have once again seen the Countess leave in her lizard fashion. She vanished into some hole lower down but I could not access any rooms in that area of the castle until a door older than any I had seen gave way and let me enter a chamber filled with ancient furniture. I sat here to write when I felt horny. The Countess’s warning came into my mind but I took pleasure in disobeying it. I drew out a great couch and lay upon it, uncaring for the dust under me as I composed myself for orgasm. I closed my eyes and lifted my dress, squeezing my thighs together as a need to pee grew within me. The desperation aroused me more than I thought possible and I fought not to wet myself as I grew closer to an orgasm without yet having touched myself.
I achieved a climax just from my urgent need to pee and the pleasure in my brain made me sleepy and I seemed to drift away, coming to and finding three young naked women opposite me. Two were dark and the other was fair. All three had brilliant white teeth. I felt in my heart a burning desire that they should kiss me with those red lips and let me urinate over them. They whispered and laughed together as the two dark haired girls urged on the fair haired one.
“Go on! You are first and we shall follow. Yours is the right to begin.”
“She is young and strong. There are wets for us all.”
I lay quiet as the fair girl advanced. She went on her knees and bent towards me, licking her lips like an animal. Her lips went to my pussy and seemed to fasten onto it. I heard the churning sound of her tongue as she licked her lips again, her hot breath on my clit. The skin of my pussy began to tingle and I felt the touch of her lips on the super sensitive skin of my clit. I closed my eyes in ecstasy and waited with beating heart, feeling a drop of piss escape me.
At that instant another sensation swept through me and I was conscious of the presence of the Countess. She was furious, grabbing the slender neck of the fair woman, her eyes blazing. “How dare you drink from her any of you when I had forbidden it? Back all of you! This woman belongs to me.”
The fair girl laughed. “You never loved.” The other women laughed also and it seemed as the mirthless pleasure of fiends. The Countess turned to me and said, “Yes I can love. I promise you that when I am done with her, you shall drink her piss at your will. Now go!”
“Are we to have nothing tonight,” said one of them.
For answer he threw a bag on the floor which moved as though there were some living thing in it. One of the women opened the bag and a naked woman emerged, squirming and wriggling and clearly in need of urinating. The three women opened their mouths as the woman as if in a daze pissed into one mouth after another. A dizziness overcame me and I sank into unconsciousness.
I awoke in my own bed. If I had not dreamed the Countess must have carried me here. My clothes were folded in a way which was not my habit. My watch was unwound. If the Countess carried me here and undressed me, she must have hurried for she did not find this diary or my dildo or I am sure she would have taken and destroyed both. As I look around this room it is a sanctuary now for out there are those awful women who are waiting to drink my pee.
18 May – I have been down to look at that room again but the doorway has been forced against the jamb and the door fastened from the inside. I fear it was no dream and I must act on this.
19 May – Last night the Countess asked me to write three letters. One saying that my work was nearly done and I should start home soon, another that I was starting that morning and the last that I had left the castle and arrived at Pissritz. I would fain have rebelled but knew it would be madness to quarrel openly with the Countess. I asked when I should date the letters.
“The first should be June 12, the second June 19 and the third June 29.”
I know now the span of my life.
28 May – There is a chance of escape or at least of being able to send word home. A band of gipsies are encamped in the courtyard. I shall write letters home and try to get them posted.
I have written the letters, Mina’s in shorthand and Mr Hawkins to ask him to speak to her. To her I have explained my situation. I have given the letters with a gold piece and the man pressed them to his heart and made gesture that it was not payment enough. Given his ability to mime I was able to ascertain that he was desirous of seeing me masturbate and piss for him.
Reluctantly I stood at the window with my clothes laid on the bed beside me. As they watched I ran my hands over my body, finding their stares turning me on far more than I had expected. My pussy became damp as my need to pee grew stronger. I thrust my body forwards and let fly the entirety of the urine in my body which hit the man below me square in the face. He lapped at the golden fluid as I ran my fingers through the flow, enjoying the heat upon my chill hand.
I took my dildo and thrust it into me whilst still peeing, turning away and pointing my bottom out of the window at the men below. I spread my cheeks apart and nudged the dildo into my hole, gasping at the stretching sensation whilst the last drops of pee ran down my legs. Moving my free hand to my clit, I rubbed frantically at it whilst fucking my arse as hard as I could manage, bringing myself to a screaming orgasm moments later.
When I turned round the men were gone. I could do no more so I stole back to the library to read. The Countess came in and held out two letters.
“The gipsies gave me these,” she said. “One is from you to Peter Hawkins but the other is a vile thing and is not signed so cannot matter.” He held the letter in shorthand to the flame of the lamp until it was consumed. “The letter to Hawkins I shall send as it is yours. Your pardon that I broke the seal. Will you cover it again?” With that he held out the letter with a clean envelope. I handed it back in silence and he left, locking the door behind him.
An hour or two passed and I began to need to pee once again. Looking at the erotic materials around me, I sought one that I might make use of with the dildo in my pocket. Finally I settled upon a work which described a woman used by a group of men in such a way that every entrance to her were filled by an appendage of theirs. I thought of the group of men outside the window and lay on the couch, thinking of them tearing my clothes from me whilst I slid the dildo into myself.
My need to pee made my arousal all the more intense and I found myself picturing each of the men fucking me in turn, their cocks sliding into every hole available one after another whilst I could only do my best to pleasure them in however they saw fit. I moved the dildo at lightning speed deep into my pussy, my bladder screaming for relief as I reached a shuddering climax. I saw an empty vase in the corner and ran to it, pulling the dildo from me as the first trickles of pee ran down my legs. I lowered myself over the vase as the floodgates opened and piss spurted out of me, filling the vase in seconds as I sighed happily, my pussy still throbbing with the remnants of my climax.
I had barely finished peeing when the Countess returned and sent me on to bed. I passed to my rooms and slept without dreaming.
31 May – This morning I went to fetch papers from my bag to write again but every scrap was gone. I saw and pondered before looking in my wardrobe. My suitcase was gone as was my overcoat and rug.
17 June – As I sat on my bed thinking hard I heard a cracking of whips and a great pair of wagons drove into the yard below. I cried out to the drivers and they looked up at me blankly. I attempted masturbating for them but the head of the gipsies appeared, pointed up at me and said something which made them laugh.
Henceforth no erotic effort of mine would make them even look at me. When their empty boxes were unloaded they were given money by the gipsy before riding away.
24 June – Last night the Countess left me early and locked herself in her room. Something is going on for I can hear the gipsies working nearby, hearing the sound of flushing toilets. I was at the window overlooking the Countess’s room when I saw her emerge in my travelling clothes with the bag I had seen given to the evil women. This was her scheme then, that others will see me so they think and she will leave evidence I have been seen in towns posting my own letters and wickedness achieved shall be attributed to me. It makes me rage to think this can go on and whilst I am shut up here.
I returned to my room when I heard in the courtyard the cry of a woman. I looked out of the window and saw her, a stranger distressed with running. When she saw my face she shouted up, “Monster give me my partner!”
She threw herself on her knees and tore at her hair before throwing herself against the door. Somewhere high above I heard the Countess call and her call was answered by the howling of wolves who poured in as a pack to the courtyard. There was no cry from the woman but I knew what had happened as the wolves slunk away licking their lips. What am I to do? How can I escape this place?
25 June – I must take action of some sort. Last night of my post dated letters went to post, the first of that fatal series that will blot out every trace of my existence. Action is needed. I have seen her crawl from her window. Why should I not go in by the same route?
Later – I have made the effort and come safely to this room. I must put down every detail in order. The room was empty, furnished with things which seemed to have never been used. I looked for the key but it was not in the lock. The only thing I found was a great heap of gold and money in one corner, none of it less than three hundred years old. At one corner of the room was a heavy door. It was open and led through a stone passage to a stairway which went steeply down.
I descended minding carefully until I came to a room which shocked me to my core. For here was the most elaborate of bathrooms, the like of which I had never before encounters. Porcelain toilet bowls were laid out in individual stalls, each pristine and spotless. The walls were covered with fine mosaics and the rolls of paper were of the softest kind.
There was nobody about and I went around the bathroom looking in every corner when I came to the final stall, the door closed. I pushed it open and there was the Countess. She was either dead or asleep but her eyes were open and stony, the cheeks having the warmth of life but there was no sign of pulse or breathing.
I bent over her and looked for signs of life but saw none. I turned to the toilet beside hers and sat upon it, lifting my dress and finally enjoying urinating in the correct manner for the first time since arriving at the castle. As I peed I could not help but become aroused and so I began to let my fingers play with the flow of pee, enjoying the hot wetness of it upon my hands as I stroked at my labia. But a fear overtook me from nowhere that the Countess may awaken and so I lowered my dress once more, returning to my room by the manner of again climbing the castle wall.
29 June – Today is the date of my last letter and the Countess has taken steps to prove it was genuine for I saw him leave in my clothes once again. I walked to the library and distracted my fears by reading of a threesome between woman and two men. I read the story with great concentration, picturing myself held between two men, one sliding into my bottom, the other into my pussy, being crushed between them as they both came inside me, me solely responsible for their pleasure.
I brought myself to a shuddering orgasm whilst thinking of their emissions spurting into my body and as my climax faded I drifted off to sleep. I was awakened by the Countess who looked at me and said, “Tomorrow we must part. You return to England, I to some work which may mean we never meet. Your letter has been despatched. All is ready for your journey. In the morning my carriage will come for you and bear you away but I hope I shall see more of you at Castle Wetula.”
When I was in my room and about to lie down I heard a whispering at my door. “Back to your place. Tonight is mine. Tomorrow night is yours.” There was a ripple of laughter and I opened the door to see the three women running away.
30 June – These may be the last words I write. I slept until before dawn, waking up and not needing a pee for the first time since arriving. I ran down the hall to the great door but it would not open. I scaled the walls to the Countess’s room and down to the bathroom below. There in one of the boxes brought to the castle was the Countess. She looked as if her youth had been half restored. Her white hair was dark grey, her cheeks fuller, her mouth redder than ever and on the lips were drops of urine which ran over her chin and neck. She looked as if she had simply gorged on piss.
This was the being I was helping to transfer to London who might for centuries to come satiate her desire for urine and create a circle of others to batten on the helpless. There came the sound of a gipsy song outside and I ran from the place, listening as the great door opened and closed again. When I reached it I found it locked and as I write I hear the sound of tramping feet below me, no doubt the boxes being set down heavily and lids hammered into place.
In the courtyard I can hear the crack of whips and I am left alone in the castle with those horrible women. I shall not remain alone here with them. I shall try to scale the castle wall further than ever. I shall take some of the gold with me lest I need it. I may yet find a way from this dreadful place. And then away for home to the quickest train. Goodbye all.
Chapter 3
Letter from Mina Murray to Lucy Wetenra
9 May
My dearest Lucy,
Forgive my delay in writing but I have been overwhelmed with work. The life of an assistant brothel keeper is sometimes trying. I long to be with you and by the sea where we can talk and piss together freely. I have been working very hard and practising shorthand. I have had a few lines from Jennifer in Transylvania. She is well and will return soon. I long to hear her news and taste her above my face once more. Goodbye.
Your loving Mina
Letter from Lucy to Mina
Wednesday
My dearest Mina,
I have nothing to interest you. Town is very pleasant I met some time ago a woman who would do for you if you were not engaged to Jennifer. She is well off and of good birth, a doctor with the most enormous breasts. She is only nine and twenty and yet has an immense lunatic asylum under her care. She has a curious habit of looking down my top at every opportunity. That is all Mina. We have told our secrets to each other since we were children. We have slept together and eaten together and laughed and cried and fucked. I am blushing as I write as my thoughts dwell upon the time we slept together before you met Jennifer.
Do you recall the night of Mamma’s birthday when we retired late to my room as that storm raged outside. I was all a shiver due to my fear of thunder and you held me in your arms until I was still again. But you did not let go did you? Instead you raised my nightgown until my body was exposed to your gaze and then you slid down me, kissing as you went until you finally reached your goal. You made me pee in your mouth, the first time I had ever undertaken such a thing and it aroused me beyond belief to see you indulge in my emissions as if you were dying of thirst.
When you kissed my pussy that night I almost melted away into thin air or floated off into the heavens. Your fingers inside me were the most exquisite of things and you brought me to an orgasm the like of which I have not experienced since. I kissed you and tasted my piss and my arousal in your mouth whilst you stared happily into my eyes.
Why do I repeat this here? Well I have fallen in love with a lady of whom I cannot stop imagining indulging in drinking her pee in the way you did mine. I think she may love me though she had not told me so. But oh I do love her Mina! I love her. There, that does me good.
I wish I were with you, sitting by the fire and undressing so I could tell you how I feel and demonstrate what I wish she would do to me. Let me hear from you at once and tell me all that you think about it.
Lucy
Letter from Lucy to Mina
24 May
My dearest Mina
Thanks and thanks again for your sweet letter. It is lovely to have your sympathy. It never rains pee but it pours piss. Here I am about to be twenty and never had a proposal and yet today I had three. One came before lunch. Dr June Seward, the lunatic asylum woman with enormous breasts and good skin. She was cool but nervous and told me how dear I was to her and how she wished I cared for her. When she saw me cry I told her there was already someone and she wished me well before planting a kiss on my lips.
I knew not what to do nor how to react as she took me in her arms and escorted me into the garden. Once there she stripped me of every stitch of clothing upon my body before laying me down on the damp grass. She embraced every last inch of me including delving deeply between my buttocks in a way that I never realised could be so enjoyable. Her tongue dipped inside my bottom and her fingers into my pussy as she draped my legs over her shoulders.
As she fucked me with her hand, I felt the need to pee and began to wriggle with desperation. She would not let me rise though, instead insisting that I produce upon her. I did as she wished, my heart racing as my pee dribbled down her chin and onto her waiting bosom. She revelled in my piss dear Mina, bringing me to an orgasm with her hand before I even had chance to finish urinating. My whole body shook when I came and as I lay panting for breath she moved up me, lifting her dress whilst I moved my hands to her breasts which had spilled over her top. I toyed with her nipples as she sat upon my face and returned the piss I had given her with that of her own. She peed directly into my mouth Mina and the taste was such that I thought I was dreaming, it was too pleasant to be real. As she peed, I let my tongue slide into the wet folds of her cunt and she gasped and moaned and writhed as if she wanted me to move ever deeper into her.
She rubbed her clit as she finished peeing and soon after I brought her to a trembling climax that made her scream so loudly I could hear the neighbours call out, asking if there was an issue at hand.
I shouted that we were fine as best I could from under her pussy and she giggled above me before helping me to my feet and bidding me farewell, hoping I would be happy.
Number two came after lunch. This was a nice fellow from Texas in America. He looked young and fresh and yet was older than me. Mr Quincy Morris sat beside me and looked happy and jolly but nervous all the same. He took my hand in his and said, “Miss Lucy, I know I ain’t good enough to lace your boots but will you hitch up alongside me and let us go down the long road together?”
He looked so serious that I found it hard to deny him his wish as he poured out a torrent of love making. He ripped my clothes from me in an instant and removed his own in the same moment such that we were both naked within my parlour. His appendage was so large and standing proudly that I could not help but lower myself to my knees and take him into my mouth, being desirous of the taste of his hot hardness. He filled my mouth to the back of my throat as he gripped my hair and made me fuck him with my lips, my tongue running over the length of his shaft as he stared down at me.
Soon he felt teased enough and spun me round and bent me over the couch. He groped at my buttocks as he slid his cock between them, making my pussy damp with desire.
“Piss on me,” he said, holding his cock directly against my labia. I let my bladder relax and hot urine did flow over his cock which seemed to become harder than ever. Whilst I continued to pee he used the juices of my arousal to lubricate himself in such a way that he could enter my bottom, making me gasp out loud at the way I stretched wide apart to allow him entry.
He slid all the way into my anus whilst his hand moved to my clit and began toying with it. I rocked back and forth upon him until I reached an orgasm so powerful I almost fell to the ground, only his tool within me keeping me upright. After I had climaxed he moved faster and began slamming into me until I heard him grunt and felt his cock spasming deep within me. A moment later hot spunk filled my bottom and the sensation of it within me sent another orgasm through my body. He spurted more cum into me before slowly withdrawing, kissing his way up my back before collapsing beside me on the couch.
“I cannot marry you,” I said when my breathing had returned to normal. He asked if there was another and I told him straight. “There is one I love though he had not yet told me he loves me.”
He wished me luck and gave me a final kiss before gathering up his clothes and withdrawing, leaving me to feel his emissions seep back out of me as my little clit throbbed with desire for more.
This quite upset me and I don’t wish to tell you of number three until it can all be happy. Ever your loving
Lucy
PS Of number three I must speak. She came into my room and kissed me before I even had a chance to speak. In less than a minute I was naked for the third time this day. I don’t know what I did to deserve such pleasure but she tied me to my bed with my own stockings and made use of a beautiful smooth glass cock attached to her hips with fabric straps to fuck me whilst all the time staring into my eyes.
She fucked me slowly until I burst with joy, my body writhing to free myself from the bonds that held me in place. I enjoyed one climax after another until she withdrew, leaving me exhausted as she leaned back and let a gushing torrent of piss escape her, spraying all over my captive body, sending me into further paroxysms of ecstasy. She then forced me to watch her fuck herself with the dildo until she came not once but thrice in quick succession, never taking her eyes from me for an instant. I must show her that I am grateful to her for being such a lover and a friend. Goodbye.
Dr Seward’s Diary
25 May – Cannot eat, cannot rest. Since my rebuff after such a sexual encounter I have an empty feeling. As I knew the only cure would be to tease my patients I picked out once who afforded me a study of much interest. He is so quaint I am determined to understand him. He refuses to ever reach an orgasm, believing such enjoyment to be the work of the devil.
And yet when I stood in his cell and began a striptease, his cock stiffened under his nightdress until I could resist no longer. I took hold of it with my cool hands and stroked the length of it whilst lowering my mouth to the head, licking the fluid which appeared there. He shook his head as if wishing me to stop but then took hold of my hair and drove himself into my mouth. He fucked me until I could no longer breathe, my eyes wild as he grunted deeply and spurted cum into the back of my throat. He finally let me go and I gasped for breath, wiping spunk from my chin as I stood up and withdrew to the ward.
Letter from Quincy Morris to Anthea Holmwood
25 May
My dear Ant
We’ve told yarns before and I have such a one for you about my latest conquest despite the rejection I was forced to endure afterwards. I ask you to come to my campfire tomorrow night as our friend June Seward will be there and we can mingle our sorrow to drink to the health of whomever has won the heart of our fondest friend Lucy. We promise you a hearty welcome.
Yours as ever
Quincy
Telegram from Arthur to Quincy
26 May
Count me in. I bear messages to make your cunt tingle.
Ant
Mina Murray’s Journal
24 July – Whitby – Lucy met me at the station and drove me up to the house. This is a lovely place. Right over the town is the ruin of the abbey which was sacked by the Danes. It is a noble ruin of immense size and I walked around it for so long I was bursting to pee by the end. There were no toilets to be found and people everywhere such that I felt I might explode at any moment if I could not find a secluded spot. I walked out beside Mina as she held my hand and tried to calm me although I knew she was also aroused by the sight of my desperation. Behind the churchyard there was a hummock of grass and if kneeling we would still be visible so we both lay on the grass behind it out of sight of the populace. It is not easy to pee whilst laid down I must confess. I lifted my dress to my waist and shuffled down my knickers whilst Mina did the same and at the sight of her pussy I was reminded of those times we had copulated together in the past before her engagement to Jennifer.
I could not resist tasting her one final time, rolling towards her even as my bladder threatened to release the waterfall at any moment. She rolled in my direction at the same moment and I ended up on top of her with my face by her pussy and her face by my own.
We began to urinate at the exact same instant, her piss flowing into my open mouth as mine did the same to her. I heard a noise above the hissing sound and looked up to see a group of people had found our hiding place and were staring at us in silence. I could not stop peeing even if I wished to and the sight of their eyes upon us drove my arousal upwards to new peaks that could not be contained. I began to finger her as she slid her thumb directly into my bottom, lapping at my clit as I moaned above her.
We ended peeing at last but neither of us moved, knowing the audience expected a show. I writhed upon her as she brought me to an orgasm with her expert fingers and wilful tongue. I gasped into her pussy as I fucked her with as much of my hand as I could manage, all the time sucking her little clit into my mouth until she reached one and then a second climax in quick succession, each tearing through her body and making her sob with pleasure.
When we had recovered we received a round of applause and then the people melted away, leaving us alone to adjust our dresses and stand once more, acting for all the world as if nothing untoward had just occurred.
We walked around the graves of the churchyard and I found myself thinking I should often come here to write as I do now, listening to the waves below me beside the harbour. I heard a legend that when a ship is lost bells are heard at sea. I must ask about this and an old man is passing, I shall inquire of him.
He was a funny old man. He told me the legend of the bells was nonsense but he heard tell of a shipwreck which caused every woman and man in the town to wet themselves at the same instant. At the thought of such an occurrence I felt my pussy dampen and the man seemed to sense my arousal as he went into great detail of the humiliation endured by countless people wetting their trousers and skirts.
As he spoke I began to squirm in my seat, rubbing my thighs together to ease the itch within my clit. The man sat on the bench beside me and placed my blanket over both of our laps. Whilst looking out to sea his hand slid to my dress, finding its way up inside whilst I fumbled at the buttons of his trousers.
He plunged his fingers into me as I took hold of his hard cock and whilst we both maintained innocent faces to any passing, he fucked me slowly and deeply as I jerked my hand along the shaft of his cock, all the time him telling me more tales of folk wetting themselves within the town.
His thumb brushed over my clit and I had to let out a gasp, biting my lip to keep from crying out with joy. I heard his breathing deepen and then his cock twitched in my hand. I dived under the blanket and caught the spunk that jetted from him in my mouth, swallowing quickly before squeezing the remaining droplets from him, savouring the salty taste of the old seadog. He maintained his movement within me as I brought my head out once more, licking my lips whilst he teased me to a powerful climax that I had to fight to resist revealing to the world, my limbs shaking and my cheeks flushing red.
“I must away home for my tea,” he said as he rose to his feet a moment later. He walked away and down the steps into the town. I shall go home too now once I finish writing.
1 August - I came up here an hour ago with Lucy and together we met the old man and two companions even older than he. Lucy looked sweet in her white frock and the old men wasted no time is sitting with us. I think they fell in love with her on the spot.
They spoke long of their desire to be with two women at once until we felt obliged to indulge their fancy. Accordingly they took us behind the churchyard to an empty barn and we walked into the deep straw held within. There we were told to strip and so we undressed each other slowly whilst the three men did nought but watch. Once we were naked we turned to face them and they whipped off their own clothes with indecent haste. Each of them was erect already and they approached us with animal hunger in their eyes.
I was forced to my knees and in a moment I had a cock in my mouth and one in each hand. I worked them as best I could but I was distracted by Lucy laid between my legs, licking hungrily at my pussy, her hands easing their way between my buttocks. The cock in my mouth was already starting to twitch as the men realised they must pace themselves yet.
I was lifted to my feet and one of the men held me in his arms, standing behind me with his shaft nudging between my buttocks. Lucy was bent on all fours and a cock slid into her pussy whilst another entered her mouth. Whilst she rocked back and forth between the two men, the cock behind me found my hole and entered my bottom momentarily before withdrawing, leaving me aching for its return.
I was made to straddle poor Lucy’s back whilst she rocked from one cock to another and then they indicated I was to pee on her. This I did in a second, watching their lust intensify at the sight of me wetting on my best friend. It dripped from her back as she moaned her way to her first orgasm.
As she came the men withdrew from her and turned their attention to me. One laid on his back and I was lowered onto him, his cock easily sliding into my wet pussy. The next man lay atop me and I was trapped between them as he slid into my bottom, both holes feeling painfully filled at this point. As I opened my mouth to moan the final cock slid into my mouth and I was totally at their mercy. They fucked me relentlessly whilst Lucy did her best to find my clit with her hands, kissing each of us in turn shortly afterwards as I closed my eyes and gave in to the sensations tearing through me.
I came within a minute but they did not stop to let me rest, bringing me to so many orgasms I lost count, my body exhausted and dripping with sweat. Finally the cock in my mouth spurted cum deep into my throat and then withdrew, leaving me to swallow the spunk or risk choking on it.
The two cocks in my body came within moments of each other. I felt hot cum fill my pussy and my bottom at the same moment and as they began to withdraw Lucy added to my turmoil by wetting directly upon my face, telling me it was revenge for doing the same to her.
She moved her pussy to my mouth and as I lapped at her pee, I also licked her clit as the men stood and watched, one of them stroking my pussy until I came again. Lucy ground onto my face with her cunt until she reached her own climax and as it faded away, the men made their excuses and left us alone.
The two of us sat awhile in the churchyard after that encounter and held hands whilst she told me about her upcoming marriage. That made me feel heartsick for I had not heard from Jennifer for a whole month.
Later I came up here alone and sad for there was no letter for me. I wonder where Jennifer is and if she is thinking of me. I so wish she were here.
Dr Seward’s Diary
5 June - The case of Renfield grows ever more interesting. He has certain erotic qualities which I cannot ignore but there is some scheme about him I do not understand. He has gathered a bowl of his own which he has insisted I piss into. I finally gave in today and did as he asked but the piss has remained in there ever since.
18 June – I have urinated multiple times for Renfield now and each time his cock hardens but he again refuses to orgasm.
1 July – The bowls of pee are becoming a nuisance and I insisted he get rid of them. To my surprise he picked them up one after another and drank the contents whilst I watched. I scolded him for it but he did let me touch him once more and use my mouth to bring him to a hardness which made my pussy widen in anticipation.
I turned away from him and bent over, lifting my skirt to expose my pussy which he could not resist entering. He held my hips as he fucked me with his huge shaft, bringing me to orgasm twice before he did the same, spurting a molten load of cum deep inside me which dripped from me as I stepped away and pulled my skirt back into place.
8 July – He keeps a notebook filled with masses of figures. He asked if I would bring him the pee of other staff members and there seem to be no limits to his desire for more urine within his cell.
20 July – Renfield is asleep with urine upon his chin. I believe he has drunk his fill of the pee I provide once more. I gave him an opiate and whilst he was asleep I took away his pocketbook to look at. Oh Lucy how I miss you and wish your happiness was also mine.
Mina Murray’s Journal
26 July – I am anxious and unhappy about Lucy and Jennifer. I have had a letter but it is only one line saying she is starting for home. Lucy has taken to walking and wanking in her sleep. We have decided to lock the door of our room every night as she has twice been found in the street by passersby with her hand within her pussy without being aware she is doing it. She is to be married in the autumn and this will not do.
Miss Anthea Holmwood is coming to see Lucy before the marriage and she wants to take him up to the clifftop to show him the beauty of the town.
27 July – No news from Jennifer. Lucy walks and wanks more than ever and I am often awakened by her moving around the room, her nightdress tossed aside, her hand within her pussy or her bottom, wetting as she walks. The sight of it is intensely arousing but I am of strong enough moral fibre not to take advantage of my friend whilst she sleeps.
3 August – Still no news from Jennifer. I hope she is not ill. Lucy has not walked much in her sleep this week and it seems as if she is watching me, trying the door and searching for the key. I tried tonight to fuck her hard enough that she would sleep more soundly. Accordingly as she lay in bed I lay beside her and forced her onto her back, tying her down and raising my naked pussy above her face. I pissed into her mouth as she gasped with pleasure but I stayed not there, moving my hips so I ended my urination upon her clitoris. She screamed with frustration until I ended peeing and dived onto her pussy with my mouth, spending an hour bringing her to one climax after another. Afterwards she slept well.
6 August – No news. The suspense is dreadful. Last night the weather darkened and the fishermen say we are in for a storm. Everything is grey except the grass. The fishing boats race for home. I sat in the churchyard a little while and coastguard came along with his spyglass. He stopped to talk to me as he often does but he kept looking out at a strange ship. “She’s a Russian by the look of her but she’s knocking about in the queerest way. Look there, she is steered mighty strangely. We’ll hear more of her by tomorrow.”
He went to leave when I blurted out my worries and he took my hand and offered a way we could distract each other from our cares for a little while. The gloom of the weather had emptied the land around us and we were alone so when he raised my dress I worried not about being seen. He took the thick handle of the spyglass and bade me to suck it. Once my saliva was upon it, he slid the first ridge into my pussy, surprising me with his urgency. The next ridge slid also into me and then the handle was as far into me as it could go.
He bade me to fuck myself with it whilst he stood and exposed his stiffening cock. I took it into my mouth and tasted his hard heat as I used the spyglass to pleasure myself as best I could. It was not as good as a real flesh cock and I said as much to him to which he nodded and pushed me onto my back on the bench, clambering onto me and entering me an instant later. He took hold of the spyglass and moved it to between my buttocks, pushing the handle into my bottom and leaving it embedded within me.
I moaned at the feel of his hard fleshy shaft plunging into me and I muttered many words of encouragement to him as he picked up speed within me, his clothes rubbing at my clit as he pressed his body against mine, the spyglass rubbing the inside of my bottom in an exquisite fashion.
I reached an orgasm just as the rains began to fall. My pussy contracted around his cock which tipped him over the edge and he came deep within me whilst sighing gently, his cock twitching as one shot of cum after another poured into my cunt. Finally he withdrew and kissed me softly on the lips before retrieving the spyglass and nodding a goodbye to me, leaving me to run for home to avoid the building storm soaking me to the skin.
Cutting from The Dailygraph 8 August
Whitby – One of the greatest storms on record has just been experienced here. Whilst it grew ever stronger a foreign schooner with sails set was seen going westwards against the wind. The tempest broke shortly afterwards and huge waves began to break against the harbour and lighthouse. The wind roared and sea fog rolled into the land. At high tide the seafog melted away long enough to see the schooner enter the safety of the harbour. All ran to her but they found only a corpse lashed to the helm, the ship having found harbour at the hand of a dead man. The schooner drove on and pitched up on the sand and gravel at the southeast corner of the pier. The instant it touched shore an immense dog sprang from the deck and ran for the sand. Making for the steep cliff it vanished into the darkness.
The next morning the doctor examined the body at the helm and declared the man had been dead for two days. Already the storm was passing and the sky beginning to redden. I shall send for the next issue details of the derelict ship.
9 August – The ship was the Depeeter and she had only a number of great boxes filled with toilet roll in her cargo. She was consigned to a Mr Billington who this morning went aboard and took possession of the toilet rolls. The dog was not to be found.
The log of the ship included the following intriguing details.
“17 July – The men tell me a stranger is on board, a tall thin woman unlike the crew. I shall search the ship for her.
18 July – We left no corner unturned but found nothing.
30 July – We near England amidst a storm. Men all worn out. The mate came to me telling me he had seen the woman again and attempted to stab her with his cock but the prick went through thin air. He has gone mad, telling me she resides in one of the boxes which contain only toilet paper.
4 August – Still fog. The mate was right to jump overboard. Now I am alone, the crew gone but I shall tie my hands to the wheel so that I can remain secure within the ship.
Later – Whilst tied to the wheel, she came to me, lowering my trousers and taking my cock in her mouth, bringing me to stiffness with the coldest lips I have ever known. I was hypnotised by her beauty, unable to question from where she came. She made me pee on her face and I had no choice but to obey, urinating directly upon her hair as she jerked her hand along my shaft, making me harder than ever before again taking me in her mouth until I groaned with desire. She brought me to an orgasm almost as a farewell gift, licking my cum from her lips before vanishing, leaving me alone here to write these words.
Mina Murray’s Journal
8 August – Lucy was restless last night and the storm fearful. Lucy did not wake but got up twice and pissed into a corner. Fortunately I awoke each time and was able to capture her pee in my mouth so it did not ruin the rug underneath her. It tasted wonderful and lingered in my mind long after she was asleep once more.
10 August – The funeral of the poor sea captain was today. Poor Lucy seemed much upset but would not say why. Perhaps it was that Swales was found dead on our bench with neck broken. There was a look of fear and horror upon Swale’s face that the men said made them shudder.
I think it will be best for her to go to bed tired out so I took her for a long walk by the cliffs and stopped in a sheltered spot to order her to strip. I enjoyed taking charge in such a way and my commanding voice seemed to entice her to obey. She removed her clothes and I told her to bend over and not move, her cheeks to be held apart.
I stared for some time at her bottom exposed to the light of the sun, teasing her by not touching her yet. Eventually she began to beg for contact and I gave in at last, bringing my tongue to her anus and licking as deeply inside her as I could manage. I brought her to the first of her many orgasms just by licking her bottom and as time passed I continued until my tongue did ache. When she became desirous of urinating I told her to hold it for as long as she could possibly manage and I would reward her for her diligence.
She was soon wriggling and squirming and begging for relief whilst I moved her into all manner of positions, making her jog on the spot, touch her toes, indulge in sit ups and drink from a flask I had brought with me. I saw stray drops leak from her from time to time but I lapped each one away, all the time my own pussy growing wetter at the control I had over my friend.
Finally I brought her pussy to my mouth and told her she could pee. In a second a torrent of piss entered my throat, the heat of it making me blink as I swallowed as quickly as I could manage before commanding her to stop.
She did so with some reluctance, her hands crammed between her legs to prevent the rest escaping. I moved her onto her back, leaning her legs upwards so that her pussy was above her own face. In this partial handstand I held her knees apart and told her to pee.
“But it will go on my own face,” she said, looking up at me.
“I am well aware of that,” I replied.
She sighed and then a fountain of pee erupted from her, running back down her chest to splash onto her face. I bade her to swallow it as I began to fuck her pussy with two of my fingers. She gasped and rocked against my body as I watched her cunt contract, an orgasm tearing through her.
After her climax faded I lowered her to the ground and licked the pee from her face, loving the taste of it whilst her fingers went to my clit. We fucked like that, hands on each other, for some time before I set her on all fours and put my head under her, fucking her bottom with a finger whilst licking at her clit to bring her to yet another orgasm.
By the time we went home we were both exhausted and I smiled as she climbed into bed, thinking she should have no inclination for sleepwalking now.
11 August – No sleep now, I am too agitated. I woke up in the night to find Lucy not in bed. The door was shut but not locked. She was not in the sitting room or anywhere in the house. I ran outside and searched the town, finally arriving at the cliff opposite the churchyard. I saw her in the distance reclining on the bench with someone else in the darkness between her legs.
I flew down the steps and up to the churchyard and when I got to the top I saw it was Lucy on the bench. I called her name and someone raised their head from between her legs, a white face with red gleaming eyes. When I reached her the figure had gone and Lucy was quite alone even though her nightdress was around her waist exposing her pussy.
I bent over her and her pussy lips were parted as if she had just been licked there. I flung my shawl over her as she put her hand to her clit and moaned, a dribble of pee leaking from her. I shook her to wake her and she did not seem surprised to see me. She followed me home with the obedience of a child where I tucked her into bed and she implored me to say nothing of what had occurred that night.
Noon – Lucy slept until I woke her but I noticed when her legs were spread in her sleep that pee was dried upon her thighs and noted it was a hint of red lipstick the like of which I knew not.
12 August – Twice in the night Lucy tried to get out. In the morning she seemed as gay as of old and she snuggled in beside me and told me she wanted me inside her. My fingers entered her pussy as she kissed my neck, her body grinding against mine as she found my clit with her hand and together we lay in mutual pleasure until we reached our orgasms at virtually the same moment.
13 August – To bed with the key on my wrist. I awoke in the night to find Lucy pointing at the window, a great bat flapping outside in whirling circles.
14 August – Lucy looked out at the sunset this evening and murmured, “Her red lipstick again. Just the same.” I followed her eyes to see a dark figure seated alone on a bench. That night I walked and thought of Jennifer and as I returned home I saw Lucy with her pussy sticking out of our bedroom window. I ran inside and found her asleep up there and breathing heavily, her hand holding her pussy lips apart as if she were about to pee.
I did not wake her but tucked her up and she looks so sweet as she sleeps.
15 August – Rose later than usual. Lucy was tired. We received a letter that Anthea wishes the marriage to commence soon. Lucy is full of joy.
17 August – No news from Jennifer and Lucy seems to weaken. She eats well and sleeps well but all the time the colour in her cheeks are fading. At night I hear her gasping as if for air. Last night I found her awake in the night leaning out of the window, her pussy thrust forwards again. The red lipstick marks were on her thighs once more.
Letter from Billington and Son to Messrs Carter and Paterson
17 August
Dear Sirs, Please receive these boxes in the ancient bathroom at the mansion. Find enclosed all keys which are labelled. Leave the keys in the main hall when you are done.
Yours,
S F Billington and Son
Mina’s Journal
18 August – I am happy as Lucy seems so much better. Last night she slept well. The colour comes back to her cheeks.
19 August – Joy joy joy. At last news of Jennifer. She has been ill and that is why she did not write. I must travel out to her and bring her home. I take only one change of dress. I must write no more. I must get to her.
Letter from Sister Agatha of Budapest Hospital to Miss Mina Murray
12 August
Dear Madam,
I write by desire of Jennifer Harker who is not strong enough to write. She has been under our care for six weeks suffering from brain fever. She wishes me to convey her love and say that she is sorry for her delay but she will return soon.
Yours with sympathy
PS She has told me ravings of wolves and piss and toilets and I fear to say of what. Be careful that nothing excites her. She reached the train station nearest Castle Wetula and demanded a ticket for home. Be assured she is well cared for.
Dr Seward’s Diary
19 August – Strange change in Renfield. At eight he became excited and sniffed about like a dog. All he would say was, “The mistress is near.” He became more and more excited and then a shifty look came into his eyes. I am weary and can think only of Lucy.
Later – Renfield has escaped. I searched for him with others and saw him scaling the wall out of the asylum to the grounds of the nearby deserted house. I found him on the other side pressing against the door of the old public bathroom. He was talking to someone inside. I heard him say, “I am here to do your wetting Mistress. I am your slave and I will be faithful. I await your commands.”
We closed in on him and he fought like a tiger. He is safe now in the straitjacket and chained to the wall in the padded cell. I sought to soothe him by lowering his trousers as he leaned back against the padding. I took his cock in my hand and felt it harden under my touch. Once it was as firm as could be, I lifted my dress and turned around, backing onto it until it slid into my pussy. I fucked him with my body, grinding back on him as he remained silent. I moved faster and faster until I felt him jerk in me before asking if he felt better. “I shall be patient, mistress. I am coming, coming, coming.” Hot spunk filled my pussy as I took the hint and came too, my clit throbbing almost painfully as my climax washed over me.
As I slid off him I turned and licked the last of his cum from the tip. I was too excited to sleep but writing in this diary has quieted me and I feel I shall now be able to rest.
Letter from Mina to Lucy
Budapest 24 August
“My dearest Lucy,
I know you will be anxious to hear all that happened since I left you in Whitby. I got to Hull and then onto the boat to Hamburg and the train on to here. I found Jennifer looking pale and thin. She is a wreck of herself and remembers nothing. She has had a terrible shock. Sister Agatha has been attempting the Eastern medicine of urine therapy, stripping her and peeing on her three times a day without fail.
Jennifer has enjoyed being peed upon to the extent that she has reached orgasm on every occasion without being touched anywhere by the hand of the nurses. I have expressed my gratitude to Agatha by taking her into a storage room and planting numerous kisses upon her lips. The sight of her nurse’s uniform aroused me so much as I kissed her that I found my hands sliding up it to cup her bottom which was unencumbered by any form of knickers above her stockings. As I caressed her skin she spoke to me of her pee therapy and her work in holding in her desire for the toilet, seeing it as part of her Hippocratic oath to do best for her patients. As she spoke I became increasingly desirous to try it out for myself but she insisted her pee could not be wasted.
As such I joined Jennifer in the treatment room, laying together naked in a light blue porcelain bath as Agatha stood over us and spread her legs to give us both a view of her pussy that was so delightful I had to kiss it. As I did so, Jennifer began to touch me in a way that suggested her mind was commencing to return to her.
Agatha began to pee on the two of us. It soaked my hair with its warmth, running down my face and my body and inflaming my ardour beyond belief. I lapped at her pussy as Jennifer did the same to mine, touching herself with her hand as we happy three began to enjoy the sensations of pee spreading across our bodies. I would not let Agatha step away until I had brought her to climax and I was able to see the contractions of her pussy around my tongue when she reached the peak of her pleasure. Beneath me Jennifer brought me to my own orgasm as she teased and caressed the most sensitive part of me. I found pee escaping me without any effort on my part and Jennifer rubbed it into her chest as she moved to lie above me, running her fingers through the flow of urine before smearing it onto her pussy, gasping out loud as she came at last.
The next day Jennifer told me more details of her journey and you have no cause to be concerned. I sit by her bedside now as she wakes.
She asked for her coat and I found her notebook but she asked me to leave her alone for a moment and I walked over to the window. She called me back and told me to read the book but not to tell her what was written within for fear of enflaming again her brain fever.
We are now married. I sealed her notebook with wax and told her it would remain unopened unless our lives were in danger. I am the happiest woman in the world since marrying and why do I tell you this? You are very dear to me and I wish to share my joy. I must stop for Jennifer is waking.
Your ever loving
Mina
Letter from Lucy to Mina
Whitby 30 August
My dearest Mina,
Oceans of piss and millions of kisses to you. The strong air here would soon restore Jennifer as it has restored me. Anthea is here and we have walks and drives and she fucks me so hard I can hardly move at times. She tells me she loves me. There she is calling to me to join her in bed again.
Your loving
Lucy
Dr Seward’s Diary
20 August – Renfield has quieted after a week of perpetual violence only quelled with repeated orgasms provided by me. Then one night he said, “Now I can wait.” He is now violent in the day and calm during the night.
23 August – Renfield escaped again. I sent word for attendants to follow and we found him with his head again pressed against the old bathroom door. When he saw me he became furious but then he suddenly grew calm as a bat flapped past.
Lucy Wetenra’s Diary
24 August – Last night I dreamed I was at Whitby. Mother is unwell. There was a flapping at my window last night but I still managed to fall asleep after masturbating with a candle deep within me, filling my pussy until I contracted around it and let my eyes close with it sliding from me. More bad dreams and I find myself never needing to pee these days. My face is pale and my bladder pains me. I shall cheer up when Anthea comes.
Letter from Anthea to Dr Seward
31 August
My dear June,
Lucy is ill and I know not the cause. I ask that you see her tomorrow after coming for lunch which will not arise her suspicions as to your attendance. Do not fail. I must attend my father who is also ill. Please inform me of your findings.
Letter from Dr Seward to Anthea
2 September
My dear lady,
In my opinion this is no malady I know of. She is woefully ill and all I could think of to do was provide her with restorative semen. To this affect I called my assistant to her and told him to undress. Lucy looked flushed when she saw the size of his organ but she was able to rise enough to admit him into her mouth, sucking and licking him as if her very life depended on it. She brought him to an orgasm in under a minute which impressed me no end as I watched him spurt cum into her mouth and onto her face which she licked hungrily down.
Afterwards she sank again into a malaise and informed me she had not urinated for many days. This is not something I have encountered before but I shall endeavour to make her pee and to that effect have forced her to drink countless vessels of fluid of all kinds but to no avail.
I have written to my old friend and master, Professor Van wetting of Amsterdam, an expert in this field as you know. I asked him to come at once.
Yours,
June
Letter from Abraham Van wetting to Dr Seward
2 September
My good friend,
I am coming to you. Have her near at hand so I can see her tomorrow. Till then goodbye my friend.
Van wetting
Letter from Dr Seward to Anthea Holmwood
3 September
My dear Ant,
Van wetting has come and come and gone. He came to see Lucy and examined her in detail. He suggested she may be revived by a threesome and as such did strip himself from his clothes and advised me to do the same. I stripped myself and had to help Lucy to undress as she is weaker than ever. He let the two of us lap at his cock which stiffened mightily under the caress of two tongues. Lucy seemed to strengthen during this and soon was riding his cock whilst I sat upon his face and enjoyed the sensation of his tongue up inside me. I watched Lucy bounce up and down on him with some of her old energy, holding her breasts in her hands as she leaned over and began to kiss me. I could not hold in my orgasm and it escaped me at the same time as a torrent of pee which almost choked poor Van wetting. He thrust faster upwards and I saw his cock twitch as he spurted cum into her pussy.
Afterwards he bade me leave them alone and I espied through the window him making the most intimate medical examination of her body, using a magnifying glass to closely observe her pussy and urethra whilst imploring her to attempt peeing but to no avail.
When I returned to them he told me he must away home and think. He would say nothing more and left shortly afterwards.
Dr Seward’s Diary
4 September – Renfield became so violent at noon that it took all my efforts to let his cock enter me in the pacifying way I had learned to carry out. I let him fuck my bottom today thinking it would perhaps calm him further. As he stretched my anus with his hard shaft I found myself overcome with heat and desire, orgasming thrice before he reached his own climax and filled my arse with hot spunk.
Later on he apologised for his anger and begged to be allowed to return to his own room so he is there again. “All over,” he said as he stared out of the window. “No hope for me unless I do it myself.”
Midnight – I returned from seeing dear Lucy to find him yelling at the setting sun. The man fascinates me.
Telegram Seward to Van wetting
4 September – Patient greatly improved.
Telegram Seward to Van wetting
6 September – Terrible change for the worse. Come at once.
Chapter 4
Dr Seward’s Diary
Van wetting came again with his case of effects, offering to stay for some considerable time. Lucy was ghastly pale, the red gone from her lips. Her breathing was painful to see or hear. Van wetting took me aside and said. “She will die of lack of fluid. We must provide her with some immediately.”
We went into her room and Van wetting took a collection of dildos from his medical bag. He handed one to me and took one for himself and together we approached Lucy who moaned quietly in distress. I took instruction from me, bringing her to a wetness that seemed to drip from her pussy by kissing her neck and teasing her nipples. I pressed the dildo to her pussy and let it slide into her as Van wetting called Anthea in to join us. He told her to piss in the patient’s mouth and she climbed above the bed and lifted her dress, squatting over Lucy’s face and letting golden fluid leak from her. It fell into Lucy’s mouth whilst we kept her moaning by fucking her pussy and arse with the dildos. As we did so Van wetting noticed a touch of red lipstick on Lucy’s thigh and he gave a sharp intake of breath but said nothing.
After Anthea had finished peeing into Lucy Van wetting and put his cock to her mouth and she brought him to orgasm in minutes. Van wetting climaxed onto her face and watched her lap at the thick fluid, drinking it down as if it were ambrosia itself.
Anthea was sent away and Lucy slept, her breathing stronger. “What do you make of that lipstick?” I asked.
“I must away and find books I need. Remain here and do not let her leave your sight. Watch her all night.”
8 September – I sat up all night with Lucy. Her spirits were good but she was afraid to sleep. I watched her until long after sunrise as she dozed. I fear I may have fallen into slumber myself at one point.
Lucy Wetenra’s Diary
9 September – I feel so happy. Somehow Anthea feels close to me. I am glad Dr Seward watches over me.
Dr Seward’s Diary
10 September – Van wetting returned and together we entered Lucy’s bedroom. She lay more white and wan than ever, even her lips were white. Van wetting looked furious. “We must get more fluid in her.”
He removed his clothes and stood by her face, frantically masturbating as she let her mouth fall open. Soon a spurt of cum escaped his cock and she swallowed eagerly without opening her eyes. He made me piss into her open mouth which I did so with all possible haste, watching her gulp down my pee as I found myself too worried for her to become at all aroused by the sight. Van wetting sent me home to rest afterwards.
11 September – Van wetting gave Lucy a wreath of garlic to hand round her neck and would broach no protest. He took toilet roll and wiped garlic all over the sashes of the windows before latching them securely. He did the same with the door and the fireplace.
He bade Lucy to rest and took me with him to his coach, noting the worry in my eyes and planting a kiss on my lips. I found myself becoming wet as his tongue entered my mouth and he stroked my body as the driver took us to my home. As we approached he lifted his cock free from his trousers and slid it into me, letting me ride him to an orgasm which assuaged my fears for at least a little while before kissing me goodnight whilst fucking me so hard I hit my head on the top of the coach. He came in me with a grunt and then I climbed down from the coach to a final kiss.
17 September – I was engaged in my study in the asylum when Renfield burst in and aimed for me. He tore my dress from me, scaring me so much a little pee leaked from me to the floor. Before he could attack further attendants arrived and found him lapping at me pee as it lay upon the floor. “Pee is the life!” he repeated over and over.
18 September – I drove to see Lucy but every window and door was fastened and locked. Van wetting arrived whilst I in vain sought ingress and he took out a surgical saw and together we attacked the iron bars over the kitchen window. Once they were cut through we climbed in and found nobody present. We ran to Lucy’s room and found her in a dead faint upon her bed, her mother dead beside her. Van wetting carried her over his shoulder and placed her in the first bath he could find, peeing straight into her mouth and imploring me to do the same. As I squatted over her face and spread my pussy lips apart to let urine trickle from me into her throat. She stirred a little and my heart soared.
“What is taking the piss we keep providing?” I asked.
Van wetting looked across at me. “That is the question my dear Seward.”
Letter from Mina to Lucy
17 September
My dearest Lucy,
I have my wife back. We are in Exeter with Mr Hawkins. Jennifer is putting flesh on her bones. But when are you to be married?
Yours,
Mina
Letter from Mina to Lucy
18 September
My dearest Lucy,
Mr Hawkins has died. Jennifer is to be chief mourner. Forgive me for troubling you.
Yours,
Mina
Dr Seward’s Diary
20 September - Lucy is dead. I took Anthea away from the body when Van wetting discovered it and she sobbed in a way that brought me to tears.
I returned to find Van wetting standing over her. “Peace at last,” I said to him.
“Not so. This is only the beginning,” he replied. I asked what he meant but he only answered, “We can do nothing yet. Wait and pee.”
Mina Harker’s Journal
22 September – I took Jennifer to the zoo in London. We sat watching the animals when Jennifer seemed to notice something and clutched my arm far too tightly. He was staring at a tall woman who was observing a pretty girl. She had big white teeth and very red lips.
“It is the woman herself,” Jennifer said. “It is the Countess but she has grown young. If only I knew.”
Later I received a sad telegram from Van wetting telling me Lucy had died, to be buried on the same day as her mother. Oh what a wealth of sorrow in so few words.
The Westminster Gazette 25 September
Hampstead has undergone a series of events which have been given the name The wetting Woman. During the past few days people have been seen to go missing only to return home soaked in urine and unable to say anything other than the wetting woman did it to them. The only thing each has in common is a smear of red lipstick was found upon each of their thighs.
Letter from Van wetting to Mina Harker
25 September – Thank you for allowing me to read your wife’s diary. Strange and terrible are the contents but it is all true. I also note the events in Hampstead recently which I believe to be connected. If my theory is correct I believe there is a figure who moved from contact with your wife to Whitby to London and is now responsible, gaining continual life from the urine of her victims. I visited the crypt of Lucy Wetenra and found her coffin empty. I believe she may have been corrupted by the one I seek and is even now beginning her journey to imbibe of the urine of her victims to sustain her unholy life. I theorised what would defeat her and when I observed her return to her coffin in the early morning I ate as much garlic as I could find before once more entering the crypt. I pulled open the lid to her bed and pissed garlic smelling urine upon her body whereupon she began to smoke and hiss evil imprecations towards me before the urine soaked into her skin and the life of the undead was over and she came to as if she had been healthy all her life. I took her home and she rests there under the care of Sister Agatha of Budapest whom I implored to travel purely for this purpose to make use of her piss therapy with my garlic addition to her armoury. I am hopeful Lucy will yet make a full recovery. She remembers nothing of her time in the crypt which is probably a blessing. In addition Dr Seward has informed me of a patient of his who intrigues me and I intend to make use of this man. I will inform you how I progress.
Yours
Van wetting
Mina Harker’s Journal
30 September – Van wetting met with me and Dr Seward and others to discuss our course of action in his asylum office. He told us of his belief in wet vampires who derive sustenance from the piss of their victims. The only way to deal with them is by pouring garlic infused urine upon them and the best time is during the day when their power is at its weakest. We agreed to seek out this Wetula who resided perhaps still in the house Jennifer had provided for her beside the asylum as Renfield has hinted is the case with his insane actions.
Dr Seward’s Journal
30 September – After the meeting adjourned we contrived to allow Renfield to escape once more. He travelled in moments to the abandoned bathroom in the grounds of the old house and this time the door swung open. As it did so I stepped forward from my hiding place and wedged a slip of wood in the jamb so the door would not close fully.
We waited, Mina, Jennifer, Van wetting and I until the mutterings of Renfield faded away in the distance. Whilst we stood in silence, we each undressed ourselves, now wearing nothing but garlic wreathes around our necks, Jennifer holding an object in her hand that I could not identify. At last we slipped into the bathroom and looked around us in the darkness. At the far end we heard the hissing sound of urinating and edging forwards we saw Wetula in the end stall which was lit by candles and beautiful to observe. She was laid upon her back with her mouth open and Renfield was wetting directly onto her face. At the sight of her visage Jennifer let out a howl of rage and strode forwards before we could stop her. Renfield turned to run but stumbled over Wetula’s legs and fell to the floor, banging his head upon the wall and slumping into unconsciousness.
Wetula opened her mouth and revealed her long white teeth as her eyes flashed evil towards us, seeming to be only too aware of the danger she was in.
“You think you can ever defeat me?” she snarled, making to run for the door. She bowled into us but the sight of the garlic around each of our necks made her fall back until she was pressed against the wall of the toilet stall, holding her hand before her eyes as if the bulbs might blind her.
“Your reign of terror is over,” Van wetting said, “and now we shall rain down upon you.”
“No!” Wetula cried as Van wetting pulled on garlic infused medical gloves.
The Countess was pushed onto her back and her clothes torn from her as she fought to free herself, the air filling with the strong smell of garlic. Once she was naked we all found ourselves staring at her beautiful and flawless naked body, her high breasts with large rounded pink nipples, her taut stomach, the v of her pussy with not a hair in sight as Mina pulled one leg to a side and Jennifer the other. I squatted over Wetula’s screaming face and pulled apart the lips of my pussy, taunting her with one droplet at a time of pee, shaking them onto her face as she snarled and moaned in what could be mistaken for pain but was surely arousal.
I pushed down on my bladder with one hand and then a gushing waterfall of pee fell onto Wetula’s face, smearing her lipstick as she tried to wipe it from her skin before it injured her. Steam rose from her face as I peed until I could produce no more. I stood aside and Mina swapped with me, wetting onto Wetula’s clit and making her moan and writhe on the floor of the stall. Mina played with her own pussy as she peed, masturbating whilst tormenting Wetula until Van wetting aimed his cock at the Countess’s hair, peeing onto her head whilst Mina continued her own emissions.
Jennifer spread her legs as she stood beside the Countess and began to pee on her with a look of delight at finally getting revenge on the evil denizen of the night before her.
Every inch of Wetula was soon coated in pee and her whole body steamed and stank of garlic as she fought to rise and escape once more. She opened her mouth to scream and Van wetting shoved his cock into it, avoiding her sharp teeth on his way to the back of her throat. I held her legs in place as Jennifer revealed the glass dildo previously hidden behind her back. She shoved it straight into Wetula’s gaping pussy and the Countess screamed all the louder but the noise faded into a deep sigh of satisfaction as Jennifer began to fuck her in earnest.
Mina reached between Wetula’s legs and found her bottom, pushing one finger and then a second into her bottom, pushing as deeply as she could manage. Van wetting thrust as hard as he could until he grunted a garlic flavoured spunk into her mouth and made her swallow every drop.
I felt a hand on my bottom and realised it was Mina, leaning round to tease my pussy as she played with Wetula’s bottom further. My own climax hit me moments later and I turned to Mina and panted my gratitude before finding her clit and teasing it into an ardour that led Mina to scream in bliss as she came.
Wetula’s whole body rose into the air as she looked up at us all in sheer panic and then she sank down again and began to shake as the earth around us seemed to quiver alongside her. She let out a torrent of piss that sprayed over us all as she came over and over again, one orgasm after another washing over her in a wave whilst she peed like a fountain into the air.
The bathroom echoed with her noises of pleasure before at last she fell still, her eyes closing and looking for all the world as if she were dead. At last she blinked and began to breathe, the colour returning to her cheeks. She blinked again as if seeing the world for the first time, looking around at the four of us but not recognising who we were.
“Where am I?” she said, sitting up in a daze. “Why are you all naked? Oh my, why am I in a state of undress also? And why can I taste garlic in my mouth?”
Van wetting did his best to explain in simple terms that she had been ill for a long time but was now going to get better because of some unique treatment she had undergone. Wetula nodded in response, letting him help her to her feet and then we walked her slowly outside, none of us caring to dress, the heat of our indulgence keeping us warm as we walked to the asylum and into my office. Here I sat Wetula on a couch where she slumped back and closed her eyes, asleep within moments.
“What happens now?” Mina asked, looking across at Van wetting.
“She should be as well as Lucy from now on. The insanity of the last weeks is over.”
“And Renfield?”
“I believe his madness will itself ebb away as he awakens as if from a dream. As for myself I must return to Amsterdam to continue my work. I bid you all good night.”
It was an odd sight to see a naked man leave my office as if he were fully dressed, caring not for who saw his body exposed in such a way. After he had gone we three talked long into the night until Wetula began to stir from her slumber at last.
When she woke I allowed Mina to take her home to join that happy household, feeling certain all danger had now passed. I sent attendants to retrieve their clothes and then they did away in a coach, leaving me alone. I shall check in on them tomorrow but for now I feel I will sleep the sleep of the dead for I am exhausted by recent events. I am happy for something whispers in my mind that from this day forth, all will be well once more and from here on wetting in the mouths of others will only be for pleasure and never as a method to artificially sustain life of a wet vampire. The End |
A/N: This story contains urolagnia, which I wasn't clear on with the rules. If it's against the rules of the site, I apologize most sincerely.
Now, why did I have this idea? My fiance and I were discussing another fic of mine, lassitude, when I had said something along the lines of, "If he wants someone, he just takes them. I bet he's fucked his secretary." After that, I couldn't get the idea out of my head, and I started to think of various scenarios. This was the result I ended up writing, though no fucking occurs.
It had been a busy day for Adrian Veidt, and busy days always meant meetings practically stacked on top of one another. He always left gaps in between each meeting on his schedule just in case time run over, and they almost always did. It seemed as if everyone wanted a piece of him, and once they had that piece, they wanted to hold onto it for as long as they could.
He didn't mind that; it just meant that business was going well for him and that it would continue to improve. The real problem arose when the meetings went over so much that they ran into his breaks. Of course, he would never cut into a meeting or arrive late for any reason within his control, but that often meant forgoing a few things.
The foremost of these were the needs of his bladder. There was always water for him and whoever he was meeting with, which meant that he always stayed properly hydrated but also meant that, eventually, he would need to piss. That eventually had occurred hours ago, and the need had gown to an incessant throbbing that he could barely disguise.
His responses to the man sitting across the desk from him had become short as he struggled any strain from appearing in his voice. He had a fist clenched tightly under his desk and, when the other man seemed distracted, he would press into his lap for as long as he could. Occasionally, he would catch himself tapping his foot or jiggling his legs. He needed a bathroom terribly, and he had three more meetings lined up for the afternoon.
Eventually, the topic of the meeting began to wind down, probably due to his brief replies, and the man began to gather his things to leave. Adrian called for his secretary, who entered the room as he said, “Just give your information to my secretary here, and I'll be in contact with you within the week.”
Normally he would have escorted the man to the door, but he left that in her hands, knowing that, if he stood, his situation would be incredibly obvious. He knocked his knees together rapidly as soon as their backs were turned. The ache in his bladder was so intense that he hissed without meaning to, but their conversation continued as if nothing had happened.
Finally, his secretary closed the door behind the other man and turned back to face him, saying, “How did that go?”
“The same as they always do,” he replied. “How long before the next one?”
“It looks like you've got about ten minutes,” she said. “Would you like me to get you anything?” It was a simple question, but the look in her eyes as she said it was so hopelessly devoted that he wondered if she honestly believed her feelings for him were a secret.
She was not the first secretary to look at him in that way, and she was certainly not the first to make it so painfully obvious that she thought herself in love with him. They all did; after all, he was their young, attractive, successful, and single boss. It was any romance novelist's wet dream, and so they all hoped that they would be the one to steal his heart.
But, while she was not the first to feel this way, she was the first to last as long as she did without doing anything about it. In fact, the only reason he had been through so many before her was because the previous secretaries had a tendency to quit, humiliated and upset, after they inevitably took things too far and he inevitably told them that he had no interest in any sort of relationship with an employee. She had done no such thing, and though it was plain that she had feelings for him, she only channeled those feelings into doing whatever her job required.
He grimaced slightly as a pang shot through his bladder. “No, nothing,” he said, standing up from his desk. Almost immediately, he was assaulted by another pang, and standing had only made him realize just how terrible his need had gotten. He bent over his desk a bit and tried to regain his composure.
“What's wrong?” she asked. “Are you sick?”
“No,” he mumbled, feeling slightly ashamed that he was reduced to such a state in at all, much less in front of someone. Still, he could comfort himself with the fact that it was just her and that she would surely tell no one of what had happened. “I've just been so busy, I haven't had a chance to visit the bathroom in quite some time.” He managed to straighten up, but had his thighs squeezed together.
To her credit, she blushed immediately and glanced off to the side. “O-oh, well, you've got just enough time,” she said nervously.
Adrian took a few pained steps, trying to look as if this weren't affecting him as much as it was, but he felt a spurt of urine escape, and though it was not enough to show through on his pants, it was enough to make him realize that this situation was no longer under control. He didn't think he could walk very far without doubling over or leaking again, and the bathroom was all the way down the hall. People would see him, people would stop him to talk; there would be no hiding this once he left his office.
And there stood his secretary, staring at him with concern until she noticed him looking back, and then she would look away. For a moment, he was touched by how much she cared, even though she received nothing in return, and was grateful to her for watching without saying a word, without planning on ever saying a word to anyone about what she was witnessing.
But those feelings did not outweigh the greater feelings of panic and frustration. If he didn't walk down that hallway, he was going to lose control in his office, and he could not proceed with meetings in such a state. But if he left his office, everyone would see him bursting for a piss, he could not be assured that everyone would be as tight-lipped as his secretary.
“I don't know what I'm going to do,” he confided aloud. He gave a small chuckle, managing to keep a calm facade, even as his own body began to betray him.
“Wh-what do you mean?” she asked, her face going absolutely red as she stared at the floor.
“This is really a lot worse than I thought,” he replied, still sounding so casual, even with his voice so strained. “I'm not going to be able to make it down the hallway without tipping anyone off, but I can't just stand here and do nothing about it.” He cringed, another leak escaping, and he swore under his breath.
“I'm sure you can make it, it's a short walk,” she said, her concerned eyes betraying her encouraging smile. She was almost as unsettled by all of this as he was, though he wasn't sure if that was just from the personal nature of the subject or if it had to do with her devotion to him.
Whatever it may be, it didn't matter to him right then; his calm was slipping as he forced himself to face reality. There was absolutely no way out of this. He was backed into a corner and, for all his genius, he could not think of a way out of it.
“Short walk or not, I can't,” he snapped. “I waited too long, and now...” He trailed off, letting the remainder of his sentence hang, unspoken, in the air. They both knew what he was going to say.
His hands were shaking now, and he bounced up and down in place, aware of how pathetic he must look, but past the point of caring. He needed to piss, now, and he searched his mind for something, some alternative that hadn't occurred to him before, but his desperation took up the majority of his focus.
“Can I help you?” asked his secretary, and he glared at her.
“No, I don't think you can.” He was aware, in the back of his mind, that she was only trying to be helpful and that getting angry at her was a waste, but he was so frustrated with the situation as a whole that it was hard not to take it out on her.
“I could...I could...” She blushed again, not managing to meet his eye. “I mean, if you really needed me to, I could...”
“What?” he asked.
“Nothing, nothing!” she squeaked, her blush darkening. “It's a stupid idea, it's weird, you wouldn't-”
“I'm willing to try anything,” he interrupted. “Please, just tell me what it is, I'm...desperate.”
“What about...me?” she asked.
“What about you? What does any of this have to do with you?”
She dropped to her knees in front of him, staring up at him with those same steadfast, dedicated eyes. “Use me,” she said. “Like...my mouth.”
He might have spent more time being shocked at her offer had he not been at his breaking point, but as things stood, he was only touched, even more so than he had been before. “You would really do something like that?” he asked.
She must have mistook his question for disapproval and she started to stand. “I'm sorry, I knew that was too weird, please don't-”
“Is the door locked?” he interrupted, gesturing for her to get back into position. She complied and nodded. He cringed at another sharp pang, knowing that this was it- either he was going to do this or he was going to piss himself. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Of course!” she insisted. “I'd do anything to help you. It's my job to help you, and as long as there's something you need-”
“Very well,” he said, interrupting her once more. He could feel that he was about to lose control, and didn't have time to listen to her explain her motives. If she was that devoted, he was not in a position to question that. Instead, he unbuttoned his pants, pulled down his zipper, and freed his cock.
The young woman actually closed her eyes at this point, as if giving him some modesty, and he would have laughed had the situation not been so critical. She opened her mouth wide, and he pushed the tip just barely inside of her lips. This scenario was so strange that it seemed unreal, but that was yet another thing he did not have a chance to dwell as the pressure in his bladder reached its peak.
Adrian did not need any further urging, and let out a quiet, blissful moan as he let go into her mouth.
A feeling of euphoria came over him as he emptied his bladder, relieved beyond words to finally be able to let it all out. He filled her mouth with his warm piss, and she dutifully swallowed all that she was given. She opened her eyes at some point, and he smiled down at her in appreciation.
Eventually, after nearly two minutes, his stream slowed and then stopped. He had tried to it steady so that she would not have any trouble swallowing, but it had been hard to control it and several dribbles had overflowed. Still, the small spots on the front of her blouse and on the carpet would be much easier to hide and disguise than what could have happened. She had done a good job, and he was grateful.
“Thank you for that,” he said, reaching down to help her up. Already, she was back to blushing and looking away. “You really helped me avoid an embarrassing incident, and I appreciate that.”
“It was the least I could do,” she replied. “You needed help, and it's my job to help you, like I said.”
“Oh, but that goes far beyond the normal duties of a secretary.” He gave her a warm smile and patting her cheek. She gasped, fighting a grin at the sudden display of affection. “You've always gone the extra mile, and what you did for me today was more than I could ever imagine asking of anyone. It's very clear to me that you care, and I'm so grateful for that.”
“I do care!” she burst out, looking up at him. “I mean, you've always been so kind to me, and you're the best employer anyone could ask for. I've always thought you were amazing, and I've always cared...”
She looked ready to say something else, but he held up a hand to silence her. “I understand, and I do appreciate that. I hate to interrupt, but I'm going to need you to see if anyone is here for my next meeting.”
She nodded and hurried out of the room, looking dazed. He had noticed her breathing becoming labored, and it made him wonder if she had a more selfish reason for offering her mouth so willingly. Whatever the case, he knew that she was either going to act on her growing desire or confess her feelings, and neither of those were things he wanted to happen just yet.
She had made it so long without doing anything like that. A secretary as devoted as her was one he wanted to keep around a bit longer. |
Author's Note: This isn't the entire story. This was just supposed to be the intro, it just ended up being long enough that I could post it here already.
--------------------------
It was a nice day in Japan, though what city Papi couldn't recall. It was probably mentioned a lot, but that was a lot to remember. All that mattered to the harpy was that the sky was a perfect blue that matched her hair perfectly, very few clouds to break it up, and a very bright sun that hurt bad to look at. But the light looked really cool as it shined through Papi's slime friend, Suu, the parts of her translucent blue body not covered by the yellow raincoat dyeing the glow against the concrete walk.
The two monster girls were on their usual walk through the park, enjoying a warm day away from Kimihito's busy home, but they had to be careful. As monster girls, they weren't allowed to be out without host accompaniment...maybe. Papi didn't remember any rules against being out. All that mattered was that Papi and Suu were enjoying themselves.
However, just due to poor planning, Papi was distressed at the moment. Miia had been taking up the toilet around the time the two left the house, so Papi didn't use it even if there was the desire, and she didn't think that would be a problem. Now, she was really regretting ignoring that most basic need, because it had come back to bite her. Hard. Less than an hour later, she could already be considered “desperate”, and that was an understatement. Her scaled legs were rubbing together, her short denim shorts pressing against her panties. At least she was unable to button her shorts due to only having a claw on the end of her wings, so it wasn’t constricting her bladder. Small comforts, though.
Suu was fascinated by the way Papi was struggling. With a gelatinous form as hers, that ability to morph, she was always on the watch for actions to copy to better imitate organic girls. And right now, Papi was doing something Suu had never seen before. She wasn’t about to copy it blindly, but she was observing, to find the function.
It took a few seconds before Papi realized she was being watched, thankfully only by Suu and not the random passerby. It took a little for her to realize what was happening, but Papi did catch on. “You don’t know anything about pee, do you, Suu?” Just thinking about it was making her need feel worse, and she pressed the tips of her wings between her legs, spreading the feathers perpendicular to her chest.
Suu tilted her head in confusion, unsure what Papi was referring to. Either despite or because of her liquid composition, while she did intake and expel water to satisfy thirst and filter chemicals, she had no biological need to relieve herself. She didn't even have the anatomy to do so, no internal organs or urethra, she was nothing more than animated goo.
Right now, Papi didn't have time to explain anything. The poor girl was bursting to leak, she needed something, anything, to answer nature's call in. There was no public bathroom within immediate sight, which meant the nearest one was too far for the harpy to make, so she needed an alternative. And now, she'd take just about anything.
Her attention was first drawn to the fountain, with streams flowing out from a spire in the center, probably the worst thing a direly desperate girl could see. It had water, that was enough to make Papi consider it, but Master got mad at her last time she used that fountain. Even if he wasn't here, she wouldn't do something he was against. She needed a second option right now, her body couldn't hold out much longer, she was already wavering and whimpering under the pain.
Next in her vision were the bushes, off to the side of the walk. Not very tall or wide, they were nothing more than scattered shrubbery that were not at all suited for a potty, Papi was going to move onto another choice. Her bladder caught wind of that and wasn't having any of it, which it articulated by sending a spasm through her abdomen, threatening to release its contents if its demands were not meant. With that agony coursing through her, Papi really had no choice but to give in and do her business in the flora, which she made no hesitation in waddling towards with her wings still firmly planted on her shorts. Suu followed slowly, unsure where her friend was going.
It was a difficult journey, but Papi made it behind the plants safely. Relatively, of course, she wasn't completely dry upon reaching her destination, a stream of urine escaped into her panties every few steps, but they were small enough to ignore in sight of the greater objective. Due to her stilted walk, Suu had no problem staying close, and both were out of sight.
Papi looked around nervously for any people who could see her, which were gratefully absent. It didn't really matter, nothing was going to stop the dam from bursting, publicly or not. And she was ready to let it happen, freeing her wings while continuing to jiggle her legs to keep the flood at bay. She didn't need to worry about the button on her shorts, but there was still a zipper preventing her from just removing the denim, a zipper that needed to come down this second. Gripping the metal as best as she could with a claw, she pulled downwards with as much force as she could manage, only to be met with resistance. The zipper wasn't moving.
Papi didn't believe it at first. “W-what's going on,” she asked, a breathy tone to her voice. She gave it a few more tugs, but there was no give. “Nonononono, please come off,” she begged like her clothes would listen and comply. “I have to go tinkle so much, it needs to be now!” She pulled her zipper even more, harder and harder, giving no consideration to the strain it was putting on her bladder. Absolutely no progress was made.
It wasn't so much that the zipper was stuck, but Papi couldn't get a good grip, her avian anatomy wouldn't allow it when her wings were shaking. Maybe it could be accomplished, but she was going to need help, really soon because she had about a minute left at best. And wasn't it just her luck, she had Suu. “Suu, please, help me take my shorts off.”
Suu had her habits of going after the girls below the waist, it was something she had grown fond of. But now, Papi, her closest companion, was sincerely asking for her help. She couldn't refuse that. Besides, if she did Papi a favor, perhaps she would be repaid. She didn't say anything, but she reached out towards Papi's pants with full intentions of assisting.
Suu had forgotten that she was a slime creature, the reason she wore a rubber raincoat for clothing, because otherwise she'd just soak through the garment. That's exactly what happened, as soon as she touched the jean shorts, her fingers just passed through, the moisture turning the light blue denim much darker. Suddenly, Suu was losing hydration, and that was dangerous.
Papi ran through a gambit of thoughts and emotions in the following seconds. First was the surprise that Suu was unable to help, which was succeeded by Papi cursing herself for not realizing that before. Trailing just behind was the shock of the cold water on the bottom of her belly and top of her panties, which wasn't going to stay chilled for long. Both because of the surprise at the situation and the frigid shock on her bulging bladder, she was unable to contain her pee any longer.
Papi made a few squeaks in response, she pushed her wings back into her crotch, knocking Suu away. She bent her knees and stuck her butt out behind her, shaking it on the low chance it would help her hold it past this surge of desperation. Of course, that was never going to work, and the warm yellow liquid began further darkening her shorts as it streamed through her feathers, turning her inner thighs and scales shiny, puddling into the grass and dirt below.
Papi was frozen in place, her body not accepting what was happening, but her emotions reacted by making her cry, growing in intensity. While she looked and acted young, she was a grown-up, and grown-ups didn't wet their pants like she was. She tried her best, but despite all her efforts, she was still having an accident. And just to add insult to injury, getting her wings wet meant she would be unable to fly until they dried, which would have to wait until after she bathed to get the smell out.
Suu was watching closely, not out of pity, but hunger. As a slime, she needed to stay hydrated to stay alive, and an outdoors summer day meant she was losing water quickly, even more with some of her on Papi right now. She was already withering, it was just about survival. She needed life-giving liquid, and right in front of her was a girl covered in it, releasing more and more. A more perfect opportunity could not exist.
There was no warning, Suu’s shape transformed into something more like a blob, which slid along the ground right under Papi in just about a second, absorbing all of her puddle while also consuming the steady stream falling from above. Papi didn’t even move before Suu had finished that share and was sliding up her legs, absorbing everything coating them. Now, with sticky slime constricting both of her legs, Papi had no chance of escape.
Suu's form continued ascending until she was entirely covering Papi's shorts, taking in everything she was letting out. Suu's natural gyrations to absorb everything were massaging Papi's privates just right, making her breathing ragged. It was enough to make her temporarily forget her first shame, but now she was going to get wet with something else, because Suu was bringing her to orgasm. Even with a rapidly emptying bladder, she just couldn't stop peeing, and as long as she continued, so would Suu.
With stimulation like that, Papi couldn't last much longer. Her pee was abruptly cut off as she climaxed with a high-pitched shout, which Suu lapped up. If she kept it up, there were going to be multiple orgasms, and they couldn't remain hidden that long. Luckily, even with more urine trickling out, there wasn't enough left in her for Suu to remain latched on. Papi's bladder ran out and Suu separated once she realized, right as Papi was getting excited again.
Suu turned back into her female form and acted like nothing had just happened. She was back to normal size and smiling, but something about her looked off. Papi, meanwhile, was shuddering in place in the aftershocks, but she looked fine. Her shorts had all moisture sucked out, nothing remained on her legs, the dirt was fully dry, there was no evidence a wetting had just taken place. Papi would have been happy with that outcome, if the road to it wasn't so violating.
Still, it was better that she didn't dwell on it, just pretend it didn't happen. Silently, she put her wings to her sides and walked away, Suu following, swinging her arms. Their destination was their home now, before they were missed. Their time out would be considered nonexistent, leaving this entirely behind them. |
Author's Note: Since this story is unlike a lot of my others in that it's one story with a lot of scenes, I decided to make a new post once every scene is completed. I'm a slow writer, this means I can keep content coming. Also, the more posts I make, the faster my reputation can go up.
---------------
As soon as they got back, Papi headed straight for the bath, thankfully unoccupied at the time. Suu had certainly cleaned up her legs, but her wings were still wet and the feathers were starting to stick together. Sitting in the warm water, she was preening out the feathers that had become too dirty to properly wash, trying to purposefully forget something for once. Certainly wasn’t the first time Suu had her fun with her or any of the other girls, but it wasn’t fun any time it happened. At least things were quiet now, a rarity in this house.
She started lightly humming some sort of tune so long as she could hear it over her splashing, and when her song hit a high note, a loud scream echoed from somewhere else in the building, a shout not unlike death itself. The loud noise scared Papi, all the more reason she needed to see what the cause was. What if Master was in danger? Jumping out of the water, she ran out the door, not drying herself off or putting on any clothing.
Bolting through the house, her talons scratching on the wood floor, she soon reached the source of the noise, because it wasn't far away. It was right outside an ajar toilet door, Lala the dullahan pressed up against the opposite wall in terror. Her chest was heaving and her black eyes were wide with fear. Papi noticed her black panties were at her ankles as well, oblivious that this was a minor clothing error compared to her own, and that there were a few tiny drops of water on the floor leading from Lala to the toilet door. She couldn't place together what, but Papi could tell something interesting happened here.
While Papi was the first to arrive due to original proximity, everyone else would not be far behind, as the loud clopping of hooves running across the floor from down the hall attested to. Centorea, or Cerea, the centaur appeared from around the corner, brandishing her sword as she looked around the room for clues to the scream. She only briefly acknowledged Papi's nudity because terrified Lala was much more prevalent. Cerea sighed and sheathed her blade. “You say you're death's messenger, Lala?”
“Do not use my name so lightly, centaur. What is inside that commode is not to be trifled with, for it assaulted a reaper.” She was avoiding looking at the toilet, she wouldn't without her scythe to feel tough.
“Is it a new girl,” Papi asked excitedly, always happy to make new friends.
“IT BETTER NOT BE!” Everyone looked around to find that shout. They knew who it was, they just needed to be on guard for when she approached. Paired with it was another shout, one just as easily identified. There was only one male in the house, after all. A long, red streak bolted through the hall, sliding to a halt to block the toilet door. It was their resident lamia, Miia, and she had her darling Kimihito wrapped in her tail, swinging him around.
“Miia, this really isn't necessary,” Kimihito yelled, his voice distorted by the rapid motion of his entire person. Miia dropped him with a squeak of embarrassment, where he rubbed his butt from the hard landing. “Now, what's going on over here?”
“Lala got scared by something in the toilet,” Papi cheerfully explained. Lala gave her a stare worthy of death, which Papi was faced the wrong way to notice.
That's what made Kimihito really notice Papi for the first time, and as such, he was suddenly very aware of her streaking. His eyes bulged out and he covered his eyes, something red dripping from his nose. Didn't take him long before he turned to face the wall, not willing to look at this any longer than he already had.
Miia didn't want him looking either, so she stuck her tail out and wrapped Papi up completely, covering all her private parts. “What do you think you're doing?! Keep your clothes on around my Darling!” Once Papi was constricted tight enough that her nudity would no longer be a distraction, Miia turned Kimihito back, wiping his upper lip with his wrist.
“Sorry,” he apologized. “What scared you, Lala?”
“Watch your tongue, human,” she threatened. “If you wish to investigate, do so with caution. The vile creature has no conscience or remorse, it shall strike with ferocity and...” Just as she was describing it, the door opened further for the culprit to emerge from hiding. Lala wasn't waiting to see, she screamed at the first sight and tried to run, but her underwear around her ankles tripped her and sent her face-down into the floor away from everyone, and her skirt was not long enough to cover what it desperately needed to. Without wasting a second, she crawled away on her knees to give herself distance before yanking her panties back up where they belonged so she could jump back to her feet and escape.
Everyone else just watched her run as the door opened fully, and Suu was the only thing that exited. Her expression was blank, she just wanted to see what the excitement was. Cerea shook her head and sighed with a hint of a grumble. “What were you doing in there, Suu?” Suu shrugged and walked away, she didn't have a reason to stay.
Miia watched her leave with jealousy in her eyes. “She's been absorbing water again. Her boobs are way bigger than usual. Of course, they don't measure up to mine,” she boasted, squeezing her breasts together with her forearms to make them appear larger. It was a bit of a futile effort when Cerea, queen of humongous tits, was standing next to her for direct comparison.
“Anyone else think Suu's looking a little more...green than usual,” Kimihito asked.
“Snakes don't see color like humans do,” Miia answered. “But she's a lot less see-through than I remember. She absorb anything weird lately?”
“She's not acting mean like she did with poison,” Papi offered. She didn't want to admit that she knew what Suu had drank, she didn't want anyone to make fun of her for wetting herself.
“I'm going to see if Lala is okay, I haven't seen her like this before.” Kimihito was a caring individual, and he was off to spread his love. The action had passed with an awkward silence filling the void, so Cerea left too. Miia followed Darling, her tail's grip on Papi loosening and releasing. The harpy, alone in the hall, remembered she still had a warm bath and rushed off to resume it. She could have slipped on the water her wet body left from her presence, but the floor was suddenly entirely dry, not that she noticed. |
Papi was happily resting in her nest, a nice soft bed with a quilt blanket that kept her warm through the night. Sunlight was beginning to stream into the window through the blinds, forcing her out of sleep against her will. She rolled over to face the other way, hoping it would cut just enough light from her vision to allow her some more slumber. Maybe it would work, but then she remembered: breakfast. The real reason to get out of bed, Master made good food so long as he was the one in charge of cooking. The other girls were ravenous, if Papi didn’t go for the first round of eating, she wouldn’t get anything. That wasn’t something she could afford to miss, so she began forcing herself out from under the covers, even if she was still groggy.
Lazily, she stood up with a yawn and slowly walked to the door, a memory trying its absolute best to be recalled. As she began pulling the door open, it struck her. Summer was hot, and her means to stay cool during the nights was removing clothing; right now all she had was a sleeveless shirt that hung just slightly below her waist and absolutely nothing else. She couldn't just go out like that (if she was aware), she needed to get dressed into day clothes. At the same speed as the rest of her movements in the morning, she walked to her piles of clothing to pick out her attire. First step was to shed everything she had already, so she carefully pinched the sides of her shirt and lifted it over her head. Her head fit through easily, it was getting her wings through the shoulder straps where the challenge lied. It took some effort, but the shirt was removed and she threw it somewhere in the room.
From the piles of clean clothes, Papi grabbed a white tank top, khaki short shorts, and a pair of slightly off-white panties. No need for a bra when her breasts were quite small. She preferred a black top to white, but she wore her black one yesterday and she had hurriedly thrown all of her clothes in the wash before anyone could see what had happened, accidentally including the top that wasn’t wet at all. She had yet to retrieve those clothes, so she just had to make do with what she had access to, taking her selections to her bed. Sitting, she picked up the panties as well as she could, bent down and slid her legs through them, being careful to not let her talons rip through them, and then did the same with her shorts. Finally, she lifted the shirt over her head and dropped through it, squeezing her wings through the large armholes. Now fully dressed, she left the room into the light of the rest of the house.
In the main rooms, Papi was drawn in by the sounds of cooking in the kitchen. “Master's such a good cook, I wonder what he's making Papi now.” Her eyes closed in happiness, she blindly wandered into the kitchen, amazingly not colliding with any furniture on the way, and opened her sights when the sounds were really close. In the process of licking her lips, she could now see the chef, and her tongue stopped dead in its tracks at the middle of her mouth. Standing in front of the stove was Miia, once again practicing what could charitably be called “food”. Suddenly, Papi wasn't feeling hungry. “Didn't Master say you weren't allowed to cook unless he was here?”
“I'm going to surprise him when he gets back, a good wife having a meal prepared for her Darling husband.”
A light clopping sound entered the room around the same time, it could only be the centaur. Cerea yawned and rubbed her eyes as she trotted in. “Where is Master, anyway?”
“He said he was going shopping, he took Mero with him,” Miia answered. “He shouldn't take long.” She pulled the pot off the stove and poured its unidentifiable contents into a bowl. “Until then, enjoy breakfast,” she happily shouted, holding the bowl out towards Papi.
Papi needed to get out, before she had to eat Miia’s food. And Suu wasn’t around to secretly feed it to. “Where is Suu, anyway?”
“She can stay hidden until everyone else has eaten,” Miia responded, a little angry. “I know you’re using her as a garbage disposal for food you don’t like. How am I supposed to improve if no one eats my food?”
Cerea wasn’t having that. “Yes, you know because you do it too. I’ve seen you. You’re not improving anyways, why does it matter if we eat?”
“Because what kind of self-respecting wife can’t cook for her husband? If I can become an amazing chef, Darling will have to marry me! I just need enough practice until I’m an expert!” Miia’s rant was interrupted by something else in the room she just noticed. “Papi, why are you bouncing like that?”
Papi didn't notice it herself, but Miia was right. Papi's right leg was rapidly quivering up and down, making her whole body vibrate. Might have been because she was still waking up, but only then did the cause hit her; she needed to pee. Somehow, she didn't notice until now, but it was bad, really bad. When was the last time she had gone? If she was remembering correctly, it hadn't been since her incident yesterday. That was over 12 hours, how could she ignore that need for so long, even when there was a chunk of time where she was sleeping? Well, what mattered now was that she was desperate, no question about it. “I gotta pee,” she shouted as her wings flew between her legs, bolting towards the bathroom. Miia and Cerea looked at each other inquisitively as Papi ran off, and they both came to the conclusion that her ineptitude in her bodily functions were excused by her immaturity, this kind of outburst wasn't out of character.
Papi ran through the house until she reached the toilet door, and a wave of relief washed over her at the thought of release, or maybe she leaked something out. Her luck couldn't be that good, however, because the door had to be closed. Not just closed, but locked too. Papi moaned at the thought of having to wait, but there was nothing she could do about it, she just took position at the left of the door to wait until the room was vacant. She was quiet, but she wasn't comfortable. Her wings still in their place, her scaly knees rubbed together rhythmically as she whimpered from the wait.
A minute passed, and the strain her bladder was putting on her was starting to make her legs weak. Unable to continue standing, Papi sat down on the floor, her knees up to her chest, legs still shaking and grinding. She couldn't even keep her eyes opened through the sharp aches, they were shut tight. If whoever was occupying the restroom didn't leave soon, Papi wouldn't make it. She could already feel the pressure on the inner walls of her bladder, trying so hard to burst free, regardless of what its owner wanted or pleaded.
Only a little more time went by before Papi hit the next phase of desperation, and she was high enough on the scale already. Before she could clench any muscles to prevent it, a few drops came loose in her panties. Her eyes widened as she took a sharp breath inwards, doing anything she could to keep the leaks at that. Nothing else was squirting out, but the dampness in her underwear was there and warm against her privates. Now absolutely dying, Papi jumped up to her feet and tried the door again. Of course, it didn't give this time, but she wasn't about to give up. One wing still on her shorts, the other began loudly knocking on the door. She wasn't saying anything, her brain wasn't up to processing words now, but she kept banging, more coming out with each swing. No response. She was getting ever closer to a full accident again, she wouldn't let that happen a second time. Both wings back where she had been putting them, she slid to the other side of the door to continue her pain in silence.
As the seconds ticked, Papi's control continued to slip away. First it was tiny leaks, which then graduated to spurts before reaching little streams at a steady rate. Wouldn't be long before it all poured out, which she attempted to combat by keeping her thighs pressed together, her feet spread apart. Right now, all she could do was shake and weep and pray the door would open soon, which was beginning to look even more hopeless. Even so, she wanted to delay the inevitable.
While Papi was suffering, a creaking sound started next to her, which her head jolted to turn towards. Like a miracle, the toilet door started opening from the inside towards Papi, when a head poked out from behind. It was Suu, staring at Papi like she was the weird one.
Papi was...surprised to see Suu. Slime girls didn't use toilets, and if she wanted hydration, she would have gone for the bath or the kitchen sink. Just like yesterday, she was in there, and they had no idea why. Much more importantly, Suu was still standing in the door frame, meaning the only path to Papi's current happiness was blocked. It was such an upsetting thought that she didn't even pay attention to Suu's growing yellow tint, which very well could have just been her body reflecting her yellow raincoat.
Suu was watching Papi too, specifically the dance she was doing. It was the same dance she did in the park yesterday, the one that meant Suu was about to get something good. But there was something else about the way she was moving, her little dance was mesmerizing to Suu. But she didn't understand it, she had never experienced any of the feelings that led a girl to do a potty dance, yet she still couldn't look away. She couldn't fathom why, but she started imitating, pulling the bottom brim of her jacket down towards her knees as she pressed her thighs together (which somehow didn't cause them to form together), and wiggled her hips, just like the harpy.
Papi didn’t understand why Suu was suddenly copying her motions, but watching someone else do the pee dance was a horrible reminder of her own condition, and suddenly she couldn’t wait even a second longer. Shoving Suu aside, she sprinted into the room and slammed the door behind her. Now, the view of the facilities were making Papi’s bladder beg to be taken care of, still clothed or not. The unstoppable leaks had begun, they were soaking through to her shorts already, she had to hurry. The toilet was right inside the door, at least, it was just clothing in her way. Amazing how the exact same thing happened to her two days in a row.
This time, however, she was determined to not let the same result come about. Standing in front of the toilet seat, her legs still pressed together at the knees, she used one wing's claw to tug at her zipper because the button was still not a problem. She was expecting it to not work just like last time, but it came down quite easily, in fact. Gravity took care of the rest as the loose shorts fell down without wings between the legs holding them up. Her body certainly took note of that and decided it was time to go already, relaxing its muscles and letting her bladder's contents loose.
“Nonono, stay in stay in stay in,” Papi shouted in her high and squeaky voice as the warm liquid streamed through her panties and down her legs, puddling on the tile floor beneath her talons. Her body was not listening to her demands, it had waited too long for this, and she needed to work around it. She needed to get her panties down, but they were already soaked and getting worse; what's the worse that could happen if she left them on?
“No time, I have to do this!” Turning around, she sat on the toilet without undressing further, and stopped fighting. Somehow, despite already losing control, willingly letting the rest go made the stream so much more violent. Papi couldn't help but vocalize her approval as her urine poured out of her, crashing into the water below with an echoing din. “Ahhhhhhh,” she sighed happily, her voice cracking in the ecstasy of relief. Knocking off her shorts so nothing was constricting her ankles, she kicked her feet in rhythm, hitting the porcelain with her heels. Of course, she wasn't pleased that she was essentially still wetting herself, the growing warmth against her privates reminding her, but it honestly wasn't that high of a priority in her mind.
That blissful ignorance couldn't last forever because she couldn't stay lost in her peeing, her capacity was only so large and reaching its end. The stream sputtered as it hit the end of her reserves, the last few drops joining their brethren. Now she could focus on her basically an accident, which still wasn't that bad in her mind, in context at least. This time her shorts didn't get too wet, nobody saw her, and she didn't have to make a journey home. Her only concern was getting her clothes washed before she was noticed, and getting that puddle off the floor.
First things first, a little personal cleaning. She stood up and slid her panties down, picking them up once they were off and tossing them into a pile with her shorts, and walked to the sink. She turned the faucet on and rinsed the feathers on the ends of her wings, the only parts of the wings that got wet. She dried them off with the hand towel hanging on a rung, right before something else came to her. “I have to wash my legs too, I can’t walk around with them like this.” Wouldn’t be as easy to clean them without a bath, but she could make do with the sink. She got the tips of her wings wet again and began wiping them down her legs, replacing one liquid with another, cleaner alternative.
It took a while, but Papi did get herself tidied up, all urine off and the plain water dried off with the hand towel. Now, it was just her clothes that needed attention. “If I wash them out, I can hang them to dry, and Master never has to deal with them!” She just needed to gather them, wash them in the sink and she'd be free. If only she could find them. “Didn't I put them down on the floor right here?” Papi was sure, but a memory as bad as hers couldn't be trusted. She checked basically everywhere in the room for the missing items, and was bending over on her knees and elbows to see what could be hiding behind the toilet, when the loud sound of running hooves got closer to her location, and the door crashed open because Papi didn't have the time to lock it.
Cerea burst in uninvited, so she was seeing full frontal Papi butt on the floor, not something she needed to bear witness to. “Where did your pants go,” she asked with a sense of disdain and disbelief, like it shouldn't have been possible to lose her clothing when she had it just minutes earlier.
“I don't know where they went! I had them when I came in, I took them off to clean myself, and when I looked back, they were gone!” She slid back out into the open part of the room and stood up to face Cerea. The view from the front of bottomless Papi was no more modest.
Miia slithered into view, leaning on Cerea's horse back, looking like she knew something. “Papi...did you have an accident?”
Papi's face broke out in a bright red blush that nicely contrasted her blue hair and wings. Obviously, that was an embarrassing thing to confess to, but the way Miia and soon Cerea were staring at her, it was boring a hole through her soul, she couldn't keep up the facade. “Y-yeah, I did. But please don't tell Master!”
Miia snapped her fingers in realization. “I was right! Suu took them, it had to have been her!”
That just didn't make any sense to Papi. Suu was a good girl, why would she steal? “But why? What would Suu want with my shorts? She already has clothes.”
Cerea took the chance to explain to Papi. She didn't trust Miia to handle such a delicate answer to someone so innocent, but now she was blushing too with the subject matter about to be breached. “Well, you see...considering the changes we've seen in her over the last day, Miia proposed that perhaps Suu...it's very possible that she's developed...she might be...”
Miia interrupted, she was not a patient snake and a lot more blunt. “Suu's got a pee fetish. She was tormenting Lala yesterday, she took your wet clothes, and she was spying on me in here this morning too. Cerea says she's been getting even greener, like she's been absorbing it all. Where does she pick these things up?”
Papi knew the answer but wouldn't respond. Admitting one accident was bad enough, how could she explain she had an even worse one yesterday? What Miia was saying made sense, Suu was always a sexual girl, and this was no more forward than her usual practices. And they had lived with Suu long enough to know, when she was in a mood like this, they needed to keep their distance. “So what do we do, then?”
“We stay away from her,” Miia explained. “At least until Darling gets home, she listens to him. Until then, do not use the toilet, don't give her the chance. Will you be able to handle that,” she asked smugly, looking at Cerea.
“I am a proud knight, as I have stated many times before.” Cerea placed a hand over her heart as a salute, which looked more like she copping a feel on herself. “I am prepared to fight for my Master's life in combat no matter the risk. Holding my bladder is nothing.”
“Good, because I don't know when Darling's coming home, he didn't take his phone. If you see Suu, keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn't try anything. I'll tell Lala, you two stay alert.” Miia slithered out to find the dullahan, Cerea and Papi going their own separate ways. Neither of them noticed the greenish blob stuck to the ceiling, watching. |
Author's Note: Hey, it's kind of like I'm writing My Little Pony stuff again.
-----------------
Cerea sat quietly in her room, her legs tucked under her horse body as she laid on the floor mat, reading a book. The traditional Japanese look of the room, her silent demeanor as she partook in a dignified pastime, it was easy to see she was formal, as a knight should be. However, while it was hidden beneath the black cloth over her horse half, she was not entirely still, her back haunches were shifting in their places, and maybe a little whimper could be heard if one listened carefully. Cerea was not comfortable.
It had been a few hours since they had agreed on the Suu plan. After it was finalized, Cerea informed Lala because Miia didn't do it like she said she would, and retreated to her room to pass the time. It wasn't her job to look after Suu, that was Papi's position, Cerea just wanted to relax if she had nothing to do. True, she could have also practiced with her weapons, but...she didn't want to tire herself out, it was important for her to save her strength.
Still, even with careful allocation of energy, Cerea was struggling. Time had passed, and that naturally meant her bladder was filling. Actually, she already felt a need before they had decided on the course of action to deal with the rogue slime hours ago, and needed to contain it past the point she would have taken care of herself under normal circumstances. Even with a larger body and training to restrain her functions, the need would eventually catch up with her, and that time was happening now. It wasn’t “urgent”, but certainly and undeniably “uncomfortable and desperate”.
“You're going to be fine, Centorea,” she convinced herself. “You've held it longer than this before, it isn't that hard.” Nevertheless, she bit her bottom lip nervously as she felt the urine slosh around inside her. “But it's not going to be easy, either.”
-----------------
It couldn't have been more than an hour since, but now Cerea was in bad shape. She had to pee so badly now she couldn't sit still, she was constantly shifting her weight from side to side, her face broken out in a bright red from the heat, caused by the stress of holding. Her book now looked more like jumbled pages of characters when she couldn't spare the energy to concentrate on anything else, anything to take her mind off her bladder.
She didn't want to admit it, but she couldn't spend any more time waiting. “I can't do this anymore, I have to do my business now.” Shakily, she stood up on all four legs, where her hind legs only stayed separated for a second before she pushed them together to provide a little relief. Her front legs, meanwhile, were trotting in place, her hooves making a light clopping sound on the floor mat. “However, I don't know how to do so.”
She needed relief. If the toilets hadn't opened yet, Cerea wouldn't make it. However, as she soon considered, that was an “if”, she wasn't entirely certain yet. “Perhaps Master has returned and disciplined Suu for her actions, and I simply had not noticed.” That's what she chose to believe because that scenario would end the best for her. Taking a few seconds to compose herself, she left her room to search for Master.
As she emerged out of her privacy, Cerea noticed the place was quiet. That was probably an indication Master wasn't home, because then everyone would be swarming around him. She wasn't giving up so easily, however. “It's possible he has simply requested silence,” she decided, though with little confidence. Wandering the halls of the house, Cerea couldn't find anyone, not even the other girls. It was the same for any room she entered, barring the other girls' bedrooms.
Now, Cerea was a little curious. With a stiffness in her walk that would have given away how much she needed to go if there was anyone to see, she opened the door to the bedroom closest to her current position, which happened to be Miia's. She didn't knock as she should have, it was not all that important to her right now. Luckily, Miia wasn't doing anything private, just reading a cookbook in a futile attempt to improve her skills. “I take it Master is still out on his errands?”
“I haven't seen Darling yet. Do you need him for something?”
“...not particularly. I merely wished to have his company.” After her earlier reassurance that her bodily functions would not pose a problem, Cerea couldn't admit how desperate was now. She was at least taking internal comfort that Miia was also quietly reading in her room, she needed the distraction just as much as Cerea did. “If you haven't seen him, I'll leave you be.” She walked out, noticing Miia start looking really uncomfortable out of the corner of her eye.
“Damn,” Cerea quietly vented once she was out of earshot. It was unbecoming for a knight, or a lady, to swear like that, but she didn't have another way to express her resentment for her predicament. All four of her legs were trotting in place again and now her tail was flicking backwards in response to the mounting pressure against her rear. Even her body was telling her to just piss already, no matter how she was clothed or standing in the hallway. “What am I supposed to do now, I really can't hold this any longer.”
Most people will find, whether fully human or not, that they begin considering some truly insane options when they're on the verge of wetting themselves. Suddenly, almost anything can be seen as a good enough toilet, so long as it got their bladder empty. This was the state of mind Cerea was currently in, everything that could possibly contain what she could put out. First thing to mind was the sink, a natural first choice for a substitute. It had a bowl, a drain, the faucet allowed it all to be washed down cleanly. It sounded perfect, but it just couldn't work for a centaur. A toilet bowl was a lot closer to the ground than a sink on a kitchen counter, and the large bottom half of a horse meant she wouldn't get that height.
Next in her mind was the potted plant Master kept in the living room. The pot was sitting on the floor and a tree seemed like a nice alternative, but that pot was not very big, about a foot in diameter and depth. Cerea could hold a lot, that thing would be overflowing before she was even close to being finished. It didn't even seem likely the dirt would absorb enough before she felt relieved enough to hold the rest in, not that she'd want to or be able to stop once this torrent got started. Maybe she could just let it run over and clean up the excess immediately afterwards, but Suu was on patrol somewhere, she'd get to it first and she'd only get worse.
“Need something else, need something else fast,” Cerea kept repeating. She had made the mistake of considering other outlets, giving the signal to the rest of her body that she was about to let loose, getting her bladder all excited and geared up to empty. It felt like she had seconds before the dam burst and a flood started. She crossed her hind legs really tight as she unintentionally thought of the huge flood that was to follow, like a fire hose spraying everywhere. “So much pee,” she whimpered as she pushed her back legs together further.
As she kept that image of an ocean in her mind, which was doing wonders at working against her, one last idea came up. Just thinking of water made Cerea think of Mero, their mermaid roommate who was currently out with Master. As an aquatic creature, she lived in the water, so her room contained a swimming pool. In-ground so it was at the right height, it already held so much water so what was a little more, and it already filtered so there'd be no evidence. Suu also couldn't hide in a body of water that large without dissipating, absolutely everything was in place. “I apologize for this, Mero,” Cerea called out to herself before running off to Mero's pool, as fast as she could run while staying dry.
Standing in front of the pool, Cerea legs were all moving erratically, so damn close to bursting. The flowing water from the filters was most certainly not helping, she could almost feel her bladder going lax and letting everything stream out. This was the critical moment when every factor was working against her, begging her to leak. If she gave in now, her desperation would all be for nothing. She wished she could grab herself with her hands to ease the pain, but anatomy put her hands far from where they'd need to be on her butt. It'd be so much easier to hold if she could use her hands, though, instead of having to rely on crossing her legs.
Cerea really couldn't stand to look at the pool anymore, and turned to face the wall instead, backing up just a little until a back hoof felt the drop from the fall into the pool. Bobbing up and down, she reached her arms back as best as she could and grabbed the top of the black cloth over her bottom half, so long that she needed to alternate pulling it up one hand at a time. The rear end she couldn't reach was taken care of by her tail flying as high as it could to avoid being soaked, pulling up the skirt to a certain height with it.
Her bladder was looking for any reason to believe it was time to let go, and disrobing was the perfect excuse. Just as Cerea was pulling up the cover, her hold over her urine dropped and it started flowing out, a light stream at first, splattering against the inside of the fabric with her tail getting some of it too, falling on the floor right before the drop. “Ah ah ah ah,” she grunted and panted as she hastily pulled the rest up, throwing it over her back and letting her tail up to clear the path. No obstructions remaining, Cerea started peeing freely, and with force.
There's an expression, “wetting like a racehorse”, meaning a pee that's strong and fast, beyond normal expectations. As a centaur, Cerea was a prime example to prove the expression accurate. Her torrent was shooting out at least a yard behind her, powerful enough to make a crashing pour as it landed in the pool. Most of the stream was concentrated, but the sheer volume meant a lot of droplets were flying off, getting lost in the sea of piss unleashed from the end of a centaur.
Cerea looked up to the ceiling as her mouth hung open, breathing deeply with a bright blush on her face and her ears wiggling. “Ohhhhh,” she exhaled blissfully as the pressure on her bladder diminished. It no longer mattered how she was doing her business in a pool, it just felt good. Not like she had a choice anyway, it was a real emergency. She couldn't even stop now if she wanted to, her muscles were so tired.
Minutes later, even Cerea's extreme capacity reached its end, and the distance the stream covered started reducing, more drops flying out scattered. She reached her butt out a little further so the final drops wouldn't get on the floor, and then her river ran dry. Giving it a few seconds to ensure there were no secret reserves, she shook her backside to get any drops off since she couldn't clean it off here, and dropped everything back into their usual places. The little bits of wetness from her initial release weren't easily seen and would dry off without consequence, so she could ignore it. “Phew...that's much better.”
Turning back to the pool, Cerea inspected the damages. It was certainly evident that a restroom visit had just taken place, given the yellow cloud in the water behind her and the foam on the surface. However, even as she was looking at it, the cloud was spreading and growing less visible by the second, and the foam was floating in the current to the filters. The pool was taking care of cleaning itself, important when it had Mero living in it, so Cerea's little mess would be gone soon.
Slightly embarrassed by what she had done, but mostly relieved that she had done something before it was too late, Cerea trotted out of the room, keeping her eyes out to be sure she was unseen. Retreating back to her room, she allowed herself to relax for the first time in hours. Somehow, she made it with an accident, a close call even with her large bladder. Considering how incredibly desperate she had gotten herself, Cerea started thinking, “how are the other girls handling?”
Edited January 4, 2016 by Captain L
(see edit history) |
Lala the dullahan sat in darkness, the lights purposefully left off and the curtain closed because she felt a lot more comfortable in the shade. She was a messenger of the underworld, or so she claimed, an aversion to brightness was to be expected. Currently, she was polishing the blade of her scythe to look as intimidating as possible as the shine reflected moonlight, if she could line it up with the moon's direction and fullness. Until then, it was strictly for agriculture, as she also claimed.
She didn't really need to do this at all, but whatever kept her distracted and busy. Cerea had visited her earlier and informed her that Suu was on a perverted streak, warning her to stay away from the toilet. Lala was not about to let her little traumatic experience from yesterday repeat itself, so she heeded the advice and planned to stay in her room until the coast was clear. However, this isolation came with a downside, and that was how badly she needed to pee now, what else would happen avoiding the restroom? Lala wouldn't dare admit it, but she had a disappointingly small bladder, and a very hard time holding her urine. That was an embarrassing point to her, she was supposed to be strong and competent, and would instead need frequent potty breaks like a child. In fact, that was one of the big reasons she was so urgent in finding her body when she first met Kimihito, so it wouldn't have an accident without a head to guide it.
As such, Lala was already struggling. Sitting on her knees with her scythe, she laid her left hand on the front of her skirt and her thighs were pressed together. Any normal situation, she'd be running for the restroom right now. Hell, even if she was outdoors, she'd be ducking behind the nearest bush. This was so much worse, she needed to pee so badly but had no means of release, it was torturous. She whimpered, just a little, in response to the mounting pressure.
“Do not give in, Lala. You're better than this, it isn't that hard to wait.” She said it, but she didn't believe it in the slightest. She felt her bladder quivering and stretching to its limits, eager to empty right now. The blue-skinned dullahan was bouncing on her knees, her private parts tingling with urge. She started looking around the room just to avoid dwelling on her pee, and that's when she saw a cup she had brought in filled with water, now empty waiting to be brought back to the kitchen.
“I guess I could,” Lala considered. It couldn't be that hard to pee in a cup, it was decently big with a pretty wide opening, she could probably make it work. “But should I?” If she filled it up, she'd have to dump it out and she sure as hell wasn't going out in the open carrying a cup of her pee, so she'd have to wait until nighttime when everyone else was asleep to dispose of it. Until then, she also didn't have a place to lay it down where it wouldn't spill, not one out of sight. If someone came in with that thing sitting on her dresser, she'd be dealing with the shame of two urine-related incidents in as many days.
Still, she needed to go, she couldn't go use the toilet, the cup was an option. “Perhaps it would be smarter to save the concerns for later, when I'm no longer so desperate.” Yeah, that sounded good. Standing up nice and slowly while keeping her hand on the front of her skirt, Lala grabbed the empty glass in her trembling left hand, and looked around to ensure she was clear from any onlookers. There wasn't really much of a threat, she was alone in her private room, but checking was still an instinctual thing when about to do something so inappropriate. It didn't cross her mind that a quick look would not be enough to spot Suu if she was present.
Presently satisfied and trembling in anticipation of relief, she took her hand off her skirt and instead reached it underneath, grabbing the white lace front band of her black panties and sliding them halfway down her thighs, far enough down that she could fit the cup between the underwear and her unmentionables. Hesitantly, she put the cup into position at a slight outward angle to keep grip, reeling back an inch as the cold glass touched her sensitive area.
That was just enough to get Lala to lose control over her bladder as urine started trickling out. The stream was incredibly weak at first, little drips coming off at every point with the main flow fluctuating in distance. Lala was nervous about doing something like this, but as she started to accept it, her pee picked up and finally started to feel good.
It was then that Lala learned why girls tended to avoid using cups or other containers of similar size, because female genitalia was not geared for accuracy. As she had relaxed, the distance between her crotch and the cup had increased, just enough to allow a rogue spurt to fly outside the glass' boundaries, landing on the thin glove holding it in place. Thin enough to feel it, Lala jumped back at feeling her own urine, dropping the glass she was using at the moment in surprise, somehow not shattering upon hitting the floor.
That meant that Lala no longer had anything to pee into, but that wasn’t enough to stop her. All of it was just flying onto the wood floor, spraying everywhere in the near vicinity with a loud splatter. Now she was desperate to get it to stop, grabbing herself with both hands to forcibly stem the flow, which unfortunately isn't likely to work on a girl that was desperate enough to use a cup. It pooled in her hands, streaming down between the fingers, the feeling soaking through her gloves.
She squeezed as much as she could manage, her legs rubbing together at the knees, rivulets running down her legs into her black thigh-high socks, the front of her white skirt being pushed into the line of fire and getting wet as well, the yellow stain very obvious, before Lala's bladder finally started to heed her. The stream didn't so much as weaken as stop abruptly, but Lala didn't dare let go. Despite all the pee now on the floor, she somehow still needed to go really bad. “How the hell can I hold this much in,” she shouted in angry disbelief.
Top priority now was finding somewhere else to finish this, because she could feel her urethra burning with the pee stuck in the pipe, and she wasn't going to last much longer. After this little accident, she was not about to use the cup again, she could see how big a mistake that was now. She needed something else, something she couldn't miss. There was nothing like that in the room, so no matter what could happen, she needed to leave and find something else. Since there was no point to bringing them back up, she slid her panties down her legs by wiggling with one hand grabbing herself tightly, and ran out.
Lala's initial plan was to dash to the toilet, the most reasonable choice, but by the time she reached the kitchen, the pain started getting sharper and more stabbing as the final wave of desperation hit. She grabbed herself with both hands again, really hard. If she didn't have gloves, her nails would probably be digging in right where she'd want it least. “Damn damn damn,” she swore as a few more leaks squirted out, bringing the severity of the situation to the forefront of her mind; if she dawdled any longer, she was going to pee.
She needed to consider the options before her, within her current line of sight. First in her vision was the potted plant Kimihito kept, large enough to catch her eye. Tempting, without a doubt, but its elevation and small diameter meant she'd have to stand above it and take care of business like that, and she had just proven she wasn't capable of that precision. Still, she whimpered at the thought of having to search further.
She looked over the kitchen counters, and saw a variety of cups and bowls that Miia had neglected to clean after preparing breakfast. Yet more containers she had no chance of using without a gigantic puddle following. “I'm gonna make such a huge mess. I can't do this anymore, I need to piss now!” Just as she was about to give in, she saw the sink. “That'll do,” she exclaimed, running towards it.
Standing in front of it, leaking more drops, Lala almost started drooling, but she couldn't ignore the inherent problems with this option. There was a portion of counter in front of the sink, sticking out far enough that the only way she'd be able to sit on the sink was to lean forward to account for aim. Not that she'd be able to sit effectively at all, because the faucet stuck out quite far with no way to rotate it, the open space not nearly enough to accommodate her rear. If she could even get onto the counter, of course, being over half her height.
“I don't have time to find something else, I have to use this!” Hopping in place, she removed her right hand and placed in on the counter with her left, her thighs rubbing together to alleviate some of the new pressure, and vaulted upwards. Lala did not have much upper body strength, hindered further by her bladder being a hog and taking most of it, so she struggled just to get her knees up, a few more drops falling, but she did get up, wiggling some to get her full legs up on the counter.
That was the final straw for Lala's bladder, stretched to its limit and exhausted, it slackened the urethra muscles and started a full stream. Feeling it rushing on its way, Lala hastily squirmed into a squatting position, maybe taking care not to hit her head on the cabinets above the sink. She wasn't fast enough, the pee started full force before she would have liked, but the error was corrected in a few seconds, and the dullahan was spraying her body's liquid contents into the sink.
“Ooh, that feels so much better,” she concluded, closing her eyes to give into the relief. True, she was squatting in front of the kitchen sink instead of a using a proper restroom, but she'd take what she could get, so long as she did it secretly. She was facing the wall, so she wouldn't see if anyone was watching, but she told herself she'd sense it. She could be alone with the sound of her violent splash against the porcelain of the sink.
It wasn't a perfect solution. Besides the total visibility to the action, just a few tiny streams weren't going down with the rest of the urine, and instead lost force and dripped down directly below her bottom. Not that it was a huge deal, she had already made a puddle there, but she'd have to take care of it as soon as she could. It could have been so much worse, but Lala got lucky. The plug wasn't covering the drain and none of the dishes were in the sink itself, so her mess was staying relatively contained.
The tingling in Lala's nethers wound down as the pee stream lost strength, increasing the leaking below her. She let out a big sigh, abruptly cut off as she heard a few splashes behind her. She suddenly turned her head, almost falling backwards from the motion, and saw no one, but the puddle beneath her was bigger than she had realized, it was going past the edge of the counter and dripping onto the floor. “I have to clean this up too? Fine,” she grumbled, shaking her butt to knock off any lingering pee because the paper towels were out of her reach.
That's when Lala realized, she didn't have much of a way to get down. She really couldn't waddle off the counter in a squat, she'd have to sit in her puddle at least a little to touch the floor again. Grumbling, she smoothed her skirt back down her legs and kicked her feet out in front of her, butt hitting the counter with a light splash, the warmth felt on her ass just seconds later. She didn't let it soak in too far, pivoting and sliding feet first back onto the floor.
Lala grabbed a nearby roll of paper towels and pulled off a liberal amount of sheets, balling them all in her fist and wiping down the puddle on the counter and whatever slid down onto the floor as the white paper was dyed a dirty yellow. Once every last drop was cleaned, she dropped the wad into the trash can specifically under a few other pieces of garbage, and turned on the sink, both to wash down anything sticking to the inside and to wash her gloves a little. Now, there was no evidence of what she had done in the kitchen, but she still had some clothing issues, which she confirmed by feeling the rear of her skirt just a little.
“If I can get it into the laundry now, no one could ever know,” she decided, running off to collect her panties in her room. She turned back soon after for more paper towels once she had remembered she left her room in a pretty bad state, unraveling an excessive amount of sheets before just taking the whole roll and leaving. Once she had left, an increasingly dirty and green slime poked out from the kitchen trash can, a bunch of soiled paper towels in the blob and a big, perverted smile on her face. |
It was really good that Miia didn't have any breakable objects in her room, because her long tail was flailing about in every single way as she laid belly down on her bed, pressing her crotch into the blankets. It felt like it had been forever since Darling left, and in the time since, the lamia's need to urinate had grown to intense levels, it was all she could do to stay sane as her bladder felt ready to pop. Whimpering, she rubbed the base of her tail under her skirt against the bed to ease the pain.
“How...how can I need to go this bad? I shouldn't even be able to hold this much!” Miia liked to project a dainty, feminine image onto herself, whatever made her more attractive to men, ignoring that she could, in reality, hold her own and hold it in. Even then, she wasn't exaggerating how full she felt, how close she was to having an accident. She pressed her hands on her skirt to help a little, biting her pillow to cope with the pain as her tail continued to swing.
She had been in isolation to focus solely on holding, it had been hours since she had any contact in Cerea, she had the foresight that she'd go through a potty emergency and would need to concentrate. She just hadn't anticipated Darling would take so long to get home and punish Suu, and that her need would become so dire.
Now, Miia was considering what she'd need to do to relieve herself. She was very against using anything other than a toilet, but she'd have to swallow her pride and do something that degrading. Honestly, struggling on her bed was making her consider just letting loose right there, was it really a big deal if she soaked her sheets? Surely they designed blankets and mattresses with kids that wet their beds in mind, there couldn't be any long-term consequences if she just leaked, right?
It sounded like a sweet deal for Miia, but as her forked tongue hung out of her mouth, reality hit her and it suddenly seemed like it would be a poor choice. “Miia, what are you thinking?!” She grabbed the sides of her pillow tightly, stretching it apart and pulling it towards her face. “But...I have to go so bad! I really don't think I can hold it!” She bit the inside of her mouth, her fangs piercing her lip just enough to really feel the pain as her tail repeatedly whacked the floor with a loud crash.
She couldn't deny it, the poor lamia was about to burst. She'd slither to the toilet as fast as she could, but there's no way Suu would let it be so easy. Miia went to pee when she woke up that morning as she usually did, but just as she finished, the rogue slime revealed herself in the bowl, terrifying Miia and sending her bolting out of the room screaming without redressing herself. An experience like that is traumatizing, Miia would not risk the toilet again until she was assured it was safe.
If Darling wasn't home yet, Miia wouldn't be able to wait long enough. “I need someplace to go...anywhere!” Against her body's wishes, she pushed upwards from the bed and used her tail's muscles to prop her up into standing. Gravity was not kind to her bladder once she got vertical as all the pressure moved to the pipes that would release it, only tempting her further. Miia obviously had no legs to press together, so she went all in on clutching her skirt, also difficult when she couldn't grab between the legs, there wasn't much surface area to hold.
Struggling, Miia slowly slinked out of her room, her upper body bobbing vertically without affecting her path. Suddenly, as she entered another room, bright light pierced her gaze and sent her reeling back hissing, even reflex wasn't enough to tear her hands away from her skirt. Her eyes adjusted, it was just the sun shining through the large windows of the living room. Which meant if the sun was moving towards the horizon to shine into the building, it was close to sunset. “How long can Darling possibly be out?” Just shopping with Mero, that shouldn't be an all-day affair. Miia would suspect cheating, if she was currently capable of wandering thought.
What caught her eye at the current moment, however, was the kitchen sink. She was tempted, almost convinced to use it and take care of everything. Lamias, to account for their tails as a lower body, have their genitalia facing outwards to the front where skin meets scale. As such, Miia had long since mastered peeing standing up, it was the only efficient way. With her muscular tail, she could raise herself high enough to aim the stream in, with the sink large enough to account for any bad aim. Basically a perfect solution, eyes practically watering at the sight, Miia leaned forward to start her slither to it.
But she didn't move. She couldn't, with the waves coursing through her body, she could no longer put forth even the effort to move to another part of the room without bursting. She started breathing heavily, her chest heaving and making her breasts bounce, almost pulling her skirt down with the force she was putting into grasping. Even the short distance to a sink seemed like a marathon to a desperate lamia.
Miia really didn't want to believe it. She shut her eyes as hard as she could and clenched her privates just as fiercely, silently crying under the stress. Little dribbles started leaking into her panties, not soaking in but just sitting against her body. Since they couldn't fit around her tail and use elastic to stay in place, lamia panties instead had light adhesive on the back side and was more a latex material, it was waterproof and it was keeping the urine where she could feel it and didn't want to.
“No more...I can't do this anymore...” Miia was ready to give in, wetting herself really couldn't be as bad as continuing to hold it, yet she continued to torture herself. She couldn't bear to have an accident, she needed to act like a big girl. Maybe not one that could make it to the toilet, but something at least kind of close would be fine.
She wasn't going to get anywhere now, shaking and weeping in the middle of the room, she needed to open her eyes to find an answer. Still, she could only manage one eye to see directly in front of her, blurry through the tears. Close enough was a tall, green stalk, the fine details hidden but still recognizable to the girl who had lived here for so long. A large potted plant that Darling kept, like a small tree with a flower stalk for a thin trunk. More importantly, it sat in a large pot of dirt that was certainly enough to absorb the contents of Miia's bladder, low so she wouldn't have to strain herself further to raise her height.
“Oh...thank you so much!” Miia had clearly been nice recently to get on karma's good side, being given such a perfect restroom substitute right in front of her when she needed it most. It was so good, in fact, that Miia was already hitching up her skirt in preparation, her bladder unwilling to hold back any longer. The small volume between her body and panties filled quickly, starting to leak from the bottom and dribble down her tail. Using her left hand to keep the front of her skirt up and out of the way, she yanked her underwear off and blindly threw it away, the warm liquid dropping out all at once mostly onto the floor. Out of the way, Miia's pee stream was unobstructed as it flew into the pot, splattering against the packed dirt before the sound morphed into liquid crashing into liquid, similar to a bath filling.
“Ohhhh, so gooooooood,” she moaned out. “This feels so much better...” She was so desperate, there was enough forward force to arc the pee into the pot without the usual manual adjustments. She looked up to the ceiling and sighed, letting nature run its course as her bladder emptied onto the plant, the soil slowly absorbing the steady and heavy flow of urine, not fast enough to prevent a buildup, but it wasn't overflowing the edges of the pot. It was also a lot of foam, not only bubbles from the splash, but the natural properties of the liquid, and there was an abundance of it.
Miia just lost herself in the feeling of the relief. She had been holding it for so long, her bladder was so full there had been a visible bulge, and her abdomen felt like it was stabbing her. But that was all in the past, she was feeling no pain now, just the tingling feeling of a powerful stream of pee exiting her urethra, leaving a sense of blissful emptiness in its place. Miia;s tongue hung out in the ecstasy, amplifying her sense of smell as it does for lamia, but she couldn't really care less now. All that mattered was the beautiful feeling of a long-awaited piss.
So lost in her little potty break, Miia didn't even notice the not too distant sound of the front door opening and closing, or the approaching footsteps and wheelchair rolling. However, she most certainly heard what followed, her Darling asking her a question. “Miia, what are you doing?”
That was the last thing she wanted to hear. Just the sound sent a chill through her, which hurt more to a cold-blooded creature, making her lose her grip for just a second, allowing her skirt to fall back into place. It fell right into the way of her stream, and while it was still powerful enough to not be affected by it, easily pushing the garment out of its way, it was getting soaked in the process and dripping to the floor and onto her tail. That wasn't enough for Miia, she needed to stop peeing now, or at least not make it so evident that's what she was doing. As a last resort, she went back to clutching herself hard in the hopes that her bladder would take the hint and stop.
Wasn't happening. It didn't matter how much relief she had gotten through, she wasn't finished. The pee didn't even slow down, it kept going full power into her hands, splattering against the skirt being pressed in and warming her palms, falling in large quantities onto her tail and streaming down, puddling on the floor beneath her. She wasn't giving up and grabbed harder in response, but it did no good. She couldn't stop no matter how much she wanted to, she couldn't even imagine wanting to curb the flow a minute ago. Her skirt was soaked, the bottom of her tail glistening, coated in urine with a pond collected beneath, the dirt in the pot darkened and moist with white foam around the rim, every piece of evidence was gathered against Miia; she had been caught inarguably using a plant as her toilet.
Even after she had run dry and all that continued to fall were drops still stuck to her scales, she couldn't turn to face Darling or Mero, how could she admit what she had just done? And just to make it worse, even after holding it so long almost exploded, she still had to deal with basically wetting herself. It didn't matter how much she “successfully” got into the pot, there was still enough on her to make a lot of other girls' full bladders blush. Miia stayed silent and let the two draw their own conclusions, frozen and mortified that Darling had to catch her disgracing herself like this. |
The living room of the Kurusu household had one of those little kiddie pools on the floor, there to be the bed/room of Suu which, along with her not needing food, made her the cheapest girl for Kimihito to house. The slime girl was currently in that pool, but not for her own pleasure. Master and Mero had returned home to a scene of Miia having an accident, and after cleaning it up and hearing the story from the other girls (Papi rushed to the bathroom as soon as he came home), he had requested a private conversation with Suu. The pool was the only piece of furniture she could sit in without ruining it, so she was waiting for him to enter.
After enough time that she had decompressed into a blob, Master came in and quietly sat on the couch. He didn't say anything, but he looked at Suu in the pool, his stare enough to get Suu to reform into her humanoid body, the young girl form she modeled after Papi. From all the time that had passed since she was last seen, her chemical composition had changed once again. Instead of her entire body being tainted by the color and consistency of the absorbed urine, she had mostly returned to normal with one orb of all the dirty substances residing at the bottom of her stomach area, filtering through her system.
An awkward silence followed, but Master spoke with a caring and questioning tone. “Suu...I've talked to the other girls. Could you please explain yourself?” There wasn't anger in his speaking, Master was a kind man who'd reserve himself until he had all the evidence.
Suu was a quiet girl. Not that she wouldn't speak, she had after a while living in the house, but there wasn't much of a reason usually. However, she was being directly addressed, and the way she was sat alone, she could tell she had done something wrong and should feel sorry. “I'm sorry, I...I...” It wasn't that she didn't know the answer, she just felt a crippling amount of shame and couldn't bring herself to respond. If she wasn't all liquid, she'd probably be crying now.
“Um...is it okay if I come in?” Both of them looked up and saw Papi in the door, not looking at any of them despite her making herself known. Master waved her over, where she sat to his left on the couch. “Actually, all this is my fault. Me and Suu went out yesterday, I had an...accident and she absorbed it all.” It would have been better if the harpy never had to admit she peed herself, but the confession was needed. Suu nodded slowly to confirm, plenty of guilt in there.
“And she went for the other girls after that, I got it. I just want to know why she did, because it doesn't sound like it was for hydration.”
“Wait...you're not mad that we went out? And that I wet myself?”
“Of course I care about you leaving, you're not supposed to do that,” he exclaimed back. “I tell you that all the time, you just never listen! The accident doesn't bother me, that can happen. Right now, I'm more concerned with Suu.” She had sort of been forgotten for the last minute, but she didn't look any more comfortable. “It's okay, Suu. This is a non-judging environment, I just want to hear what you have to say.”
Suu rubbed her left arm with her right hand, having control over her slimy composition to not merge together, nervous and unwilling to speak. “I...I was thirsty yesterday when Papi...did that, but I liked it. I wanted more, so I took it from everyone else. That was wrong, right?”
Master sighed, that certain kind of sigh that gave away that this would be a tough answer. He leaned over like he wanted to hug her, even if he was too far away and he'd get pulled into her body if he embraced her and would drown. “That's kind of a difficult answer. There's nothing wrong with having a fetish or practicing it, you just need to understand limits. Spying on the other girls is not okay, without them knowing and telling you it's alright. I know you don't consider consent very frequently, but if you have it, you're not wrong.”
That was the piercing point for Suu. The thought had never occurred to her, asking the other girls for their permission before getting sexual with them. Of course, she understood the concept of permission, she tried to butter up Kii for food, but she saw sexual favors as the bargaining chip to other good things. Why wouldn't the girls want Suu going slimy slimy on them, it felt good for her, surely it was good for them too. That level of introspection was making her uncomfortable, she started shifting and squirming in place.
Papi may have been a naive and ignorant girl, but she had that certain lean towards others, she was at her most mature when she was the mother hen. She stood up from the couch and talon trotted across the floor to the pool, kneeling down and giving a strong hug to her slime friend, paying no mind that her wings were being absorbed into her body. “I don't mind, Suu! I was just surprised before, but it's okay if you tell me!”
That show of compassion and acceptance touched Suu, and amidst her shame, she smiled. It didn't last long, though, as she started frowning and looked down at her kneeling legs, her head shaking and her tentacle hair waving from the motion. This didn't escape the nearby harpy, whose look of happiness also changed, hers to concern. “Are you okay, Suu?”
Suu looked back up to Papi, with a kind of sadness and discomfort in her green eyes. “I really need to filter all this out now.” Her hands found their way to where the crotch would be on a normal girl, and rubbed the area.
This was something that surprised both Papi and Master, she had never expressed a need to filter out whatever was in her system before, she just did it whenever it was convenient. Maybe she always needed to and just did it before it became a problem, she never kept anything forever after all. That was good, considering how her behavior changed depending on what chemicals she had in her, it was better she reverted to her normal personality. That gave Master an idea, actually. “Maybe absorbing urine makes her need to release it. It even gave her a makeshift bladder this time.”
“N-no, that's not...” Suu started shaking again as her internal orb quivered, pulsating and descending. Her eyes widened in panic as she jumped to her feet. “Sorry, I really need to do this now!” She dashed out of the room as fast as her gelatinous legs would let her, because running was still faster than morphing into another shape, even if it agitated her stored pee.
Somehow, even with a homogeneous body composition, Suu could somehow still feel the pee welling up, ready to release. Slimes did not evolve to absorb foreign chemicals, so while they could, it was hazardous to keep them inside their bodies for an extended period of time. To protect itself, the body will eject anything that could cause harm before it can cause lasting damage, and Suu had waited too long, all the urine she absorbed was coming out.
She just had to make it a little farther, the bathroom was the nearest room with a water receptacle, and she'd be clear. She could see the door, just the tiniest more distance without having an accident. One more step until relief, when something slid in front of her. Suu looked up and saw Miia's face, her eyes glowing red and her mouth smiling wide, fangs exposed and forked tongue hanging out. “So now you need to use the bathroom, Suu?”
Suu could tell where this was going, and she wouldn't deny she probably deserved it. Spending the day preventing the girls from using the bathroom, not being allowed in the one time she really needed it was karmic retribution. But it was inconvenient to her, so she was going to try to appeal to Miia's better nature. “I'm sorry for what I did, Miia! Can I please go?!”
The lamia cracked her knuckles. “You think we're just going to let you off the hook after all the torment you've put us through?” Cerea and Lala approached from opposite sides, looking just as evil as Miia and each brandishing a weapon; Cerea with her sword and Lala her scythe. “You must suffer just as we have.”
Suu could pass by them in a number of ways, their weapons also couldn't hurt her, there was almost no obstacle presented. However, it would take energy to escape, which she couldn't afford to spend. All she could do was continue to dance in place, her legs jiggling as she bent over and shook her butt, her bladder moving downwards, just touching the surface of her crotch. Time had run out for the slime.
Being different from other girls, when Suu started peeing herself, it was quite a bit different. There was no urethra, so the urine didn't exit her body in a little stream, it left in every possible spot between her legs in one giant flood, the dirty yellow liquid streaming through her fingers and down her legs into a rapidly growing puddle beneath her feet, the sound of splashing and splattering growing in volume. Suu's mouth opened in relief as the pain began to vanish from her body.
The three girls that had cornered her, however, could only watch as she had an accident. At least it was going by quickly, her entire bladder's contents emptying at once. The smell, however, was not so kind, with the combined scents of three girls' piss along with the trash she had hidden in made for one unpleasant aroma that sent the three covering their noses and running. At least Suu couldn't inhale it, so she could continue enjoying the feeling.
It only lasted a few seconds, so Suu was done before it had even fully sunk in how good it felt to go. She could feel the difference though, she was back to her normal clean self and feeling fresh. She turned her head to face down the hall she came, just as Master walked in looking for her. Immediately, all the shame she felt earlier was back, as her Master had to see her disgrace herself. “I-I'm sorry about this, I just...”
He held up his hand to stop her. “Don't worry about it, I'll clean it up. You can run off and do whatever, you've already had an interesting day.” It took a few seconds before she processed that, how the day's events would end so suddenly, but she smiled and skipped away as she was told. All in all, things had gone well for her today.
Alone, Kimihito looked at the puddle Suu had made, not incredibly big but a reasonable size, and walked back to the kitchen closet to grab a mop and bucket. As he reached into storage, he heard a rapid succession of clicks against the floor, and when he pulled out and closed the door, he was met with Rachnera, her spider legs coming to a halt before bumping into him, her multiple eyes half-closed and her hair unkempt. “Morning,” she loudly yawned. “Or evening, whatever. Did I miss anything today?” |
Polt was a kobold of many, many talents, but a weakness of hers became apparent as she sat alone in the manager's office of Sports Club Kobold: she was restless. There was nothing to do, and she was getting fidgety just waiting around. She had organized her desk three times in the last hour, taken multiple jogs around the gym grounds, and the only thing keeping her from taking a nap in her chair was a limitless amount of energy.
"There's nothing worse than the wait before a new business opens," Polt whined, tapping her claws on the wooden desk. While Sports Club Kobold would be the first interspecies exercise parlor in Japan, thanks to the recent Interspecies Exhange Bill, that distinction required a lot of fine-tuning on her end to make it practical and inclusive. She was lucky to have a group of monster girls willing to be volunteers, running trials that revealed a lot of the facility's shortcomings, but all that meant that orders for furnishing and remodeling had been placed and construction was proceeding, leaving Polt with nothing to do herself.
Today's project was a complete shutdown of the building's plumbing to remodel the restrooms after one of the volunteers, an ogre named Tionishia, had discovered that the toilets were not suitable for use by some larger species. And, because the human contractors weren't so accustomed to installing monster-sized commodes, it was taking much longer than anticipated to complete.
A fact that Polt was all too aware of right now, as she shifted her legs one on top of the other, squeezing them together as she squirmed in her seat and elicited a small squeal inside her mouth. It was shortly after noon, and because of her forty-kilometer morning jog after leaving home at the crack of dawn, the construction crew had arrived at Sports Club Kobold before her and began their work. Combined with the ample quantity of water consumed during that run, the office was currently home to a very desperate kobold. "Mmph..."
It wasn't just the lack of access to the restrooms that was annoying, but all the alternatives also made unavailable really irritating Polt. While both gender bathrooms were being worked on, despite the vast majority of monster species being female, other drainage solutions were still present and unoccupied. If she needed to go after a long workout, there was no shame in relieving herself in the shower, making a pit stop there seemed like a good solution to her current conundrum. If only the water to the entire building hadn't been shut off, robbing her of the ability to wash away the evidence.
She swiveled her chair to face the large windows decorating one of the walls of her office, looking outside for some distraction. While the crowds of people walking by, and the birds flying, did grab her attention, there was something else out there more pressing, diverting her gaze to its allure: the trees. Polt was also no stranger to doing her business outdoors, in case her time management was off and she found herself desperate while on walkies. She could practically picture it, tugging her shorts down and squatting behind a thick grove of bushes, letting a healthy stream of urine gush from her privates. That fire hydrant on the street corner was looking pretty tempting...
"...not a good idea." Polt was about as far from being a shy girl as one could get, but undressing in front of hundreds of strangers to pee was asking a lot of her. She'd need to be seriously ready to burst to consider that. "Still..." While the flora in view was out of the question, it had given the kobold an idea, and her ears perked up as hope returned. "I'm going stir-crazy in this office, a good walk is exactly what I need! It's only a couple kilometers to the park, it'll be a great way to get the blood flowing and find a place to go!" A bright smile broke out across her muzzle, showing off her white canines as she jumped up to her paws, tail vigorously wagging behind her.
Luckily for her, she didn't need to change clothes to be properly dressed for a run. She was still dressed in her usual exercise attire, consisting of a black tank top, loose white shorts, with sneakers and a sweatband to top it off. Now that she had set her mind to it, nothing could stop her as she ran out the office, right out the gym onto the street, ready to run and more than ready to pee.
---------------
"Whew...phew...made good time." Over ten kilometers in fifteen minutes, not a personal best for Polt, but impressive nonetheless. Being active and getting sweaty was a kobold's favorite pastime, she could practically feel her worries wash away in the perspiration running through her fur. And her destination was also comforting, a dog park close enough to her home and work to make it a frequent stop on her runs. Clean, colorful, lots of people and their pets, it was relaxing.
Well, not relaxing enough to ignore the discomfort that no amount of exertion could distract from, a different bodily fluid wanting to escape as she continued to push herself. Her desperation had grown no easier in the travel, and it was really, really bad now. Her bladder was throbbing beneath her sculpted stomach, pulsating and working its hardest to push the volume of warm urine it carried out, only held back by Polt's willpower. Now that she had come to a stop, and no one was paying any special attention to her, she pressed both large paws against the crotch of her shorts with moderate force, feeling the firm paw pads on her palms press the loose, airy fabric and panties beneath right where they needed to press.
As good as it felt to hold, it was all too clear that it wouldn't satisfy for long. She really needed a toilet, immediately if possible. Thankfully, that was covered as well, because she had reasons other than fond feelings in choosing the park as her end goal. She passed through her frequently, ran all its paths, she knew the layout by heart, and most prominently, where the public restrooms lay. After all, they had been her salvation many times, when she would occasionally forget to use her own amidst the morning excitement. And they weren't far, either! She wasted no time bolting in their direction, pulling her paws from her crotch, so as not to draw leery eyes. Though, she wasn't as bouncy as usual, her gait much stiffer and straighter.
Well, they weren't far with her usual running speed as the benchmark. At a more rigid walking pace, it was taking significantly longer to cross the distance. Many other joggers, walkers, and dog owners passed her by as she traveled the gravel roads, the dogs usually barking at her. Somehow, maybe through animal solidarity, they could tell something was wrong. Then again, maybe they knew because every step Polt took was deliberate, one of her fangs was poking out from her mouth, biting her bottom lip, taking any chance to press against her shorts. Polt was not a subtle girl.
And her need was about to get a whole lot less subtle. The path she had absentmindedly taken went down the shore of a pond, one creeping close to the sidewalk, so close that the sound of rippling water from ducks landing in the center rang loud in a kobold's large ears. She let her guard down for just a second, and in that tiny span, her bladder had its way. "Eep!" A small smattering of pee splattered out from her urethra into her underwear, warming her crotch with its damp, dirty wash.
Snapping her thighs closed with the speed and force of a crab's pincers, squeezing the little moisture that had made its home in her underwear into a wider area, Polt managed to successfully command her bladder to heel. It was a close call, almost able to hear the urine pent up inside her pleading to drench her shorts, but she remained the master. For now.
The second surge came almost immediately afterwards, as her small, sensitive nose picked up a light scent wafting upwards, emanating from underneath her shorts, where just a little tinkle resided. She was well-hydrated, so her pee had very little odor, but her heightened senses still clearly recognized it, sending her spiraling with another desperate urge. She obviously couldn't see what was transpiring below, but the smell growing twice as strong told the whole story. Polt didn't dare separate her legs now, for fear that there would be a lot more urine gushing out should she do so.
Keeping pressure on her crotch this way was going to make walking difficult, though. So, after close to a minute had passed, Polt all the while rubbing her thighs against one another as her hips swayed, she finally felt confident enough to spread her feet and return to a slightly more natural posture. The shivering, frazzled fur, and ears on end still gave away that something was wrong with the kobold. With the way she was frantically looking around, it wasn't impossible to guess.
Luckily for her, that frenzied searching had its upsides as well. Without scanning every bit of the nearby scenery, admittedly mostly for a secluded bush, she wouldn't have seen something off in the distance, obscured by trees, benches, and light poles: the small brick shack she had laid eyes on many a time before, the one she knew contained the little monster girl's room. Her tongue popped out from between her lips as a drop of drool fell loose onto her endowed chest. It took a concerted effort to shake herself free of the haze, but she did so, and almost immediately began dashing for it, paws firmly against the front of her shorts, all in the name of holding.
With her fit kobold speed, the time elapsed between the first step and skidding to a stop was brief. That didn't mean it was easy, of course, exerting herself at such a delicate time. "Don't think about how much you leaked, don't think about how much you leaked..." She could absolutely feel the soaking in her panties grow warmer and wetter, like it could be showing through the thin fabric of her white shorts. All the more reason to keep her big paws covering the spot, no matter what strange looks it attracted.
But there it was, right in front of her eyes, the universal symbol denoting the women's restroom. All she needed to do was push, straining to remove her right paw to do so, and leaned against the door with the full weight of her body. But it didn't budge. "Wha?" Pulling back, she slammed the door again, hearing it move a fraction of a millimeter before hitting a barrier. "You're kidding me! It's locked?!" It was only in that moment of despair that she noticed the piece of paper taped just beneath the gender sign, its words clear and concise: Out of Order.
It took Polt several seconds to process the words before her, but when the meaning finally sunk in, her eyes widened, her jaw fell, and her bladder leaked. "Really?! Of all the times!" She had run all the way here, and the toilets were no more usable than the ones at the gym! In a fit of desperation, she even ran to the opposite door, the men's room door, and found the exact same warning pasted to that entrance, just as locked.
Now Polt was in a real pickle. She had spent so much of her available time before an accident just making it here, and now that this opportunity had been swept away from under her, the accident seemed inevitable. Burying her paws between her thighs like a bone in the dirt, she began bouncing on her heels, jiggling her right leg as she continued to lower herself further and further into a squat with each shake, only tempting her body even further.
"Maybe I should just go for it right here..." While that proposition did sound nice, there were still people that would see if she were to yank her shorts off here. Not the end of the world, but still something to be avoided while there was still a chance. But was there a chance? Her panties were soaked now, and a particularly powerful jet of pee when she was almost down to the ground ensured that it had to have broken through to her shorts now. It might not be visible on the waterproof fabric, regardless of the color, but she couldn't tell. The warm liquid hitting her paw pads was worrisome enough.
As hope continued to fade, one thought kept nagging at her subconscious, one image forcing its way to the forefront of her mind. This bathroom building was on the very edge of a treeline, and directly behind it was a thick grove of trees. She had never needed to consider that area before, given that it was much easier to use the real toilet immediately adjacent to those woods. However, now that these bathrooms were non-options... "Time to water some plants!" She could hardly be more accepting of the circumstances as she hopped to her feet and ran behind the structure, one or two drops snaking down her thigh from the jolt.
Because the distance was so minuscule, she ran the distance in almost no time. And if she wet her panties any further on the way, she didn't notice, she couldn't with how drenched she already was. But nothing was going to slow her down now, not when she could see the greenery, smell the chlorophyll permeating the air, hear the footsteps of the people grow ever so slightly quieter and farther away.
The pieces had all fallen into place. While she hadn't found a physical barrier to conceal herself behind, there were enough scattered obstructions to reasonably ensure she had privacy, and that was enough. Gripping the elastic waistband of her athletic shorts and underwear simultaneously with her trimmed claws, she pushed the garments straight down, exposing her kibbles and girly bits to the open air. She didn't even wait for the path from her privates to be clear before she bent her knees and squatted with her feet apart.
Purely by coincidence, the instant she wouldn't drench her clothes with the impending flood, it began. No build up, no struggle, no effort, just a mighty, gushing, fire hose of a pee. It was perfectly clear and only had a light smell to her powerful nose, but it hissed like an angry lamia, splashed like white-water rapids, and drops jumped back up onto her socks and ankles like a high-dive into a pool.
And to Polt, it was one of the most sublime experiences of her life. "Haaahahahhaaaaaaaa..." Just letting go of her bursting bladder and letting its contents drain into the dry dirt felt wonderful, as the radiating warmth on this mildly chilly day blew across her fur. The soil couldn't even handle the downpour all at once, the majority instead gathering and quickly expanding a puddle from where the stream crashed down, bubbles forming on the surface and slowly drifting outwards.
Once again, her tongue drooped out as she started breathing heavily, panting with ecstasy as her bright blue eyes shone, her ears folded back, and her tail began sweeping the ground behind her, kicking up a small cloud of dust. While it wasn't exactly her preferred method of doing business, there was just something about peeing outside that felt...liberating, natural, correct. She was no slouch when it came to urine capacity, so the volume spouting out was quite respectable for her size. The puddle, quickly turning into an ocean, continued to spread until it was completely surrounding the soles of her sneakers.
Of course, at that power, it was only a matter of time before her stream diminished. It was no short time, but it came to pass while Polt was still enjoying it, a solid minute later. It first went down to what one would normally expect from an average potty break, managed to stay at that level for a surprisingly long time, and then dropped off to nothing but dribbles and spurts, a stage that didn't last long before the kobold had peed it all out. "Mmmmmm...good..."
She took a second, or two, or two dozen, to recover from the bliss after it had ended, far more out of breath than any workout could cause. "Phew...haven't needed to go like that in a long time! Felt good to go, but it's nice to be done!" However, the sound of one stray drop falling directly beneath her reminded that she wasn't totally finished yet. "Oh, should find something to wipe with." She looked and looked, as far as her head could turn, but she had picked a barren piece of land to plop down and go for it, a place where no leaves could be found. "Looks like I might need a change of underwear when I get back. Oh wait, I don't think I have any. Then I guess it'll be pantyless for today!" The sky blue undergarment was pretty wet, now that she could see them, wearing those the rest of the day wouldn't be comfy, especially not with the frequent movement she was known for. Hoping to spare the poor cloth any further damage, she shook her butt and dislodged any stray drips stubbornly clinging on.
Suddenly, the sound of rustling dirt caught Polt's attention, as her ears perked up and located the direction of the noise. Whatever it was, she wasn't alone, and she didn't need to wait long to see who was approaching: another girl, slender with light hair, but with large wings on her back and green scaled arms, walking pretty stiff and uncomfortable, biting her bottom lip and looking around carefully. Polt recognized her. One of her side jobs was rehabilitation of monster delinquents, where she had amassed a small group, and this girl was one of the members. "Hey there, Draco!" She jumped up to greet the dragonewt, excited to talk and catch up.
Draco jumped high in surprise, hearing the kobold's loud voice. Clearly, Polt had gotten the upper hand, or paw, on detecting the other. "P-Polt?!" She jolted to look over at the trainer, and violently reacted once again, staggering back with her arms covering her eyes. "W-what are you doing?!"
Polt tilted her head in confusion. "What's wrong, Draco?" While the dragonewt wasn't usually happy to see her, the reaction was never this extreme.
"You need to pull your pants back up!" |
I got an idea for paper Mario, but I'm gonna do it later. For now, I'm doing my second omorashi on pokemon. It will play in a kind of "pokemon society" thing (like pokemon mystery dungeon) but in a more civilized way, with actual buildings and such. anyways, enough yapping, let's go.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Fennekin's POV:
BEEP BEEP BEEP
There went the alarm, as I hit the snooze button with my paw, I woke up and shook my head, trying to fully wake up. I lived in my friend Snivy's apartment. it was small, but comfortable. I walked up to the dresser and picked out my usual outfit: a white tank and some earrings. I felt a small twitch in my lower abdomen, but decided to ignore it. After that I went out of my room to the kitchen. The apartment itself was very open, 1 room for the beds, 1 room for the bathroom, and the kitchen was wide open next to the living room. When I walked in I saw Snivy on his laptop.
Snivy: well if your gonna be like that, you can get out ya jerk! oh, hi Fenny.
Snivy's POV:
I shut off my laptop and went to talk to Fennekin. I was wearing my normal apparel, a blue bowler's shirt and a golden watch.
Snivy: so what's up?
Fennekin: not much. not yet at least, hehe.
Fennekin was my closest friend. We were always getting into trouble from Gengar, my high school rival, and school bully. Anyways, we just had breakfast, and Fennekin was squirming a bit. I had to ask.
Snivy: you alright?
Fennekin: yeah, I just kinda need to pee.
Snivy: why don't you just go now?
Fennekin: i'm sure I can hold it
She gave me a smile, and I trusted her. After breakfast we went outside to get some work done.
Fennekin's POV:
When we came outside, we saw everything was pretty normal. The shops were opening, which meant we could get our work done. At 8 AM we were pretty much done and decided to check the place out. Then we saw something that made Snivy swallow a swear word. It was Gengar.
Gengar: well well well, if it isn't captain moron and his untasteful princess.
Snivy: leave us alone Gengar, we don't need you today.
Gengar: heh, just as ignorant as I remember. You know the rules, gimme your cash!
Snivy: I don't have any cash, I left my wallet at home!
Gengar must have seen my fidgeting and figured out I was slowly filling up from breakfast.
Gengar: tell ya what, how about we make a bet. we'll see how long your little friend can stay dry. If she pees herself before tonight, we get your watch. up?
Snivy: DOWN, Gengar I don't want anything to do with Fennekin.
He was about to walk away before Gengar stopped him.
Gengar: WAIT! if you win, i'll do whatever you want!
Snivy was thinking for a bit. it was a good deal, and he didn't want me in complete emberassment, but I interrupted.
Fennekin: let me do it.
Snivy: what!?
Fennekin: it'll be fine! i'm an adult! I can hold it!
After a few minutes we started the bet.
Gengar: alright, Fennekin has to drink this water, and hold it until tonight. If she pees in any way possible, including leaking, you fail.
Snivy: well, here we go.
Snivy's POV:
In the end Fennekin must have drank about 10 bottles of water. One of then might have had diuretic medicine in it, but the cops checked an Gengar didn't have anything he could cheat us with.
Fennekin: GAH! Alright, that's 10 bottles.
Gengar: you feel like going yet?
Fennekin: NO! Of course not! I can hold it.
I could tell Gengar was planning on winning since I failed at all his little tricks. although she was very strong nobody can hold on forever. After an hour she was getting desperate.
Fennekin's POV:
It wasn't long before I started having to change my pose to keep holding it in. At about 3:00 I had to keep my hind legs crossed to keep from leaking.
Snivy: you ok?
Fennekin: y-yes, i'm fine.
At 5:00 I had to stop every now and then when my bladder throbbed to keep from leaking. Not the best moment of my life.
Snivy: we can just give up if you want.
Fennekin: no! I can do this!
at 6:00 I had to shove a paw into my crotch to keep from leaking. I stayed like that until 9:00 which is when the bet was over.
Gengar: you actually made it!? B- but how!?
Snivy: stronger then she looks, Gengar. and we win the bet.
Before we would decide what to do with Gengar we went back to the apartment to empty my bladder's contents.
Snivy's POV:
It took about 20 minutes go get to my apartment and get inside.
Snivy: alright, go ahead.
Fennekin: I- I can't...
Snivy: what do you mean you can't- oh, crap...
Fennekin started tearing up. Her bladder was unstoppably throbbing and she couldn't move at all.
Snivy: hold on, i'm gonna get something.
I went into the bedroom and searched through my dresser. I then pulled out an emergency mat I stole from the neighbours. I came back and positioned it under Fennekin.
Snivy: you know what to do now.
Fennekin's POV:
After Snivy left I uncrossed my legs and removed my paw, then released. I must have peed for about 5 whole minutes before it stopped. At that time almost the whole thing was soaked. After that, Snivy came back and threw it out.
Snivy: wow, a really strong pup, huh.
Fennekin: yeah, best piss of my life. that was kinda weird to say...
Snivy: hehe, yeah. Now let's go take care of that retard.
After that we went and took care of Gengar.
THE END
btw I might post alternate endings, and possibly what they did to Gengar if anyone is interested. ok bye! |
I've been working on this for who knows how long. But I love it and hopefully you will too ^^
Where are you?
Mario struggled to regain his conscience. Whatever knocked him out that time hit him hard. He felt cold on the outside,yet hollow and fuzzy on the inside."What happened..." he slurred,to nobody in particular. Moaning,he lifted his head and tried to lift his arms-only to find them bound to his body with rope-no,it wasn't rope,he thought.Whatever this was was too soft and smooth to be rope he looked at it and found it to be...Plastic wrap? He wasn't really sure.
He squirmed and struggled to get his arms free,but the plastic wrap restricted his movements so much that he couldn't move.His legs were bare,and Mario was wearing only his shirt and--Something wasn't right.His lower body felt papery and scratchy. Whoever kidnapped him somehow removed his jeans and underwear and replaced it with--Oh heck no.It can't be. He looked down and-there it was-a thick,cushy diaper,complete with a moon and star print.
Every drop of blood in Mario's body immediately rushed to his face as he made this discovery. This can't be happening! His kidnapper had him tied up and padded for some reason. Fighting back an intense urge to find this sicko and tear him to shreds,he nearly threw himself around trying to escape,thrashing wildly to get his arms free.But no such luck. Helpless and tired out,he sunk to the floor,hopeless.
Suddenly a bony,pale figure entered the room. Mario's mood instantly reverted from hopeless depression to uncontrollable rage as he faced his kidnapper. He-or it-was a shocking pale,with relatively thin blonde patches of hair here and there. His dull,grey eyes were wideset,giving off a "psycho" appearance. His clothes were ripped and barely there. "Hey there,little guy..." he cooed in a rocky,stale voice.
"Get me out of here!" Mario demanded angrily,lurching forward at this wisp of a human. But that only worsened the situation he was in.
"Aww,baby is cranky," the man teased,patting Mario's diaper.It was extra thick,Mario noticed. "But don't worry,daddy will make you a happy baby.Daddy loves his little boys."
Mario really hated this guy.First knocking him out,somehow,then kidnapping him,then tying him up and diapering him against his consent.
The man's smile changed from teasingly endearing to malicious. "Nah,who am I kidding-I have your brother locked up somewhere you can't find him." Just hearing those words filled Mario with rage. He had Luigi locked up somewhere,desperate and helpless,. He's probably chained to the wall,slouched over and sobbing hopelessly... Suddenly the man got closer to Mario's face than comfortable. "But don't worry about him-he's under heavy hypnotization."
Heavy hypnotization... Mario's thoughts became muddled at this statement.Does that mean...
"Right now,he thinks he's just a baby." The man let out a sinister laugh. "You should have seen him earlier-little guy was playing with his toes before you woke up.How adorable."
That was the last straw. Mario lunged out at him,only to fall flat on his chest. The man laughed at his subtle attempt. "Aw,baby doesn't like his holder? You're probably hungry," he crooned as he held out a bottle to Mario.
Just the sight of the bottle made Mario's mouth water.He hadn't eaten in a while,and he was famished. He leaned closer to the bottle,tempted by hunger.To heck with dignity,he was starving! Mario bit at the plastic that was restraining his arms,trying to get himself out of the plastic's grasp.In a minute he was suckling happily,his arms and upper body free.
"There we go,"the man teased. "I want my baby to be happy."
Mario didn't pay any attention to him. He was full and happy,and started to feel sleepy. He yawned and rubbed one eye as the man said something else,but he didn't hear him.
"Oh,I forgot--there's something in the milk that'll screw up your thinking processes,so you'll be a baby in no time.Unless you're immune to it somehow-which i doubt you are."
The man's laughter was all Mario remembered as he drifted off to sleep.
--
Mario awoke to a strange rumbling feeling.How long was he asleep? He assumed he was out for a day because pale morning light was filtering through the window and various cracks in the walls.Remembering that his arms were free,he stood up and stretched--only to desperately grab his stomach area. He hadn't been to the bathroom in a while.
He was confused and desperate.How was he going to be able to stand up without flooding himself? Grabbing his heavily padded lower area,Mario forced himself into a standing position and slid up the wall. That worked. Still pressing his lower body,Mario awkwardly waddled down the hallways to wherever that strange man was. Sure enough,he found him,opening a pack of diapers and storing them for later use.
"Is baby awake?" the man teased,pretending not to notice Mario's desperation.
"W-Where's the bathroom,"Mario stuttered nervously,his face a bright red.
The man gave a sinister,teasing smile. "Does baby need to go potty?" he hissed."Look down.You're wearing one." With that,he gave another malicious laugh and left.
You're wearing one...Mario glanced down at his thick diaper.What if...
No. Mario quickly pushed the thought from his mind. Just...no. He was definitely not going to wet himself like a baby. But he knew he couldn't hold it that long,and eventually it was going to happen. He shrugged and decided to go find a bathroom himself. But after 12 minutes of desperate searching,there weren't any. Mario sighed,hopeless and let himself slide down the wall,to the cold,hard floor. There are no bathrooms in this prison of a place.
Suddenly,he gasped. He couldn't hold it in anymore. Mario watched in horror as he lost control,a violent torrent of urine flowing out of him as his diaper's front darkened in color and became warmer and more wet. His cheeks turned a deep red as all of it just flowed out of him with ease. He sighed heavily,giving into his relief as the discomfort went away.He felt better,much better.
As the star print on the diaper faded into nothing,Mario looked to see how much he wet himself-which was pretty bad,indeed considering how long he'd been holding it.
His diaper became soggy and yellow-tinted,and there was nothing where the icon used to be. He sighed,somewhat embarrassed.Lucky thing it didn't leak. He listlessly started down the hallway to try and find Luigi,when suddenly...
There was a low,rumbling feeling.Mario knew what was going to happen,and he didn't try to resist this time.Squatting,he groaned loudly as he pushed,forcing out smelly,mushy poop. He felt embarassed as the first log slid out of him and into his diaper. Just gently pressing his stomach caused another one to plop out. Then another one. It all went through noiselessly-except for the last one,which gave off a resounding fart,much to his embarassment. He continued pushing for about a while. When he was done he sighed in relief,even though messing his diaper also forced out more urine.
Now what? He couldn't just sit here with a wet and messy diaper. Ovbiously he needed a change-and just in time,too,because the man was strolling down the hallway with a bottle. "Hello there,my little baby boy."
Mario just stared at him,red-faced.
"Does baby need a new nappy?" the man crooned.
Mario nodded.
"Aww...Come on,daddy will change you." He took Mario's hand and led him down a narrow,freezing hallway. The floor became increasingly colder with every step,and Mario was barefoot,so he was shivering by the time they got to the changing table. He was glad to be off of the cold,hard floor-untill he was lifted up onto the table,which was colder.
Mario's teeth were chattering as the man untaped his soiled diaper. The cold air hitting his exposed body made him shiver intensely. "Is baby cold?" the man asked.
Mario shook his head,even though he was freezing. The cold,wet baby wipes touching his exposed skin sent chills through him,along with that inevitable feeling of having to sneeze. "Ah..."
"I think poor baby is starting to catch a chill," the man crooned in his rough voice as he lifted Mario's legs and placed a fresh,clean diaper under them. "Don't worry,I'm almost done." Just as he taped on the last fastener was when Mario snapped forward. "Ah-p'tsch!!"
The explosion felt and sounded like he was blowing a raspberry,and most of the moisture got forced out of Mario's mouth. But enough was forced through his nose to make him feel stuffy. Mario sniffed wetly,trying to clear his blocked airways. "Ahh...I feel bedder..." he sighed.
"Aww,does baby feel sniffly?" the man cooed.He pulled out a nose suctioner,only for Mario to jerk back. "No! I cad blow by dose byself." He reached for a nearby tissue box and blew his nose loudly,just as he said.
As the man lifted Mario off of the changing table and onto the cold floor,Mario felt something different as his bare feet touched the ground-sleepiness. He yawned loudly and rubbed his eyes with his free hand as the man led him down the hallway. They were going pretty slowly,and before long Mario was stumbling over himself in blind drowsiness and nearly dozed off while standing twice. "Is baby sleepy?" the man asked,noticing Mario. He nodded just before yawning again. "I'm c-cold..." he mumbled drowsily,his voice catching on "cold".
The man lifted Mario up and into his arms and started back towards the changing room,where he slid some fuzzy socks and gloves onto his hands and feet. They were warm and comfortable,which only made Mario sleepier. "I-I'm sleepy..." Mario barely finished his sentence before he yawned again,not bothering to cover his mouth or anything. He decided to take a quick nap as the man strapped him into a high chair,but Mario instantly snapped awake when the man offered him a bottle.
"N-No bottle..! I wanna go to sleep..." Mario protested.He felt more babyish the more the man fed him. But he was too tired to think about it as the man nudged the bottle tip into Mario's mouth,and soon the bottle was half empty before Mario realized that he was hungry. Soon,the bottle was empty, and Mario was full,warm,and very,very drowsy. "C-Can I go to sleep now..?" Mario yawned.
"Sure you can," the man replied. This time,he carried Mario to a different room-one which had a television,lots of toys,and a huge bed that could fit two people and still have enough room. Mario tried hard not to doze off in this stranger's arms,but he was always so warm,and...
He couldn't help it. As the man lowered him onto the bed and pulled the soft,warm blankets over him, Mario felt himself slowly drift off. All he could remember was the man cradling another figure-possibly Luigi- and his own voice,yawning loudly.
Hmm...Escaping can wait.He felt too comfortable.
He wondered what was happening back in the Mushroom Kingdom right now... |
Subsets and Splits
No saved queries yet
Save your SQL queries to embed, download, and access them later. Queries will appear here once saved.